Tyger Tyger. burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye.
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies.
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat.
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp.
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears
And watered heaven with their tears:
Did he smile His work to see?
Did he who made the lamb make thee?

Tyger Tyger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

I'll never forget her face.
Our eyes met; both had butterflies
In our stomachs that had
Butterflies in theirs.

Teenage features made
My eyes softer from
Touching them with vision.  
Smiling with every inch of

Herself; slightly protruding
Canines gave her a sense of
Wildness. An insanely
Beautiful wolf.

Mouth slightly open in
Centre at default.
Those lips that women botox
Themselves to achieve.  

Angelina Jolie's half-sister's face.
I became a slightly different man
Then.
Like after a near-death-experience.

After three and a half years together
She still blows my mind.
I can watch her from a distance, and
Contemplate the way her skin seems

So thin over her collar bone that
You wouldn't dare even kiss it
If you could. That, and how I rest my
Face there every evening and thank

Whomever it May Concern
For it all.
I am a man with hungry eyes and
Hands.

Beauty is my ******.
My own strengthening, inspiring,
Comforting -every-day-Heaven-
******.

I could feel you
right in my dream
I could feel you
right in my heart
Does that mean
I still love you?

You are
the one
for me
  And
I am
the one
for you

I look for repetition in my
Poetry  
Run my hands through
Months of whittling and
Fitting
Words into figurines to
Detect

Boredom by border between
Own style and
Self-copying crossed
I find

The strongest move
I can make
Is to keep writing
However the Hell I
Want.

The coquettish full moon, on a cloudless clear sky,
apple of the eyes of lovers from far and wide,
impishly wicked you are, in that avatar enticing
your eyes seek only the one for whom your heart beats for.
At times you are an anorexic crescent wearing a misty veil,
flirting with fluffy clouds, you make each one go  crazy
Curiously I behold the village belle simple, peeping out-
of the window of her cottage, waiting for the lover,
who comes at odd hours with palpitating heart
My love, you are one of a kind, displaying myriad faces
an enchanting presence, I crave, each moment, in whatever form
how could I ever prescribe the way your love to reach me
your love is my never setting moon,
                                      whichever way you choose to express.

A blank canvas, inspires a painter
A blank paper, inspires a poet
From a blank we can draw inspiration
They are not blank, but an empty space
Untouched with the creative juices
To be filled with different moods of hues
And written on, with the most fertile thought
From a blank, we can draw a conclusion
Inspired to come up with most enchanted sketches
As artistry is the masterstroke, drawn on a blank
An abstract idea sketched, to inspire*





© Amitav (Radiance)

To be kind and patient.
To see the child within
The heart behind a thoughtless
Mouth, and count to ten.
Treat it as such.
Be biggest.
King.  

To let the lashes heal hidden
Under a heavy cape
And not mention your pain.
Judge only
Those in need of judgement;
Leave the rest
To play.
King.

To ride into battle first; sword
Raised to an enemy campaign
And hurt only foes
With steel as wide as
The history of your beloved
Land. Win.
King.

To only wear your crown
Ceremonially.
All other days a monk; humbly
Uncovered beneath
The eyes of God.
King.

I wonder
why I miss you?

You are my drug
I am addicted to you
for the past one year
and now I am feeling
the side effects of you
still the best part is
I can't get rid of you
for I know
I am addicted to you
and It's impossible
to live without you

I know that
you are not perfect
but I also know that
you are who you are
I know that
you are not like film heroes
but I also know that
you are the hero
to my film (my life)
I know that
you may make mistakes
But I also know that
it's human nature

It's still you
that I love
It's still you
That i want
It's still you
that I miss
It's still you
that I adore
It's still you
that I need
It's still you
That i hate
Because
there is
no reason
for me
to hold
on to you
this much
because
it's still you
I'm holding on

Green and blue joined
By red cabins
Against them both.

Skies and fields.
She yawns under my
Hand on the train.

Outside the other window,
The ancient snake of silver
River; no longer the

Highway, as in old
Days rich with
Boats and flotsam.

I cannot see a cloud.

She's a cat in the sun through
Glass; stretching, slight little
Clicks of joints and bones.

Leans her head
On my shoulder. Smells of
Shampoo and Summer-

Skin.
Is gone.

There are woods yet that
We're in.
Paths perhaps in shadows

We must walk
To get out,
Together. Still,

I cannot see a cloud.