Category Archives: Desire

beauty, clouds, creative-writing, Desire, dream, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Heart, Poems, Poetry

A Circle of Memories

Warmth is a long sedimentary pause,
sip it slowly, relish it.
My eyes have taught me the art of forgetting, 
My heart has almost perfected it.

Too much of an interlude
and the spaces around you
start spewing nostalgic visions,
sabbatical turns into the ruins,
the moment one begins to dream

I dreamt of a normality which I always fear:
A morning in July with no rain,
where my hands spread as far as the sky, but they never find you.

We should have woken up when It was still winter 
our sleeping hearts still booming with summer’s dream.
cold distant stars, falling white snow
hearts in unison, brewing warmth
eyes sipping this pause sip by sip

Time was a circle of memories 
when you were here. 
Always.

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

A Pause , for Love

This road which I travel everyday,

Feels heavy for your hands disappears
when I look for it : 

In reality
dreams
and the sensation of your smell.

A sunlight isn’t warm
when you don’t hear a laugh that wakes you up.
It is shallow,
the plants aren’t as soft as they were,
the coffee is acidic somehow.

I trace you
in meetings,
lunch
and the in the soft warmth of the dinner
How do I replace us from you.
to sweeten this all,
I decipher a picture
a picture of us.

to quantify a smile is difficult
to quantify a distance behind is impossible
I shall wait for a proper sunlight,
the perfect darkness of the night
with you,
Its the least I can do,
Its the most I am doing.

Standard
beauty, Desire, Fiction & Poetry, Imagine, Life, Writings

Love is a Mirror

It’s a transparent glass
for when I see myself
I am seeing you seeing me,
from the corners, from the glass
smiling at me without a reason

my anxious heart can’t bear this
the mercury and the reflection’s creation.
Unless I hear you
or see you, before all this
my morning disturbs itself
by your visions and voices.

This distance somehow,
has nothing to do with
memories of ours,
We humans have built computers,
without emotions and a without heart
but at the end of day
I shall seek you in mirrors,
seeking our heart, seeking ourselves

I peek in the mirror
and the shaving blade cleaves through my chin,
somehow the flower blossoms, like every morning
because I see you, smiling at me
for love is a mirror.

you are my mirror.

Standard
Books, Desire, dream, Fiction & Poetry, Heart, Life, Love, Poetry

A Cat’s Conundrum

A Sage blessed us nine lives :
I think about it and I somehow let us dissolve
in the nine clouds
each made up of ways
of us waking up together
next to our perpetual bliss.

Of me, being next to you, every-time,
dissolving, disappearing
Meghalaya, Māwsynrām
a million miles, a separation in river

I learnt to swim,
in a warm untouched river,
because I saw you,
calling me.

Do it, as if you don’t respect :
these lines of these foolish landscapes.
your heart, I shall trace.
In these sands with no heart,
In these ocean with no love,
In these air, with no warmth.

I am, devoid:
complete me.
with a voice.
as you always do.

I shall float.
like the moon,
for earth.

Standard
creative-writing, Desire, Fiction & Poetry, Life, Love, Poems, Poetry

Library

To write about you,
is to write about me,
my heart is so shared with you,
like this weather of summer
discomforting but teasing.

I wake up everyday and wait,
for your messages
despite the time difference that separates us:
This distance is a number,
I tell my dilapidated eyes.
My vocal cord disagrees counting them.

Your brown cat eyes, full of distant memories pulls me up
in our cloudy sunshine,
what else do I want, than be next to you
somehow, somewhere.

To read some books, sip some lemonade.
|not because a million other people feel the same
but because you picked me up sometime,
somehow like a rare book in a bookstore, without a pause.
I was readable somehow.
I was interesting.

I have to be a collectible,
the one you take with you,
to sleep in those cold, gloomy afternoons.


Again and again and again,}
till you forget about your library.

SB

Standard
beauty, Death, Desire, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Life, Love, Poems, Poetry, Writings

A Girl’s heart is never hers.

Call it a predicament,
Or the nature’s curse,
As soon the girl blossoms into a woman
her heart is never hers.

It belongs to the roots:
Her parents, her family,
Her unknown love, devoid of the sorrowful meetings.
A transaction she never prefers.

She sit in her balcony
For the sky teases her for sorrowful palette.
These wonders if everything, falls in her place
This heart transacted with a pulse of sorrow,
blooms into the autumn light of hope.

There is something about your face,
I wonder and wonder and never fail.
This heart somehow I feel is mine, tell me a price.
is it A knife, some blood, a meticulous sacrifice ?

Come back now, in the winter we promised.
Retrace yourself, somehow.
This heart deluded of our voices.
its our, for now. forever somehow

Make it the last sun,
the last moon,
the last meteor.
I want this time to last.
For chase me now, as you can,
As spring chases winter.
every then, somehow

SB

Standard