You're a starlight I caught myself gazing at,
I can paint you with colors of the night.
Looking out the window
You're that star in the sky
That shines the brightest.
So elegant, I can see your slight twinkle
Like you're doing your own dance.
I can almost see it now,
How when I see you,
My self, deep inside
All I want to do
Is join you in that dance.
Behind these walls I'll stay
And fall into this trance .
I'll gaze at you and weep
My soul is trapped,
No wings of freedom
No joy to make me leap.
With every passing moment
I paint you with the colors of the night.
I know every star that adorns the sky
Every diamond that dots the nightscape.
But in this cage I'll sit and watch
You're the one star I wish upon,
Every night.

~

Silent sentence

The silence is deafening
pounding this cartoon anvil
lodged somewhere in my head
echoing through empty chambers

A loud dose of nothing
calls to me in voiced undertones
resonating with the volume
of butterfly wings pinned to a board

My clouded eyes look,
hoping my ears are mistaken
wishing for only a sound
vibrating in this vast glass hallway

Wave lengths in shorter shadows
collect on mesh grilles
protecting weathered speakers
cracked and taped…yellowed

Tiny dots felt of faulting fingers
braile’d emotions screaming
along a page of discomfort…blistering,
dog eared for no reason at all

Stillness…that is all…stillness
no wind, no color, no movement,
as I wait for this that shall not come
alone…perhaps unheard by others

This it seems shall be my existence,
written in quiet ink…invisible to most
no lemon juice tricks this time
as I serve my sentence…in silence

Rows of rogue gladiators
Recaptured and crucified.
Muscles, grit and warriorship

Beyond that of any centurion,
Humbled, humiliated, spat upon
By the wine-greased gears of a

Machine the size of seized continents
And cultures crushed to crumbs
Within weeks -not centuries.

The stuff of contemporary tales and
Future feature films. Justice -not
Unlike poetry- is a purely man-made

Concept. But so very unlike the
Other; as frail in its mortality as
Man's own justless Self.

The furnished souls
Adorned with mahogany
Luxurious pieces in every corner
Eau de parfum, the finest from France
Does not allure the senses
The settees, chaise lounges and recliners
Standing there, forlorn, awaiting guests
The ornate crystal chandeliers adorn the ceilings
Trying to illuminate the gloominess
The flooring of Makrana marble on the floors
As if there is a puzzle to be solved
It looks quizzically at the incoherent footsteps
Of the infrequent visitors, not even interested
Mansion filled with embellishments
Yet there are no worthy inhabitants
The Swarovski crystal curtains, veils the outside world
That waits, without any expectations or superfluities
To furnish the soul with love




© Amitav (Radiance)

Stop trying to remember his scent, he smelled like summer and reminds you of the time he made you laugh so hard, you snorted out milk on that dead, hazy day.

2. Don't waste your day trying to decipher what colour his eyes were, it'll only remind you of the galaxies and constellations that you once saw in his eyes

3. Stop trying to retrace the shape of his mouth in the middle of the night, you'll choke on your tongue trying to taste the mint he devoured seconds before pulling you in for a kiss

4. Stop reliving the times you clasped hands together, the glass plate will fall off your trembling hands.

5. Burn this list, admit that the galaxies and constellations shining in his eyes were wilted, the one in yours are bursting with fire. Remember on the dead, hazy day his laugh sounded like nails running down a chalkboard. Remember when you kissed, the weeds growing from his mouth entangled the roses blooming in yours.

Realize that one day, another boy is going to come and plant daisies where he left behind thorns.