The storm and its climatic gore
shatters the neatly arranged
chateau glasses and spills
the well-loved Bordeaux’61
all over the floor.
That night, I sipped the lightning
and smelled the wine for the first time.
A sweet and pungent memory
with a taste too bright for a 7-yr old.
like venomous snakes
let us shed our afterlives
on the floors of past
to swim in the dark futures
unseen,untouched,unashamed.
A Tanka is a Japanese form of poetry that has a Syllable structure of 5/7/5/7/7 over the course of a single line with breaks.
Our goodbyes deserve an absence of light
as the eyes never learn to forget,
leave me slowly if you wish tonight
as the quietest tide consumed by night
we shall meet again in the warms rains of regret.
Our goodbyes deserve an absence of light.
This sleep shall disappear in this Stardust, pure white.
as memories burn in broken mirrors with cigarettes.
Leave me slowly, if you wish tonight
as the colors do, in the hues of black and white.
We shall meet again in the rainbows and colorful silhouettes.
Our goodbyes deserve an absence of light.
The warmth shall dissolve in the impending frostbite
as we dream of beautiful icicles in cold sweat.
Leave me slowly, if you wish tonight
but as an image disappearing into the night
we shall meet again in the destined afterlives.
Our goodbyes tonight deserve an absence of light.
Leave me slowly, if you wish tonight
© Shashank Bhardwaj
Rules of Writing a Villanelle – Villanelle Rules
Previous Posts –
Quantum of quivers queue quintessentially,
the rancor from the relishes reverberates with rage.
serenity seeps slowly into the sleep of sensuality:
as I tickle the tenacious thighs and think of tricks.
the universality of the urges shall not be undone.
the vagrancy within myself will end vividly.
our acts are now xeroxed, the near x-mas forgotten
the youthful yumminess of the yesteryear revisited.
Insanity is an ignifying Ice for us,
as jaws jabble juices of just japes.
kings born with a knack for kingdoms:
with knights kneeling in front of Kahlua and coke.
Love is lust covered in luscious clothes,
mannerisms minimizes into meticulous miseries
as the necessity to kiss numbs numerous women.
Obscenity today tastes like oozes of opium.
my profane heart loves to preach prosperity:
after the plunders of promiscuous nights.
adapt to the axiomatic allusions
as this bewildered belly beseeches,
craving cautiously to control the cancerous mind:
dissolving by defying delusions
and the dearth of decisive decisions.
elixirs evaporate even now,
fermenting into the fickle sky:
gods are gasping ; gorgons are giggling.
heretics and humans slowly cry.
the real loving people,
the ones who feast on hearts
for years and centuries and
hunt on the smell of affection,
stay away from them.
Avoid them.
For they would make
you feel loving is normal,
it’s necessary.
But it isn’t
the real insane people,
the ones who shapeshift
into volcanoes and waterfall
at a slight change in air flow,
Avoid them.
For they would make
you feel insanity is normal.
it’s necessary
But it isn’t.
the real versions of you,
the ones who you greet in the mirror,
the artist, the erotic and lewd writer\dreamer,
the failed guitarist, the Bukowski in making,
Avoid all of them.
For they would make
you feel failure is normal
It’s necessary.
But it isn’t.
Writings to Heaven 