Awake throughout the night
I gaze at the canopy above
Lit with numerous twinkling stars
Making me feel like a star
As if the stage is set for me to ponder
The luxury of the quietness, is priceless
At night, the mind seems the brightest
When the fountain of thought overflows
Replenishing the queries of the heart
The busy mind slows down
A rendezvous between the mind and heart starts
That is only when my doubts are cleared
I am a silent audience, listening to the reasoning
The heart and the mind are my guides
Providing me the guiding light, for the road ahead
And the night seems brighter compared to day
As consciousness gets a new lease of life
To get me through another journey, the next day
And the night is a reminder, it’s there for me
To host me at the center stage, showering me with stars
By night, I prepare for another day**




© Amitav (Radiance)

Mirror-faced with
The cold feeling of
-Razor in hand-
Having taken off
Too much beard.

This knowing you made
The argument
Ugly.

This familiar road. Same bus
Every morning for
Seven years,
Yet never
Noticed

The oak tree
On that field
Until
Now.

A majestic crown of
Darkest green upon
Wood as solid as
Boats and homes.

Growing as slowly
As it wants.

It can.

Riverside camp
Site plans.

Stones smooth from
Currents of centuries

Surrounding ditch
Dug for bonfire.

Driftwood shelter
Tied with fresh willow twigs,

Tiled with leaves and ferns.
Location for personal business

Decided upon and upheld.
The choice is mine whether to

Watch the weather, the fire,
The sunset and its mirrored twin

Where dinner skips for its own,
Or the spaces between it all.  

I have shovel, axe and a knife
As sharp as a scorned woman's

Tongue. Sleeping bag, and salt.
If the fish doesn't bite

I'll sleep hungry. No worry.
My surroundings always

Provide. They tolerate me;
I address them as I would

Any mother.

I found -in the shadow of a
Crane rigged and ready- that
I couldn't help myself.

Took a ladder to the huge sphere
Of chipped and battered iron,  
And threw one leg on either
Side of the chain.

Sang leaning and rocking
Into the walkie talkie
As my foreman spat his
Coffee not to choke; laughing along
With Swedes, Polish, Lithuanians
And Norwegians alike.

Miley. Bringing people
Together.

When she reads, the way her
Tongue peeks out slightly
As if trying to taste the words,
Makes a full-day poem worth
Every second of dropping ink.

I love it all, she'll say.    
Even if only the first few
Lines make the side of her
Mouth curve in comprehension

The way it does when she's
Warm from being
Agreed with by whom- or
Whatever's before her.

She'll love it all, as long as I have
Words and blood in me.
She'll love it all, as long as I have ink
And we have history.

There are little diamonds
Delighting her
In the bits of white between
Every word.

Poor girl.
In love with Poet.

Poet and man; angry at times;
Firing insults you can't

Possibly
Counter.

Beating you black and blue
With flowers
And feathers.

Poor girl.
Loved by Poet.

Loved and held closest;
First to fall victim

To every sudden movement
In matters of hearts
And hands.

You asked for a life
Full of beauty and music
The devil said no

A perfect end to perfect day.  
The sun has set, is on her way
To pleasure others; never stay.
We borrow every ray.

And once again the darkness
Flows, the breeze has turned a force that
Blows the day away, each creature  
Knows: An infant thunder grows.

I went to bed to catch some sleep,
But once again the skies do weep
And here, instead of slumber deep
Awake myself I keep  

To witness such magnificence,
As lightning's dance in radiance.
It draws for me omnipotence;
It awes my every sense.

So here I lie with cat on bed
Who doesn't even raise her head
When Tor throws hammer up
Ahead. Cares only that she's fed.

Such comfort I have found I find
In Nature seeming most unkind.
And nearly dizzyingly unwind
From daytime, now behind.

My eyes turn heavy to the sound
Of power unlike any found
Within the skies or on the ground.
I'm safe, there's gods around.

His pants were nearly down on his
Knees. His ballcap was more than
Askew. She  
Was way beyond eighty, as swift
As a snail.
The traffic more "train" than a
Queue.

His friends were all laughing, and
Yes, so was he. Suppose it was meant
As a joke.
But so gently he took her by arm and
Across; our gratitude's all he
Provoked.

She thanked him with eyes that were
Wet with relief. And left us bystanders
In plain disbelief.
He bowed like a gentleman, bid her
Adieu...
Doing as real people do.
-
I knew I had hurt her by ways of a
Child; thoughtless and  
Unconsciously.
I asked her the next day to sit for a
While. And accept my apology.

She said with her hand on my cheek
Like a mom: "No need for it boy, I
Know you.
It happens to everyone under the
Sun... You acted like
All people do."
-
I've nothing but gratitude every day
For people acting in every way
Thinkable, all we're expected to
Is to do just as all people do.

Sometimes we are kind, but more
Often than not
We're selfish and cruel and
Demanding a lot.
But it's worth it, I think, for those
Angel-like few
Who do things as real people do.

Today was a good day.
I had one worry; it died.
My soul lost weight; my heart
Found its way back up
From the bottom of my belly.

That, and the sun
Shone all day.
We're not spoiled with that
Here in the semi-arctics.

I didn't go hungry for a
Split-second.
I laughed until I cried
Several times at work.

Every face I saw on the street
Had a feeling of friendliness
To it.

With days like these; who needs
Dreams?
I'll sleep like a fat, old cat tonight.
Content and unafraid
Of tomorrow.

We are the ones, the now generation
The very ones they keep talking about
We are the few without a clue
The face in the crowd without a doubt

We are the social to the unconscious
We are the ones that sleep suicidal dreams
We are the few who out there among us
Have seen life roll around but don't know what it means

We are the line of the consumer
Set out to buy the latest thing
Not sure what we want so they must tell us
Letting us in on what we all need

We are the hope of the next generation
Taking ten fold beyond previously
Perhaps the end that's in the making
Not really sure what to believe

Except that we are the ones