Category Archives: poetry

beauty, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Life, Love, Poems, poetry

The Swan with Brown eyes.

She doesn’t float,
but the water and the world around her move
to justify her movements.

I observe bleakly, like a child observing snow.
Those brown eyes, the red beak.
of how could it exist:
In a timeline,In our timelines,
We briefly intersect each other’s life
and now she is inside my head with those eyes.

The nights turn to days,
the days turn to sentences.
I greet her everyday.
She becomes a prayer for an atheist.
A Song for the voiceless.
A Dance for crippled.

Would she be thinking same?
as I observe her even now?
Why?
Why not?

Is this a swan song?
Let her answer all.
Let her answer none.
The eyes speak for those who have learn to observe.
Let me observe.

SB

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Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Life, Poems, poetry

I

I want to hear your impatient moans
everytime I feel your skin with my tongue,
For I am blind to it’s contours and surfaces,
My hands only tends to the voices of flesh,
I silence the desires with my fingers
Till they become wet or tired,
Or pleasantly both.

I start by your neck, licking the flesh,
Tasting its warmth, the shirt unbuttons,
As my fingers slither inside,
Pressing your breasts, caressing them slowly
You let out a moan and bite me on neck.
I hold you so close, to begin with

The buttons break, the hands slide in,
I caress the breasts, feeling the nipples
They are bound to be erect, telling my fingers
To lick them slowly, to unhook and taste them.

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

Both – I

I want to hear your impatient moans
everytime I feel your skin with my tongue,
For I am blind to it’s contours and surfaces,
My hands only tends to the voices of flesh,
I silence the desires with my fingers
Till they become wet or tired,
Or pleasantly both.

I start by your neck, licking the flesh,
Tasting its warmth, the shirt unbuttons,
As my fingers slither inside,
Pressing your breasts, caressing them slowly
You let out a moan and bite me on neck.
I hold you so close, to begin with

The buttons break, the hands slide in,
I caress the breasts, feeling the nipples
They are bound to be erect, telling my fingers
To lick them slowly, to unhook and taste them.

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Desire, Fiction & Poetry, Life, Poems, poetry

Dream -II

I feel your lips with the tips,
The wetness escapes to my hand
Your neck feels the breath
the warmth, the wetness
as the lips and tongue are licked.
Hold it right there, dissolve the taste.
As the hands caress your breasts, feel your soft bra and entrapped nipples.
Just moan in the slowest you can,
Take the hand, teach it the ways.
Its all yours now even with your eyes closed.

The necks are traced, my teeth turn thirsty
Biting into their soft flesh, caressing with the tongue
Breasts are felt as hands move inside the top,
Touching the bra, feeling the soft clevage,
The erect nipples and the warm breasts.
Don’t break the lips, feel the touch through them

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

Dream

Curled and straight
You devoured the night
And teased it with your tongue
Till it grew on your hair
Curved and straight
The eyes glow as dark candles
In a blistering storm
When they shine.

The lips are colorless
Hiding every sign of touch
The collarbone disappears within grey
But the neck tempts by a glimpse.
and so does the clevage and insides
My eyes could wander and imagine
But would you read it?

The soft warm sponges of flesh
And their pink tips, are a thing of heaven
For they give the same pleasure.
Move below to the thin soft navel.
A hole of temptation, that makes her whisper
Softly when touched.

The red leggings are perfectly tight
Not an inch wasted, not an inch earned.
To give the legs a perfect shape,
While the red panties hold every beauty inside
Soft n firm.
I could slip my tongue from lips and reach there.
But i know u would like it slow
Its time to be patient then.

Calloused black hair, burned with fire
With eyes like melted ashes
lips pink melting river of desire
Emabled flesh of neck sculpted and traced
On a collarbone smooth as silk
The neck is fairest of all
A slide of tips through it
and you can feel the deep clevage
moving softly to warm firm breasts.
A slip of zip from behind and
Everything would turn soft.
Even your hands which are caressing slowly.

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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