Sandeep Kulshrestha's Poetry

The heat of her verse gets submerged in the throbbing sea of her eyes her eyes or a mirage? questions of subtle nuances don’t qualify when it comes to her A walk in the shrubs or a lazy kindled emotion she walks with the lilies sensuously camouflaging the rays of the sun with her smile traversing through the dropped leaves of the willow tree the words sounding of the woods descending on a mystical dawn a fantasy of a touch a listless sound of the bees she cascades humming dreams

Out of my seven girlfriends Six and a half are married one is conscientiously married to her inner, juxtaposed situation the second is married to the innuendos of a rat race, sitting all day without a back rest even on a gloomy dark clouds day the third has chosen a man to quench her hunger of joint fallacies of anger, of greed, of plastic smiles the fourth has married the contours of self obsessed melancholic constructs fifth is an abstract piece of broken clay married to her enigma, which shows in her gaze the sixth is on an eclectic bond with her own split self, a merger of effervescent intellect and a cosmic zombie the first half of the seventh is unmarried lives that part as a quintessential single, open, vulnerable, desolate, creative the second half is married to her traverse past which insulates her from future decadence

Her Red coloured dress resembled a Venetian house which lay besides the gondola in an unrealized dream as the Gondola retreated through the hazy eyes of the canal the house kept on getting bigger painting one part of the lake with a mixed coating of the red and the green accumulated piece of the ubiquitous waters but still red was the colour green was the envy she was herself with the poets while a poet let one more dream die

Parleys of sunset Immaculately playful over the corner office at the cusp where the late evening coffee meets the sea this sight hardly ever melts the succulent arousal of power the power of seeing the sea through the blinds and smiling the stock is on the upswing and so are the waves of the thrashing sea the sunset pats the shadow of the fading sun on the periphery of the faded evening the blinds are down

morning starts with a holocaust or was it last night that the bird sensed it? one who came from the farm where the feed was stale was willing to die the life was anyhow wretched, he said so, a nice human being could consume him and offer him nirvana the cage was anyhow worst than a concentration camp the horrendous travel to the place of mass murder was not which anyone saw while eating a popcorn with the bird’s name on it there was no preparation, no time for the last words or wishes but a colossal fear and anxiety there was no noose to hang but brutal strokes of rusty knife if it is “halal”, it is a slow death and “jhatka” means the end of the soul the bird becomes the part of someone after death and hence lives on with the same fear, and same anxiety caged as ever before, in the graveyard which is called “human”

bleak heat inconsequential hopes time stands still

Listless, like a churlish dawn over the overcast vineyard, at the plucking the eyes don’t see the foggy distance the mind cannot fathom stillness before the vengeful storm hallucinations of walking on a thin wire when the world looks like a haze of black and white and grey through the translucent lenses of a stoned photographer the boredom converts into a dark spiral of disdain and decadence nothing, not even a favorite movie does the trick what does it all mean? which spicy corner of the city shall I tread or discover to get the purge of emotions of laughter, of gratification? sleepy eyes yet no sleep the fog disappears from the windowsill and transcends into a gloomy space the mind craves stillness of the chatter and a tranquility of sunshine in this clutter of hopelessness

A flyover collapses over the corpse of human life and a bomb explodes across the street in what is known as another Country a large conglomerate of blood and fear spills all over and the dirty mind laughs an over-speeding drunk vehicle rams into a trivial footpath and some perish the creation which took painful nine months gets out of this world in friction of nanoseconds should this bring a numbness to the heart or a “life goes on” hashtag in the brain to inspire the self-degraded human mind of course their kids died, why should we bother the news channels bring the new chemistry to the chaos the morning innocent Sun and the silence and the newspapers are an imperfect match morning Tea is still better the subtle pain of the mind, though stays in the corridor of thoughts every life, killed so ruthlessly every day, mostly so, without any reason makes living so fragile, so decadent, so liquid trampled by politics and fuelled b

“Surreal, but nice” the actor said in a movie when he got swayed by a kiss which was instantaneous and effervescent i did believe in the movies and created mine in fantasies I still do the landscape looks more real on the screen and so does romance and lovemaking so i was part of this week where i re-developed my teenage instincts and it happened the forties doesn’t make you less romantic then your vulnerabilities age is merely temperamental i was gently persuaded by her lips to respond back illicit for some a secret for many sinful for me the softness of her mouth melted my thin line of defense the kiss was a culmination of hidden desires and molten self the raw skin touching mine love was omnipresent with the noise of traffic and fear of the knock on the door the kiss was lustfully decadent and meditative “surreal, but nice”

smile beautified into a serene wave of the youthful rivulet the dawn wakes up with her yawn talking over a platter of burger, coke and chips messages in German conveying the bond winnable heart mildly cribbing puerile, dreams woven over the crestfallen lure of love that’s what she is temperamentally tranquil yet angry with a sub-aqueous sobriety she suddenly stopped our soothing confabulations out of her own inner long conversations of few lonely battles of hearts, of tears, of disquietude she will be out of this perplexity and please her soul, like always I gained my heart in knowing her