beauty, Desire, dream, Fiction & Poetry, Heart, Life, Love, Poems, poetry

Song of the Earth

I lie beside the red tree,
the sky is an estuary of the cold
blue winds and warm fire poured out in sky.
The song of this earth is a song of color,
Devoured and abandoned by the wrath of sea.

A sword cleaves the belly of the sky
To pour light in my pupils, too drowned by an evening on fire.
There deserts mourns for wetness of my tongue,
its sand wobble like a flightless bird, to feel the sweat tickle my back.

I become an earth,
In a pause, they call as sleep.
The oceans wrap my hands
In a glove of salt water,
and whispers me
to write with eyes closed.
While its still time.
While it still matters.

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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

Dissolving the Chaos

This wall with its cracks,
Where every crevice
is an unheard voiceless moan,
becomes an abyss of observation
for my restless eyes.

I trace its tips every night,
Its faint wreckage,
till I could
listen it being fissured
inch by inch by tips unknown
in the viscous dark.

Time melts itself slowly,
dripping all the way to my eyes,
drowning my visions, and if that was not enough

The light brews at the lips of dawn,
flooding the room with a desperate silence,
dissolving the beautiful little chaos in my life,eventually.

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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

Who?

And who do you become?
by swallowing a light deciphered
through a stained glass,
For its crystals are lattices of memory,
that have caressed your ghostly voiceless passages.
It breaks in an afternoon, you never noticed ,
The memory vaporizes
and before you know, it smells as if
someone remembers you in a time you forgot.

Do you become a ghost, savoured by unfiltered light, blinded to the earth by a touch that warms?
Is this how they mix, fear and nostalgia
to a heart that is child to its own and aloof of its lineage?

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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

A dream that never ends

My veins, my blood,
all infused with star dust
The pupils dilate slowly,
to hear the dying light
pull a voiceless symphony.
I will never forget the music
for I never hear it
When it begins everything
and keeps playing
in the back of your head.
The eyes wake up,
to find itself in a house
abandoned by sunlight.
A dusty mirror greets me,
But the person inside it
is nowhere to be found.
A shadow,
A faceless image stares into
the abyss of my eyes.
Looking for answers I guess.
It has no happiness,
no sorrow,
no grief
and no pain
pained over his face.
It just waits patiently
for me to wake up from sleep
and waits again to greet me again.
It is a never ending cycle.
Of remorse, of success,
Of everything in between.
I name him ‘Destiny’
for it tells me nothing
and just waits
For me to break the mirror
and paint my answers all over his face.

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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

Float

Drowning-by-Alban-Grosdidier-yatzer-20

My hair kisses my nose sometimes
Its unruly in every sense, I agree.
to hold a whiff of air without its permission,
to be unhinged at the tips,
to become a dark wave of freedom
in the afternoon light.

The longest distant star from Earth is 5 billion light-years away,
I read last night.
They brought him closer to me by naming it Icarus.
Does it still dreams of kissing the sun?

The longest distance I have ever walked,
was between a beautiful never-ending dream
to an obvious ominous reality,
because you could never tell if you have arrived or not.
I should have used my legs for same,
for they could have told me to stop in between.

The hardest pain is the one you can never touch,
It just flows as a river and takes you away.
Even if you close your eyes, you will still be wet.
Even if you swim away, you will still be wet.
Even if you drown, they will find you, still wet.

So why not just put your hair down,
and float to the abyss?

© Shashank Bhardwaj

Pic Credits – Alban Grosdidier

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

Why?

How do you define complexity?
A thing that is complex in nature?

Like the blood is red in colour,
because it is red.

It doesn’t make any sense
It does make all the sense.

My breath shall leave me someday,
because it is not entirely mine

It does make me fear death.
It does not make me fear anything.

My heart yearns for someone, again and again.
Because I cannot understand the yearning.

It does make me yearn for her.
It does make me want to stop.

I don’t know why.
Why do I not know?

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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