Category Archives: Poetry

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

To melt is to forget.

I wish the glasses
in the broken mirror
to melt and take my face along
with the lonely sharp edges.
Let us turn together
into a faceless silver
that floats and floats,
but never expresses its tides.

How good would it be,
to start all over again
to let others search for you,
for days and nights,
but you are there inside,
you were always there
and no one cared back then
and now when you are melted and pure,
they simply lose their minds.

How good would it be
to again become a newborn child,
with just curiosity in the head
and with no taste of memory.

I could laugh again,
again and again
without knowing the reasons
to stop.

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

Image

There were reasons.
These walls smelled of you,
The little sparrows lost their way.
A graveyard of flowers,
withered in silence.
Everything you touched,
had turned into an insoluble memory.

So I held my syllables,
I forgave the explanations.
I forgot the time.
For, If I whispered,
it will all be true.
You will be gone.
You will become something,
I cannot comprehend.
The absence will become an image.
For which, I believe,
I am not ready.
No one could ever be.

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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

Sunsets

a crimson sky,
a blue horizon,
a careless troupe of albatrosses, yawning.
A voiceless master of the puppets,
feeding the salt in the air to its children.
an ownerless horse dreaming of grasslands,
a dog treading the unending shores,
a graveyard of the sand-castles,
without tombstones.

All patiently wait for the sunset.
It stays, I believe,
within each one of us.

One of the few things, the death
allows us to take with us.
Did you ever notice?

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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