Category Archives: creative-writing

beauty, creative-writing, fiction and poetry, Life, Love, Poems, Poetry

The Exalted Pursuits

To define an exit,
is to summon a purpose,
I defined snow, without touching it.
It has never left me since.

In the dreams,
under the sky robbed of stars,
in this utter disturbance of existence.
I wished you never painted me as a mosaic,
as well as I do.

My hands coloring with hues of autumn, winter
and unkissed summer,
because to fail you shall be the end of my potrait.
the symmetry in love is astounding.

Thousand touches on those brown eyes still unfelt
shall yield their numbness:
an art before departure,
a history before invasion.
a cause without a purpose.

This winter ends today
the glass panes conjure a colorful silence :
yellow, a touch of comfort,
when it travels back,
this premonition of forgetfulness
shall shine on you.

Lay these eyelids on purpose, today, at least
What is to be lost? Than a fickle dream
and city made of failed purposes
with us as the lone survivors,
building cities as we forget,
what is like to be loved,
without words.

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creative-writing, Fiction & Poetry, Life, Poems, Poetry

Convalescence

An unsettling deciphers
a state of silence :
When every mirror sells illusion,
How can you trust a pair of dreamy eyes?

A stoic whimper,
A mist that smells like the sun,
A kiss that compels of it’s origin,
Carry all of them till the day of reckoning.

You never know, when you shall be healed,
A rebirth is just a meaningless smile away.
Isn’t it?

– Shashank Bhardwaj

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

Touch

you are most beautiful
when you sleep–
when the coffee-toned notes of your skin
brew, a silent language

while your perfect lips are too tired to doubt my eyes
now, the dark mist of your breath
trickles down my neck
I wait,
I stare at you
unwaveringly.

outside there is a trail of rain,
and the wind
in the willow cage
whispers

as if it dares to tell
the moon and
all the listening night
that this silverlight should not
touch you, in front of me.

SB

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

Think

As the day passes by,
I think about you less and less.

But your thought stays lingering
in my mind,
There is something about you
like the air just before the rain.

Somewhere in the back of my head,
your playful chuckle escapes to my heart.
A lightning brews in my eyes instantly.

that lets everyone around me know,
I finally thought of you again.

– SB

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

Veil

The hair is veiled
With an abysmal darkness in your eyes,
But your smile is the light of those pink lips,
You spell an aura of resplendence,
Of silence breathing in chaos.
From the fair collarbone and sculpted neck,
The curves below rests and tempt every living soul with some youthfulness left in their hearts with customary pair of functioning eyes.
The bosoms shaped tempting, while the
picture of loneliness burns in brightsm
Do not move when I observe you
and consume some chaos.
I need to observe more
Till my eyes rust
in this rain of calmness.

SB

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creative-writing, Poems, Poetry

The Girl with Ouija Board

Dark sinister whisperings
rouse my soul up,
‘Every Tongue has a demon
buried within its veins, for
it gives birth to thirst,
lust and blood.’

She told me before sleeping.
Archaic hymns, butchered lemons
drowned in vinegar, disappeared behind
a mist of lavender smelling candles,
apexed at pentagram made of saffron.

I feel her curves turn cold,
the lips turn ominously black,
‘Eyes are windows to this world,
darkness is the passage to all other’
she keeps murmuring,holding my hand
till it is not she anymore.

I could sense it the way my hands are touched,
the way she removes her clothes then
and the way she kisses.
She never told her of her fetishes
and now I can’t even ask.
Ever.

– SB

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