You are wonderful

I know what I am saying is sort of a cliché

that you are wonderful

and your kind demeanor

creates a surreal bond of which

I do not have most appropriate

words or phrases

but to say

you are wonderful

this flavor of being connected

to an indefinable sweet energy field

is beyond the frontiers of many minds

my narcissistic self at least feels so

that what I feel for you

no one else can do

and it sounds such a simple poem

as if it is a ballad of a teen fantasy

but then I think of you

more than I should think of you

In this wonderous spirit of life

you give me a reason to believe

that someone could be so wonderful

as you are

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My Seven Girlfriends

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

Rise with you

When the sun stretches its golden arms, and the morning whispers your name, I think of you, steady as the tide, warm as the hearth, a beacon in the quiet storm. Your laughter, a melody that dances through the chaos, a song I hum when the world grows heavy. Your spirit, unyielding, a tree rooted deep, its branches reaching for the infinite sky. In your presence, I am more. Not because you fill me, but because you remind me of the light I carry within. You are the mirror that reflects the beauty I often forget. Together, we are a symphony— not perfect, but alive, each note a testament to the joy of being seen, of being known. You are my safe harbour, my compass in the wild, my friend, my love, my vista And when the night falls, and the stars blink awake, I will rise with you not above, not below, but besides, always besides, in the quiet grace of this boundless love. And when the night descen...

Is it love of a decadent kind?

The fact that deep down within me is a desire to be a philosopher doesn’t go down so well with what I feel as down and out human and I am in that mold now as I stop for a while and think of her She makes me appear as a lover when we cuddle up our emotions together and in the hazy shades of the day when she needs to drowse the fires of her insecurities I become her mother I don’t think I interchange the roles by choice every moment is undisclosed and beautiful even though chaotic When I dream of her we lose our inhibitions in the wildest of ways in the morning when I talk to her, I become her friend, again And, I do not touch her but we bare our soul, as naked as it can be and just after that emulsification of minds I become her soul-mate never to be apart in a non-worldly sense Surely there is an attraction Sometimes sublime and immaculate sometimes too boldly honest Sometimes a sinful construct W...

Sandeep Kulshrestha's Poetry

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