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Harshath Vidheya Poem
Life's a One Way, Uphill.
Every Wrinkle on your Face
Marks a Step of Maturity.
You go Up not Looking
At the Peak but Dreaming
Of Sliding Down, Trying to
Look Younger than You Are.
Copyright © Harshath Vidheya | Year Posted 2017
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Harshath Vidheya Poem
There's a Train
Going to Peace Station.
Christians, Buddhists,
Hindus, Atheists,
Each occupied a Compartment,
But never Bothered one another,
Just like the Two Rails of the Track
That Travel Together but Never Meet.
Everyone's Ticket is to Peace,
They traveled in Communities and
Their Compartment Number
Never really mattered.
Then came budding Islam,
Who wanted their own Engine, Though
They are Destined to the Same Station.
They made an Exact Replica of the Train,
Their 'Fight' for Peace overshadowed
Their Destination and they Launched
Their Train on the Same Tracks,
But in the Opposite Direction.
Compartments filled with Innocent Followers,
but Engines Piloted by Terrorists
And Religious Leaders.
They only Focused on Increasing
The Number of Compartments
To gain Strength and Accelerated
As Fast as they Can.
But One Thing They Failed to Realize is,
No matter how Long the Train is,
On Collision, Whole Train Derails,
Killing Innocent Passengers, on Both Trains.
Copyright © Harshath Vidheya | Year Posted 2017
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Harshath Vidheya Poem
Cold Winter Night,
Mind's Shivering with Thoughts, but
Ink's Frozen.
Copyright © Harshath Vidheya | Year Posted 2017
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Harshath Vidheya Poem
Sun Writes Letters
To all the Planets, but None can Read
The Ashes.
Copyright © Harshath Vidheya | Year Posted 2017
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Harshath Vidheya Poem
I’m a Skilled Aviator
Flying an Aircraft of Love.
I Lost the Flight Control,
But Survived the Crash Somehow.
I Lost my License
To Fly again.
I never knew that Memories
Can Cause such Severe Turbulence.
I keep Looking Up at the Sky
Wondering if it still Remembers Me.
I keep Staring at the Passing Clouds
They never even bother to Look down.
Sometimes, I think
I Shouldn’t have Lost Control.
But Sometimes, I think
I Shouldn’t have Survived the Crash.
Copyright © Harshath Vidheya | Year Posted 2017
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Harshath Vidheya Poem
There's an 'Idea'
Floating in the Air.
Neither Tea nor Coffee,
Neither Whiskey nor Vodka
Were able to Pull it In.
Paper looks Pale and Bored.
Pen, Bladder filled with Ink,
Is Waiting to Urinate few Words.
But the Idea is still Lingering
In the Air, Teasing me
Day and Night.
Copyright © Harshath Vidheya | Year Posted 2017
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Harshath Vidheya Poem
To Light Up the Night,
We are Burning Down
The Earth.
Copyright © Harshath Vidheya | Year Posted 2017
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Harshath Vidheya Poem
I don’t need an Oven here
My Coffee never Cools down.
I tried raisin’ a Lemon Tree
but it just Sank in the Sand.
Suppose if comes an Apocalypse
I would Survive nevertheless,
And if I go to Hell someday
I guess it Feels just like Home.
I like Rains and Oceans
but I was born in a Desert.
I dream of Swimming like a Fish
and dying in a dried up Pond.
Copyright © Harshath Vidheya | Year Posted 2017
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Harshath Vidheya Poem
Two Wine Glasses
Enjoyed a Wild Night and
Ended Up Broken.
Copyright © Harshath Vidheya | Year Posted 2017
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Harshath Vidheya Poem
Trains used to be Chain Smokers.
But we helped them Quit
By Electrifying them.
Dustbins used to be Illiterates.
We taught them to Differentiate
Organic from Plastic.
Communications used to be Lazy.
We motivated them to Run
And to be Quick and Active.
Cultures used to be very Lonely.
We trained them to Mingle
And suspend their Superstitions.
Gold used to be Dusty and Buried.
We pulled it out of Poverty
And helped it Rise and Shine.
We being a Mentor to many,
Still fail to Guide ourselves
Into a Self Disciplined Path.
Copyright © Harshath Vidheya | Year Posted 2017
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