Category Archives: Fiction & Poetry

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

A Henchman’s Dream

black coffee on the table,
clean cold steel-chiselled Glock

loaded and placed in the bed-drawer.
The sharp wire that smells of the skins

and flesh it has strangulated. A black pair
of gumboots, a black overcoat, a black void

of past. A distant daughter who loves strawberries,
cats with abhorrence for your existence.

Cadillac, a pair to tan gloves, a love for silence,
love for the sight of eyes turning red, pleading

A packet of cigarettes, a bottle of Miller’s
An emptiness that spreads, a death that patiently lives.

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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

The Desert of Dreams

I swirl beneath the red leaves.
The song of my loneliness
Is the song of an earth,
abandoned by the sea.

I dream of a hearing a cacophony
near a dark sea, used to whispers
of silence. Fear is a death wish, disguised;
and not a ominous enemy.

I close my eyes
and the world stands still.
I wait for an another dream of ocean,
while standing in the desert of dreams,
where I killed, a thousand dreams
without shedding a tear.

– Shashank Bhardwaj

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

Believe

The next time,
I come down on you,
don’t just spread your legs
and caress my hair,
But make me hear your wetness
through the whispering,
make me see the desire through
your eyes,
make me believe,
that the way your nipples go erect,
or your skin burns with desire is not just our love anymore,
It is now an art.

– Shashank Bhardwaj

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

Untitled Dreams

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It is like soaking your feet
in an ocean’s wave
embracing the temporary belonging
of the cold water, tingling your toes.

You wish today, it rains now,
so you can forget about the waves and lie down
to dissolve in the sand grain by grain.

It should end the voices for some time.
Just a few raindrops now, A sound of a stream
slithering your skin , turning into a mute spectator of touch.

There is no need for caskets or pyres.
You are now in the womb of earth,
It’s the beginning of an end,
an end to all the beginnings.

You shall be everywhere:
in the crashes of waves,
in the sound of the rain,
in the howling of the winds,
and in the stars
that went astray while you were searching for me.

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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

Sobriety

Subvert this pleasant poetic dominion
for its rivers follow an enchanting metric of curves,
held together by the invisible lips of its inhabitants.
I am just a brain-dead corpse, with a past unerased,
I like to be washed away on unknown shores,
to begin again.
Love,
is that what you sell?
well I don’t buy it.
Especially on the days, I am sober.

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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

Think

To stop this yearning,
as it overflows,
I hold my moans,
in a room full of people.
It’s a meeting
people are bored,
and your tongue is unmoved
for I hold my moans.
Beneath the desk,
you keep swallowing,
quenching your thirst
licking at the tips
even the end of balls.
I feel your breasts
caressing it,
flowing with it.
The outpouring should be swallowed
unless and until
you can think of something else
that might be possible,
while you lay below my desk,
half-undressed
and totally wet.

© Shashank Bhardwaj.

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