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

Memory

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The Night’s palanquin sways
encumbered by the stars bathed
in jasmine water and moonlight

A breeze blows through the pond,
the ripples slowly undulate my thoughts,
A shadow of time keeps disappearing
into my garden of memories tonight.

Who are you?
Whom I do not recall,
Even with these eyes drowned in wine.
Even with a thousand dreams, every night.

Are you a sorrow, longed and forgotten?
When happiness rained all over my city
and I became an ocean that night.

Music has been a source of inspiration for my writing, always. The below song tempted me to write this. Listen when free.

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

Walking through the Mirror

It happens sometimes
between winter and the sultry summer,
my words and visions refuse to mate,
no amount of alcohol urges them
to this universal transfixion
on a piece of a patient paper

I have no choice left,
I visit the dusted mirror
in my inhospitable washroom again
the vortex of time swallows me inherently,
as I fall through the voiceless oceans
and painstaking cheap bars
that are out of beer.

I walk through the autumnal rains
where the birds have learned to hide
and the leaves refuse to be touched.
The maidens are no longer beautiful,
Houses full of Japanese crockery
and European paintings
are half submerged in filthy ponds
to be admired by filthy fishes
with filthy brains.

The kids are running and laughing
on the roads but I can’t see their faces.
The dogs no longer bark, but they have
tears of joy and my hands have forgotten to
pet these loyal creatures. Their tails don’t wag now.
They refuse to acknowledge my existence.

I see my twin somewhere.
The only one who smiles back at me.
Contented but not happy,
his eyes are his stories,
his soft hands; devoid of typing
are his unwritten poems.
I have to kill him.

Before he swims out of this vortex.
Before he swims into me.
Before he falls in love with himself.

AnatomyofaPlaneCrash

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

Anatomy

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

Lost in Translation

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My myopic eyes
in the whitewashed veins
dissolved a Solar Eclipse once,
sprinkled slowly in the transparent ponds
of vision, through a negative film of ours.

Call it now, The fate’s cruel jape.
A sky long-awaited
and devoid of sunlight
is forgotten forever.

I do remember though, the universe we created
in silence, while we lent our voices
to an air that couldn’t speak.

The negative is now a mere vicissitude of colors,
for a time that went lost in translation.

– Shashank Bhardwaj

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

Half Sleepy Memories

my pillows turns cold
the tongues go dry
an uneasiness dissolves in the air
as it realizes a possibility
where you turn into a shadow
with no face,
your laughter that does not end in
kissing me for no reasons
our cuddling sleeps together do not turn into memories that are so close to edges of realities and so deep in the pools of dream.

the shades of skies melt,
it rains,
and I am standing alone
waiting for it all to be nightmare.
waiting for you to hold me from behind
telling it will be alright soon.
Go to sleep now
and don’t forget my chocolates.