I come back home,
to find a trail
of your clothes
and your inner-wear
leading me to the
swimming pool,
where you lay
with your legs spread,
nipples erect and
hands wet from
touching the
necessary places.
No wonder I forgot to ask,
‘What is for Dinner Tonight?’.
The Feast was ready.
Your fingers map my body,
The neck turns into a calloused valley.
The breasts are the warm deserts now.
This waist is a barren wasteland, dying of thirst.
Between my legs
flows a river unseen,
a forest untouched, by fingers.
A paradise lost in time.
Transverse this map tonight,
make it rain, just conjure a flood
all over my body.
the flavours of the paradise await you, come, seek a taste of forgotten heavens.
I don’t care now,
I can’t wait now,
Teach me this cartography, Just don’t ask why.
© Shashank Bhardwaj
My myopic eyes
in the whitewashed veins
dissolved a Solar Eclipse once,
sprinkled slowly in the transparent ponds
of vision, through a negative film of ours.
Call it now, The fate’s cruel jape.
A sky long-awaited
and devoid of sunlight
is forgotten forever.
I do remember though, the universe we created
in silence, while we lent our voices
to an air that couldn’t speak.
The negative is now a mere vicissitude of colors,
for a time that went lost in translation.
– Shashank Bhardwaj
Let us wake up someday
in the shadow of the dreams
where your lips are the only light
and I am inured to blindness.
Guide me to them
but not by touch
for this heart
shall memorize the curves
and you will be lost forever.
A smell shall suffice,
transverse me through your body slowly.
Till it is the light only that I can smell.
The light only, I can feel.
Let me be the mirage
in the deserts of your loneliness.
You will be the river that flows within me.
We will forget the thirst at least.
Till these dreams are sublimated
and the shadows vanish,
Come, walk on the dark side
of these fragile dreams
where the music fades
as the dark green leaves
welcome our toes.
I shall teach you someday
to seek darkness in the fire
and we shall make a home out of it.
I promise.
© Shashank Bhardwaj
my pillows turns cold
the tongues go dry
an uneasiness dissolves in the air
as it realizes a possibility
where you turn into a shadow
with no face,
your laughter that does not end in
kissing me for no reasons
our cuddling sleeps together do not turn into memories that are so close to edges of realities and so deep in the pools of dream.
the shades of skies melt,
it rains,
and I am standing alone
waiting for it all to be nightmare.
waiting for you to hold me from behind
telling it will be alright soon.
Go to sleep now
and don’t forget my chocolates.
© Shashank Bhardwaj
Gods are few,
Some say only two,
Some prefer counting one,
Some abhor openly; claiming none.
Some believe it’s a he.
Some pray to it as she.
Some sacrifice blood in thy name,
Some crucify with immoral pain.
Some live and die, without seeing you.
Some fool the generations; claiming to be you.
Some meditate for years, finding you.
But the wise know, you are just an unheard story.
Neither False nor True.
Writings to Heaven 