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

Unforgetting

I swallow a room in my mind,
to digest its origins.
Its woodwork churns and mollifies,
I could feel my fingers full of sawdust and laughter,
lost handprints(possible mine), from the dying
furniture and the floor caress my head.

You will always find a way to meet yourself,
once you are forgotten by everyone.

The lights are turning dim,
I do not know, how to serve light in a tall glass for myself?
Can you teach my fist to hold sands of darkness?
I shall learn somehow, to sprinkle when necessary.

You can learn anything, you want.
But remember to put off the light in the end.

The garden screams with its emptiness,
and my eyes could bear the shrieks.
Is this is how I forget your touch?
Without music? Without sleep?

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creative-writing, Desire, Fiction & Poetry, Heart, Life, Love, Poems, poetry

Dreamlands

Oh what a blessing it is to see you in the daylight,
Blue sky, green grass, and your skin, it glows,
I love the hot days where we stare the warmth, in our eyes.
I love the cool nights , where before we fall onto the beds, hoping to travel into the caressed dreamland

Ends decipher themselves,
As we trace the origins,
of us coming close,
and forgetting to waltz back
Into this slippery reality

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

Flowers on Fire

The subways are empty
at the dead of the night.
Their exits recoil themselves
in the ashes of the ashes.

I whiff a pure smoke of a forgotten memory
and let it breed within my substructured brain.

A graveyard of cigarettes greets my shoes.
The lights go hazy as the winds turn warmer.
Another dull night has been devoured today,
with the help of a fifth of liquid courage.

Darkness needs darkness.
Its an immortal curse,
an undying thirst.
It travels with an agonizing silence
from the corpse of an empty bottle
to my eyes, staring an abyss

I wanted to curse everyone
with my eyes, while slitting their throats
by my tongue.

But I reach home dejected
whirling myself into an abyss
of nothingness.

I try the usual grind,
to type something beautiful,
but the words have escaped my prison ago.
I need a new remorse, to vomit a new grief.

So I set the whole garden on fire
and wait.

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Fiction & Poetry, Life, Poems, poetry

One Love Poem

I feel, I am out of love poems,
they have trespassed my diary as if,
someone blamed the toes of humanity
for it’s biased existence.

This earth, when it traces my toes.
finds a flood of remembrance.
the souls it walked with,
still brewing and adamant.
the nectar : my heart is now a mirror
the statis shall last it’s demise.
We are the last two birds,

Tell me, how to forgive a feather
for betrayal of flight.

To extinguish a love: A Manual.
Many people tried to write it,
in the rains of acceptance.
Ruins from Nostalgia to Acceptance,
Still hear the echoes,
of failure and despair.

There was no love poem
There was us.
It was just words.
The light was still as black,
as the day we slept together,
hoping for a dawn.
despite all the odds.
never knowing why.

  • Shashank Bhardwaj
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beauty, creative-writing, Fiction & Poetry, Poems, poetry

Tonight

Unfurl, unsettle.
The air around disappears sometime in the morning light.
Your eyes, beacon for a calming storm:
Baptised my name for yourself tonight.

Before the gods, the heaven,
The satanic laughter screams tonight.
Are you dream that i miss every day in brights.
Those pink lips, my sky tonight.

Unfurl, unsettle
My heart unrests
Come touch it once .
Atleast tonight.

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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

Touch

The curves begin to melt,
Its astounding we remember
Everything we touch.
So your memory is a trace of fingertips,
From the callous neck, to the sculpted collar bones, you are a like a hidden lake in an island forgotten, where I dip to forget myself,
The curves extrapolate like rays of sunlight never knowing why,
From the breasts to the fine arch of the back,
Everything dissolves again and again,
My hands aren’t wet with your touch?
Are you really what they call as magic?

For my hands disappear within you,
Tracing every tips without whispering you,
Touching everywhere without telling you?
Making it a dream, with dreaming you,
Do you feel it all, or should I be dissolving you?
Not by touch, not by shyness
But by a pool of shyness and leaving you?
I never knew how to withdraw, so the dress is leaving you?
Maniacal? Sensuous? Are you mad?
All sound same. While your eyes teach you.

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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