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.

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.

beauty, creative-writing, dream, Fiction & Poetry, Life, Love

Longing

This heart, dosed on Chopin and Bach
Traces your voice, a subtle echo even , somehow,
What is silence to a room full of devoted hearts
waiting to bloom,

I know : ones without an unforgivable autumn
will wait and wait
my love, I seek a way out
to you and your summer.

In the end, the tress
Drizzle and disappear,
There is no night in this summer
someone spilled the sky’s heart red.

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.

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

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

Yesterday

Yesterday I thought of you
And the yesterday before
It seems as if my yesterdays
Are full of nothing more.
It is not only yesterdays
of which you’ve entered in

For tomorrow is soon to come
Where more thoughts of you begin
to never end, dissolve or disappear.
This is my beautiful paradox.

My prison without keys
My evening without the sun
My heart without memory
For you are always there.

beauty, creative-writing, dream, Fiction & Poetry, Love, Poems, Poetry, Writings

Time

I tried talking but somehow couldn’t
I waited but it was not worthwhile.
How can I make you a moment,
and disappear forever

You stay and exist as a glass,
beautiful and untouchable ,
Even In my house of touches.

I am not the winter that dies,
Not the summer that is unbearable,
I am the moon,
I work on the tides.

Shall we dive once?
As you promised.
I need you in waves,
To drift wherever you want.

Just once again.

Writings to Heaven

Shashank Bhardwaj

Category Archives: Love