Books, Desire, dream, Fiction & Poetry, Heart, Life, Love, Poetry

A Cat’s Conundrum

A Sage blessed us nine lives :
I think about it and I somehow let us dissolve
in the nine clouds
each made up of ways
of us waking up together
next to our perpetual bliss.

Of me, being next to you, every-time,
dissolving, disappearing
Meghalaya, Māwsynrām
a million miles, a separation in river

I learnt to swim,
in a warm untouched river,
because I saw you,
calling me.

Do it, as if you don’t respect :
these lines of these foolish landscapes.
your heart, I shall trace.
In these sands with no heart,
In these ocean with no love,
In these air, with no warmth.

I am, devoid:
complete me.
with a voice.
as you always do.

I shall float.
like the moon,
for earth.

beauty, Desire, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Love, Poems, poetry

Blurry Nightmares

We were drunk enough
to embrace a dark oblivion
the steps were hazy, we fell
on a bed and lost our visions.
I don’t remember how it all started,
I just felt my hands groping your breasts,
caressing them, squeezing them while
your hands were inside my pants
stroking my cock, massaging my balls.
you were quick to take it all in mouth
at once and wet the tip with your malicious tongue, I felt the gags, earthquakes shivered my heart, drop some saliva for godsake.
Don’t be so rough, don’t make a beast out of me tonight, where I can tear your shorts and panties
and spank those tempting hips of yours.
Just don’t.

beauty, dream, Fiction & Poetry, Life, Poems, Poetry

warmest nostalgia

wet pine trees,
the rain caressing the leaves,
a grey blanket, suffocates the green,
ice cold puddles, breeze and breath

I walk past, barefoot.
my toes cold enough to dream of summer,
towards the old house,
where the verandahs are free,
segmented and full of flowers.

the bed nearby astonishingly dry,
I sleep, beneath a velvet blanket
the air kept calling me,
the rain kept dreaming of me.

I wake up to a faint sun,
6:31 am , and warmth has melted,
smell this nostalgia,
now.

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

Library

To write about you,
is to write about me,
my heart is so shared with you,
like this weather of summer
discomforting but teasing.

I wake up everyday and wait,
for your messages
despite the time difference that separates us:
This distance is a number,
I tell my dilapidated eyes.
My vocal cord disagrees counting them.

Your brown cat eyes, full of distant memories pulls me up
in our cloudy sunshine,
what else do I want, than be next to you
somehow, somewhere.

To read some books, sip some lemonade.
|not because a million other people feel the same
but because you picked me up sometime,
somehow like a rare book in a bookstore, without a pause.
I was readable somehow.
I was interesting.

I have to be a collectible,
the one you take with you,
to sleep in those cold, gloomy afternoons.

Again and again and again,}
till you forget about your library.

fiction and poetry

Drift

as you drift away, In the bus whose windows

are nothing but drops of the last night’s rain.

Remember, these castles

and cathedrals : memoirs of a fading

glorious past, these icy beaches and almost kissed shorelines,the sun hiding somewhere in the clouds. This wind, just before it rains,

This all brings me back to you.

So if your fingers tingles with a breeze,

Its just me dreaming of you.

I am not there but somewhere I shall slip into your heart with a smile for no reason.

Bear this presence till you reach your destination, this journey is nothing but a pause, where I wait for you, as always.

beauty, creative-writing, dream, Fiction & Poetry, Heart, Life, Love, Poems, Poetry

Yesterday

Yesterday I thought of you
And the yesterday before
It seems as if my yesterdays
Are full of nothing more.
It is not only yesterdays
of which you’ve entered in

For tomorrow is soon to come
Where more thoughts of you begin
to never end, dissolve or disappear.
This is my beautiful paradox.

My prison without keys
My evening without the sun
My heart without memory
For you are always there.

beauty, creative-writing, dream, Fiction & Poetry, Love, Poems, Poetry, Writings

Time

I tried talking but somehow couldn’t
I waited but it was not worthwhile.
How can I make you a moment,
and disappear forever

You stay and exist as a glass,
beautiful and untouchable ,
Even In my house of touches.

I am not the winter that dies,
Not the summer that is unbearable,
I am the moon,
I work on the tides.

Shall we dive once?
As you promised.
I need you in waves,
To drift wherever you want.

Just once again.

Writings to Heaven

Shashank Bhardwaj

Tag Archives: Poetry