Desire, Fiction & Poetry, Life, Poems, Poetry

Ellipsis

concatenated existence
today, tommorow,
the time unfurls :
measured by solitary light.

The cellular disruption of memory :
a dream devours a dream
a desire devolves :

                         wish
             need
want

Oh ! the ladder to abyss,
come, conjure the collusion :
fear in the mellow sunlight,
apprehension in a mother’s womb,
desire in a meaningless world.

Standard
creative-writing, dream, Poems, Poetry, poetry, Prose

Rotten Bones and Displaced Heart

There is no shame in choking the uneasiness
out of one’s sleep.

My larynx melts
when it is this dark.
The neck dissolves itself,
into a pool of subtle cold regrets

Silence drapes my bones
in a shroud of voiceless memories
rotting them, turning them
into the color of a fragile copper abandoned
in an unnamed graveyard.

It is basically a practice of perfection,
to death: the permanent sleep,
the unanswered question stabs
the unasked answer,
The god with no eyes and a displaced heart
just sighs.

Shashank Bhardwaj

Standard
fiction and poetry, Life, light, Poems, Poetry, Prose, sadness

Dread

I do dread
the ghostly shadows
flinching and playing
with the mirrors
making faces
a new one every time,
they whisper in the dark
and laugh mockingly
behind my back

I do not get angry though,
they at least show what they are up to
unlike us who do the same,
but pretend to be angels
all the time.
even in the light.

Standard
fiction and poetry, fiction&writing, Freehand Writing, Life, Memories, Poems, Poetry, Prose

The Shoe Turned

image

Clothes unpacked,
scrambled over bed,
bookmarks scattered over the table,
laptop hibernated,
A burger half eaten,
cigarettes butts in ashtray,
a bottle emptied
and only a single shoe turned,
Forget about writing,
someone had a night.

© Shashank Bhardwaj.

Standard
Articles, Desire, fiction and poetry, fiction&writing, Life, Love, Memories, pain, Poetry, Random thoughts, Writings

Not Today

Disgusted and Tired,
I wake up in my room
and watch men walking to their offices
like a group of penguins
I feel the air grew warm and sad for me
but not warmer than my quilt
I see the day bright
but some days you want to drink darkness
and have hangovers of past
of times when you were not having a penguin suit
but just a naked scarred soul which was afraid to live like so.

Posted from WordPress for Android

Standard