Category Archives: creative-writing

creative-writing, Fiction & Poetry, Poems, Poetry

Balance

There’s a motionless tree
And there is another one coming forward,
A river of trees
Hits my chest

This green surge
Is good fortune,
You are dressed in red
You are
The seal of the scorched year

The carnal firebrand
The star fruit.
In you like sun

The hour rests
Above an abyss of clarities

The height is clouded by birds
Their beaks construct the night
Their wings carry the day
Planted in the crest of light

Between firmness and vertigo
You are the only
Transparent balance

I need sometimes

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

The Russian Parable

An area collapsing
into wise beards of giants,
Dostoevsky,Bunin,Tolstoy,Chekhov

Each, a decimation and integration
an oxymoronic existence,
mix life and death,
some unbearable winters,
some poverty
and tall glass of vodki,
you invent an utopia,
that is still alive in dusts
and pages.

a dream of winter, isn’t that easy:
Siberia is dying of touch of warmth
Petersburg is selling Vodki by it’s heartbeat.
Its still just old farms and innumerable counts.

Beautiful women still detested by beauty,
Brave men still abhorred by the truth,
Death still irritated by shallowness, we create,

I brisk past Moscow,
Kremlin is still the same,
my bones ache by the walk,
Never Invade Russia in winter?
One never remembers.

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

I wrote

I once wrote for others,

chaps so full of literature,

they would puke sonnets.

Women with legs

wearing beautiful stockings :

undiscovered ballets,

But they never read.

They were so full of themselves

and full of entitlement of life.

And I wasn’t full of myself anywhere,

anytime,

It took me a year of my life

to realize that

I won’t be full of myself

anytime soon.

You fuckers reading this.

Let me know,

When I’m Done.

with my writing.

Write a Memoir,

If you can,

You heartless fucks.

Shashank Bhardwaj

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

Soliloquy’s Demise

My toes are always burdened,
the mirage of my own existence
hides with way I walk.

No, bright sun or cool breezes,
warm flames or chilling silences
can refill my chalice of purpose.

I have to keep drinking myself
till I am empty enough to flow,

There is no taste for longing,
Its just a weather my tongue never forgets.

We are all pieces of unfinished monologues,
laughing miserably with a blindfold,
remembering a perfect sleep.

– Shashank Bhardwaj

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

SB

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