creative-writing, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Heart, Life, Love, Poems, Poetry, think

Sins of a Dreamer

I wanted to be real,
To be a rain in winters,
Whom they cannot despise,
love or forget,
to be a chaotic origin of resentment,
mysterious, magical and everything in between
and beyond.

I was a tofu once,
my liver poisoned by
daily savouring of pure alcohol of dreams,
It didn’t kill me then,
It didn’t kill me now.

Bring your hands and choke
the light within me,
Turn me into a grass spilled with fresh soaked blood,
turn me into a a galaxy of restlessness
with kisses of pause and serenity eloping madness.

I shall write all about it.
Till your eyes melt in dreams of forgetting me,
Again and again,
every night
You poor, dreamer of death.

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creative-writing, dream, Fiction & Poetry, Life, Love, Poems, poetry, Writings

Remorse

Every drift
Is a cartilage bearing
the sins of a unbearable capillary

The sentences of no remorse
comes in forms.

A wild stag robbed of its skin,
over a snow that even melts eyeballs,
tells me of a impatient mind.

Broken chateau glasses in season of fall
with no stains of warm blood over floor,
tells of wrath, that puked out of a heart dying of collapsing walls of insecurity

A man observing both, in vortex of time
Is stuck as a blob of ice feeling,
not knowing when to melt and when to burn.
A peace he cannot drink or spit
But bear with his actions.

© Shashank

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beauty, creative-writing, Death, Desire, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Life, Love, Poems, Poetry

Taste of Gold

This Dusk, with its violet lips
slithers in from the windows

It rescues my reclused face
with a knife made up of light
and cold bones:
The eyes are dissolved
in a jar of warm red blood.
to cleanse any memory
of unwanted colours.

I remember when you left, that afternoon
like a rainbow disappears in the untouched mist.
I have been filleting that image
with my nails, now worn out.

But all I get is the taste of bitter gold,
over my tongue and dreams of red autumn
in my sleep.

 

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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creative-writing, dream, Fiction & Poetry, Life, Love, Poems, poetry

Come Back, Stay

To love,
is to swallow a fear
inside the warm belly,
you never knew.

It is to remember someone
Without remembering.
It is to feel the rain without it dripping through your dry bones and scorching flesh.
You disappearing in a void I never knew.

Come back, stay.

The ice melts on my tongue
as I see your lips burn in a fire of regret,
Don’t kiss me goodbye now,
Where is the winter you promised?

Come back, stay.

I have killed a thousand butterflies in my heart,
I cannot now, not anymore
while I see you leave as a dream I never dreamt.

Come back, stay.

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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beauty, creative-writing, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Heart, Life, Poems, Poetry, Writings

Dissolving the Chaos

This wall with its cracks,
Where every crevice
is an unheard voiceless moan,
becomes an abyss of observation
for my restless eyes.

I trace its tips every night,
Its faint wreckage,
till I could
listen it being fissured
inch by inch by tips unknown
in the viscous dark.

Time melts itself slowly,
dripping all the way to my eyes,
drowning my visions, and if that was not enough

The light brews at the lips of dawn,
flooding the room with a desperate silence,
dissolving the beautiful little chaos in my life,eventually.

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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beauty, creative-writing, dream, Fiction & Poetry, Heart, Life, Love, Poems, poetry

Who?

And who do you become?
by swallowing a light deciphered
through a stained glass,
For its crystals are lattices of memory,
that have caressed your ghostly voiceless passages.
It breaks in an afternoon, you never noticed ,
The memory vaporizes
and before you know, it smells as if
someone remembers you in a time you forgot.

Do you become a ghost, savoured by unfiltered light, blinded to the earth by a touch that warms?
Is this how they mix, fear and nostalgia
to a heart that is child to its own and aloof of its lineage?

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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creative-writing, dream, Fiction & Poetry, Heart, Life, Love, Poems, poetry

A dream that never ends

My veins, my blood,
all infused with star dust
The pupils dilate slowly,
to hear the dying light
pull a voiceless symphony.
I will never forget the music
for I never hear it
When it begins everything
and keeps playing
in the back of your head.
The eyes wake up,
to find itself in a house
abandoned by sunlight.
A dusty mirror greets me,
But the person inside it
is nowhere to be found.
A shadow,
A faceless image stares into
the abyss of my eyes.
Looking for answers I guess.
It has no happiness,
no sorrow,
no grief
and no pain
pained over his face.
It just waits patiently
for me to wake up from sleep
and waits again to greet me again.
It is a never ending cycle.
Of remorse, of success,
Of everything in between.
I name him ‘Destiny’
for it tells me nothing
and just waits
For me to break the mirror
and paint my answers all over his face.

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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