Tag Archives: heart

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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beauty, creative-writing, fiction and poetry, Life, Love, Poems, poetry

Writing in a dream

You wear a skin of butterfly bush,
and bathe in a pond of musk,
a dark ocean slithers in your eyes,
with a breeze of warmth trespassing
flesh and bones.
An elixir of forgetfulness drips by the lips,
while potent desire brews on the tongue,
I sometimes wonder what your voice could do,
in the dark?
The collarbone is a carved symphony
with a pleasant hymn in the rain nights,
Have you ever touched something
and not see it melt and sublimate at the same time,
I feel sorry for your neck, for it is a sublime echo of loneliness,
awaiting a cold drizzle that drips to your waist slowly.
Your hands do not forget your love,
they leave imprints on fleshes of those very lucky.
Well I don’t believe in luck.
I believe in writing about them with my bare hands.
What about you?

– SB

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

Split

Hymn those verses
as eyes dive into this
seminal darkness.
the very ones I always hear
and forget
at the end of the dreams.

Build a crown of wood,
and lit it up for those
eager to taste it.

Split the fire
into two parallel mirrors:
power and desire.
let me see the anatomy
and the invisible bones.

They shall keep burning each other
till they forget their purpose,
as the mind and the soul forget
when awaken by the rain of blood.

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

It ain’t

It ain’t a garden
full of roses.

It ain’t an ocean
with humming shores.

It ain’t a waterfall
with raging water.

It ain’t a sky
bleeding crimson.

but it is

a crashing spaceship
manually over-ridden.

a pit of lava,
with miseries of past.

a tornado
engulfing cities.

a subtle rain
entangled with petrichor.

my heart is just a dungeon
with a beautifully dead princess.

stuck in gravity, space
and unwanted timelines

but still breathing the blur,
still living the dream

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fiction and poetry, Life, Love, Poems, Poetry

Northern Lights

Couple watching the Northern Lights (Aurora Borealis), Reykjavik, Iceland

Come here,
Sit next to me,
Don’t leave me tonight.

Watch, as the emeralds melt
in the turquoise colored sky
and the winds of winter
dry the sky’s wounds
through mellow howlings.

This cold is neither bright or dark.
like our love, it is mysterious and tasteless.

Come raise a glass of wine to our love,
let it spill and purify the snow.

Let it drown us, till we become reflections,
aligning perfectly in infinite dusted mirrors.

Don’t leave me tonight,
Come here,
Sit next to me.

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

A Fisherman’s Dream

beach

a deep abyss awaits,
with hues of blue and red above,
as the horizon devours the sun,
amidst the salt and sand,

a fisherman
melts into the stupor,
of this serenity toxified,
by smell of the exuberant waves

while the red sun,
slits the blue skies throat,
the fisherman dreams of drowning,
of kissing the waiting abyss,

of floating lifelessly,
in the ocean full of life,
he dreams to return to his friend,
to his father, to his deities,

just to be reborn again,
as a wave,
as a kraken,
as a breeze,
that never dies.

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