in most poems, a syllable of you, somehow falls …. and fits into the words
Posted on July 23rd, 2004 by Neha Viswanathan
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A curtain and You
A little after Afternoon, purple and you
Wet stars, and supposed you, Yesterday, she looked like her soul was bandaged with soft words, Marienne, has somehow found her way into the crevice again, Supposed you, were to slip a star inside the ocean, time was slow, and came by here only long after you decided she was to go.
Posted on July 23rd, 2004 by Neha Viswanathan
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Afternoon, blue and you
Last night, you entered through the mirror and floated slightly above where my breath lands, I could cup my hands, and the signs begin to show their weariness, All the lines, with six of their tributaries were being washed with four years’ worth of salt, and you still taste sweet. Or do you hold pieces [...]
Posted on July 23rd, 2004 by Neha Viswanathan
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Blah-ing
I don’t know if I should categorize my lack of ‘social skills’ as a mere aberration in an otherwise charming package. Probably not. Loud when I should be whispering Mad when the world is sane Quiet when everyone is laughing. Of course, there is no longer that tragedy that once was. At one point in [...]
Posted on July 23rd, 2004 by Neha Viswanathan
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Between Br and eath
I am drawn to the ‘outside’. Perhaps she reminds you of small dogs and tiny eyes
Posted on July 22nd, 2004 by Neha Viswanathan
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Outside ..
The weather hangs by thin blue strings..
Posted on July 22nd, 2004 by Neha Viswanathan
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Breathing in
At night, when all is visible is the most intimate, and the most bright. The blue curtains on the windows, turn to inky darkness, and I can’t distinguish between the two most intimate sounds. One of heartbeat, and the other of the fan blades. In between, my breaths seem to float into oblivion. This sensitivity [...]
Posted on July 21st, 2004 by Neha Viswanathan
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