Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Love, poetry

Elegy For the Unseen

As the hour passes, grief cumulates
into nascent debris of nothingness.
Even with all arms folded neatly
or even haphazardly to the chest,
a vulnerability pulverizes the brightness
of your existence.
A silence deafens your vision.

Death sweeps a block of your reality.
It diminishes you :
melodious suffering.
You can’t hymn this untouched air.
It is a sudden void now.
You can’t unheed this strange silence.
It is a voiceless cry now.

The timid drops of time,
sunlight through a dusted shard of glass,
the chirp of a random bird,
the bustle of familiar road,
a heart stitched with a thread
made of fine-tuned painless ambitions,
is all you have now
and this elegy, for the unseen
to be read, when it rains.

Shashank Bhardwaj


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

Shipwreck

there is a searing in my chest
as I shed this skin of
nostalgia-laced prayers

the coldest night of the year falls
as I remember when I felt cold with you –

solemn breaths of the sea
heaving against a ragged coast

Irish rain drowning the countryside
with the aching vigor of an old god

the black trees that spoke of loneliness
cliffs cloaked in the seduction of solitude

gray castle walls climbing towards the sky,
encircling us in cold medieval stone

when I was with you I felt everything
until nothing was left

you left me with piles of driftwood
hinting at the shipwreck below

like redrawing constellations
you erased me from the sky,

I discard your cruel revisions
and bury our goodbyes

– Shashank Bhardwaj

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Fiction & Poetry, Life, Love, Poems, poetry

Madness

Alone I was
I gazed at you,
your drenched silhouette…
I was dazed
by your beauty,
I could feel the warmth,
the surge of adrenaline
through the veins…
Those eyes,
they had emotions,
to be told, to be felt…

The touch slowly melted
your warm lips,
The eyes recoiled themselves
in a pause of passion.
My hands inching from the chin to
buttons, slowly falling on the ground.
I travel inside the white veil of shyness
Every touch on the cleavage
makes your breath stop,
There is no end,
But a beginning to discovery
Of madness

– Shashank

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

Oblivion

The sleep drowns us,
but not our desires.
In a gist of cold air,
we hide our warmth teasing each other.
My hands trace your bare back,
I hear your subtle moans, that
travel from the waist and chin
kissing your warm breath.
I trace every curve, every tip,
every flesh warm enough for my hands.

I cup your breasts, caress them, lick their desires stirring them to a brewed memory,
The clothes slowly shed themselves to the floor.
I feel my hands tracing my chest,
My nails piercing your navel and going way below between your legs,
We won’t stop for we are unaware,
of where would we stop,
or how to,
or simply why.

You drag me into an oblivion
of warm madness.

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

Tell me

What is it?
That draws a knife through the heart?
Is it the separation between them?
The anonymity brewing between them?
The pause of decisions?
The thousand veins that weigh down the feeble heart?
The slithering silver edges tasting of unforgotten dreams ?

You need to draw it once.
The curse of repetition
begins with an imperfect try.
Be brave enough,
Not for the blood,
Not for the teared arteries,
Not for the sun that never sets on
the red river for forgiveness.

But for the silence
That follows.

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beauty, Desire, Fiction & Poetry, Life, Love, Poems, Poetry

An Echo

Sound and Light aren’t different entirely,
nobody shall ever get used to distance.
I wait for your sound, without touching your face,
you become an echo, the reverberation: simply unbearing

I devour an apple, graciously,
of the orchards blooming softly,
extinguished they shall be,
for the valley of snow, bows to no heart.
our pulses prisoned to thoughts.

In a mountain somewhere where cold spares no one,
It’s all dew and despair,
the hands who pick these apples,
have read no verse for equality
it’s a serpent without colour, that teases
our thoughts to an unfulfilling macabre.

how soon we have evolved to non-existence,
of the dream of the fellow
on the cost of furlough of subsidiary resilience.

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Fiction & Poetry, Life, Poems, poetry

One Love Poem

I feel, I am out of love poems,
they have trespassed my diary as if,
someone blamed the toes of humanity
for it’s biased existence.

This earth, when it traces my toes.
finds a flood of remembrance.
the souls it walked with,
still brewing and adamant.
the nectar : my heart is now a mirror
the statis shall last it’s demise.
We are the last two birds,

Tell me, how to forgive a feather
for betrayal of flight.

To extinguish a love: A Manual.
Many people tried to write it,
in the rains of acceptance.
Ruins from Nostalgia to Acceptance,
Still hear the echoes,
of failure and despair.

There was no love poem
There was us.
It was just words.
The light was still as black,
as the day we slept together,
hoping for a dawn.
despite all the odds.
never knowing why.

  • Shashank Bhardwaj
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