Milly the moth.

"I'm Milly the Moth,
And I fly at night.
To call me a butterfly,
Would not be right.
If you open the window,
And put on the light,
I might come and see you,
One fine summer's night."

-Porter G

Photograph (c) Meghana Naidu

Refer to bottom of page for more details

You said

i Could.
paint my fingers pink
right now;
and, You
wouldnt know.

Binary love

"draw near, you'll Know
all's real; although,
virtually So."

Neurotic Poet: "Emily Dickinson"

"Because I could not stop for death, 

He kindly stopped for me; 

The carriage held but just ourselves, 

and immortality."

-Emily Dickinson

For me.

Like the previous "for me" this too was writtten for me and me alone.

"You fill me with joy,
And I smile at you.

You share your pain,
And I frown for you.

You touch my heart,
It melts for you in my eyes.

You open your arms wide,
I embrace you.

You present me life,
I give back to you what is rightfully yours."  

 Shamanth

Neurotic poet: "Edgar Allan Poe"

"Dream within a dream"

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

-Edgar Allan Poe

because I don't know...

I just opened
a box
of sugar-coated candy;
and it
turned out to be Tangerine;
the flavour
of paradise. Happy
Birthday.

Now.

I
don’t know now,
what mysteries your eyes tell;
not because
I
could never look into them,
without the fear
of it all slipping away;
but because you ,
never let me.


I
don’t remember
the feel of your hands in mine;
and it was not
I
who made me forget,
what it was like
to hold them with ease;
but the memory I had,
eroded itself.

I
don’t smile
at our song anymore;
even though
I
feel every note burst,
as true as the voice
that said it loved;
but inside me,
the voice grew silent.

I
don’t recognize
what lucidity your words hold;
not because
I
am lost within their maze,
of contradictions
and fear.
But because from these,
love, never broke free.

...

I am what you seek
when you stand, at that evening window;
On the empty, winding highway;
In the summer breeze and the winter days
and pressed between the drying flowers.

When silent dusk turns to black,
I am what you search for,
on the bench in a lonely park;
In fading ink and the flickering flame
and under raindrops on a tired day.

When you smile at the twined hands;
On the bench in a lonely park;
I am what you want,
in lilting song and whispered words;
and under dew laden boughs of the ancient tree.

I am what dances in dying light;
and what sleeps under heavy eyes.
I am what dwells in lingering gazes;
and what remains of fleeting life.

I am
realisation, forgiveness,
companionship and hurt;
I am nostalgia, acceptance
anticipation and fear;
I am inspiration, yearning,
love, despair and hope;

I am truth and time;
I am the journey in your mind.
I am the one without identity;
and everything, that you want me to be.

Of sleeping roads...

"So gaya yeh jahan ...
so gaya aasma.
So gayi ...
hai saari manzile
O saari manzile ...
So gaya hai rasta.
So gaya yeh jahan ...
so gaya aasma."

One of the few hindi songs i love, and this one for its lyrics, nothing else;
( i think execution could have definitely been better, instead of bubble-gum-pop and the jingles in the background, more poignant voices,bass, and stronger tones.
such sheer beauty in the words
completely and hideously underplayed by the song)

"raat aayi tho woh jinke ghar the
woh ghar ko gaye
so gaye ...
raat aayi tho hum jaise awaare
phir nikle raahon mein
aaur kho gaye...
...
So gaya hai rasta."