Time

It takes me
Less than a day
To forget a
Shared routine
And go back to
Old routine

It takes me
Less than a day
To forget what
I had for lunch
Or breakfast

It takes me
Less than a week
To forget what
Articles will be published
In Sunday's paper

It takes me
Less than a month
To forget
Friends I thought
To be the best I would find

But

It takes me
More than a finite number
Of days, weeks, months or years
To forget
People
I hold close to me
I love deeply

So time is not just
The speed of the arms of a clock
Or the movement of the Earth
But the ability of
Our minds
To replace

To forget


And I need more
Time.

Needed: lover of words

I need someone

I can share poems with

Whenever I come across one

I fall in love with

And he,

(Yes, it needs to be a man)

Wouldn't offer interpretation

Or backstory

Wouldn't attempt to

Read in between the lines

And 'read at xx:xx' would suffice

As reply

And he would

Send me poetry

He falls in love with

And maybe

By falling for each other's

Choice of poetry

We would

Stumble upon

A love

We could, together,

Write a poem about.

It's a test

Spell my name
All five words
Forty one letters
Two surnames
A first and middle
Spell it all

(If you must
Throw in a joke
About the length of my name
And I will laugh
An obligatory laugh)

And then I'll know
You've paid attention

A poem

You've written a poem about love

And my heart leaps at the thought

You've written about me

Or even, written for me

Then I see her name

Hidden among the labels

And your words turn into needles

Tearing at my skin

Erase

Replacing pen with pencil

So my words can be erased

And if I don't add pressure

When pencil touches paper

I could easily remove any trace

That these words were ever written

Kind of how you did

With the memories we made.

Everyone around her

She walked around
With a smile
So amused she was
By the world she lived in
  And everyone she met
   Asked her why she was
   Smiling when the world around her
   Was crashing to the ground
So she wiped away the smile
Painted tear-stains on her cheeks
Frowned and allowed her forehead
To wrinkle
   And everyone she met
   Asked her why she was
   Crying when there was so much goodness
   In the world she lived in
So she wiped away the tear-stains
Smoothened her skin
Extinguished the fire in her eyes
Stilled her expressions
   And everyone she met
   Called her a heartless
   Emotionless monster
   Who couldn’t smile or cry

A+

(Written about a classmate who cheats during exams)

They cheat so shamelessly
Because they know their
God isn't watching

They cheat so shamelessly
Because if god didn't grant them intelligence
He would have at least made them criminals

They cheat so shamelessly
Because morals and values
Are buried under dominance and power

They cheat so shamelessly
Because they aren't afraid
To do what's wrong

They cheat so shamelessly
Because what difference does it make?
Their hands are already dirty

They cheat so shamelessly
Because that's what their god preaches
That's what they are asked to do

They cheat so shamelessly
Because an A+ is more important
Than honesty

Coffee

She had no special
liking for the
dirty and earthy taste
of coffee
And yet, she drank
cup after cup
of the dark liquid
sometimes too bitter
sometimes too sweet
and yet she savored
those last sips
when the powdered
remains that
settle at the bottom
of her mug
are forced to
travel in her system
swimming in the last sip
of warm liquid
caught in a tornado
created by her
swirling of the cup
so she could feel
the dusty remnants
scrape against
her aching
throat.

If she loved...

If she loved

The way she was loved

Hand-holding would be

Sandpaper on smooth surface

Lip-meeting would be

Glass shard on soft skin

Love-making would be

Gravel under tired feet

Leave-taking would be

Band-aid pulled off unhealed wound