Her Body is a shrouded mystery
and me the hungry traveller
won’t stop kissing and dissolving
in her.
Till such mysteries unravel
from lips to neck
navel to hips
and tits to lips again
I see myself getting lost
this isn’t a travel now
Its a trippy journey
tripping me with love and still mysteries float.
Why wonder?
Lets Unravel.
© Shashank Bhardwaj.
A train passes me by like a bullet
People surround me like a swarm of bees
till I become one of them
Instituted and brain washed.
Riding the bullet
To places where my creativity succumbs
and brain acts like a fucker with no love involved
doing monotonic fucking periodic motions.
But Why?
Because we trust our feared heart more than our balls.
© Shashank Bhardwaj.
Imagine a world without glasses,
with dull walls all around,
nowhere to see your face,
Nothing to brighten the light,
just dead walls,
no car windows,
no skyline view up from above,
no magical liquid contained in beer mugs,
Few people won’t be able to see around,
Few will be disillusioned,
but when someone asks me,
I say,
without glasses,
there would be no compare,
between beautiful and ugly,
between today and tommorow,
between wants and haves,
between where someone is from and where someone is going.
simple as that.
© Shashank Bhardwaj.
My Past sometimes plays Russian Roulette with me,
Instead of bullets that may cause sudden death,It uses memories.
The only problem is, it brings me down to the ground.
Every Single Time.
Posted from WordPress for Android
I have seen people wonder,
I have seen them go crazy,
thinking about what to write about,
they all want blazing responses,
Medals on their dead poem coffin,
that dies as soon as it becomes popular,
they want to be the next Bukowski or something,
as soon as possible,
One day someone asked me,
” What to Write About? ”
and I told him simply,
Once your soul is restless to write,
and an image in the head drowns you somewhere,
when you feel your hands laughing when writing,
then you should write.
Write about that dog who kept you wondering how happy can one be,
about a girl whose prayer made you stand in the traffic,
about the sky that made you head to bar,
about the rain that took you to your past.
Write about what have you inside,
Fuck the fame,people,followers.
Feed your soul till writing again becomes your wanted hangover.
Write yourself out.
Always yourself out.
Posted from WordPress for Android
If I started judging everyone by their faces,books would be my best friend as always.
Posted from WordPress for Android
Writings to Heaven 