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
of clothes that i once left.
and two seconds of
laughter.
Sepia fills my lungs,
nostalgia has [...]
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 time, this lapse within [...]
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 to [...]
Posted on July 21st, 2004 by Neha Viswanathan
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