A blank canvas on an easel
Not splashed with hues, yet
Yearning for the stroke of a brush
And be painted with the painter’s dream
Most intimate of moments coming alive
Reflecting the colors of the heart and mind
Stroke after stroke, brushes caresses it
Coming alive, with passionate undertones
In cahoots with the painter, an **** of colors
Brushes of passion, colors the emptiness
A masterstroke of the painter; the canvas is filled
With these kaleidoscopic moments
Vivid imagery of the painter’s heart, is an Arts saga  *




© Amitav (Radiance)

It feels like a bird
which migrated to a new world
leaving everything behind
so that things do not get rewind.

It feels like a shadow
a shadow which disappeared in the noon,
It feels like a caterpillar
leaving its cocoon.

It feels like a wood
getting separated from the tree,
It feels like a baker's pain
after fire in his bakery.

It feels like a bee
when it stings on someone, it dies,
It feels like it won't be able to see
the world anymore, & there were hues and cries.

It feels like the leaf
the leaf which blew with the wind
leaving the bunch of all its friends
not with the pleasure of relief
it feels like that leaf.

It feels like ink
the ink of my pen
that got away from the refill
to create wonders through men.

It feels like the words by a pencil
which got erased by an eraser,
It feels like a wedding that got cancelled
or a sad movie teaser.

It feels like the mosquito
who was killed by human
who was taught to **** the blood and run
but this happened because he ran slow
after all, u think that, he is just a mosquito.

It feels like the milk tooth
getting away from its root
that will never get there again
he will have to bear the pain.

I am the one in you poems
I am the one you adore
I am the one you wish to be with
I am the one who makes you write more and more

Now, I am the one whom you are holding on
I am the one you giving you coldness in return of warmth
or, I am the one you aren't letting go
I am the one making you low

Now, I am the you gave up on
or, I am the one who got tired of one-sided efforts
Yes, I am the one & being that one hurts
But I know I am the one
Getting love by none....

I guess you could call it poetic how by the age of 12 I had no recollection of what happiness tasted like on my tongue. Some would say it was tragically beautiful.
But it was not poetic, nor was it beautiful,  but it was tragic. It was so very, very sad, and that sadness is only doubled now that people see sorrow as glorious.  It is not glorious. It is not strength. It is a lump of iron in your chest and stomach and it eats you from the inside, out and you have no right to think that blood stained wrists are anything other than tragic. So very,  very tragic.

Everywhere I look
Visions of you

Ghostly images
Blurred and out of focus

I can't seem to shake it
This strange hocus pocus

I want you to leave
But I don't want to forget

The love that we shared
From The moment we met

I cannot move forward
Your love haunts me so

Will my heart mend
I really don't know

I travel through my days
With no end in sight


No matter What I try
You're still my hearts light

The constellation of the night sky
Dotted with Asterism
Calling our attention to the mystical lights
Plotting an image on our minds
The celestial space is where minds wander*





© Amitav (Radiance)

⠀            there is one girl i know.
⠀            her voice is of angels,
⠀            too perfect for this earth.

⠀            her voice could make
⠀            even the most stubborn
⠀            flowers bloom early.

⠀            her voice is the rising sun
⠀            and i can’t wait to wake up.

⠀   yes i do like music and catchy tunes
⠀         but the song that is your voice
⠀              is my favourite one yet.

⠀                          - BZQ