(give me a title for this)

(give me a title for this)

i look at my reflection and
watch myself smile.
isn’t it a wonder
how perfectly the mirror
magnifies some lies.

the moments spanning less
than a day spent with you
make me realise; how an eternity
can be trapped between
a sunrise and a sunset.

the further you went away
the broader i opened the gates
of my heart. they now occupy every
emptiness and every space
because Jaana if you ever
decide to come back; you just have
to keep moving ahead.
my heart now is the size of this universe
open for you to discover.
you will find me anywhere, everywhere.
i am not a person you left behind
i will always be waiting for you
a few steps ahead
to one day address you
as only mine.

nowadays; more than a heartbreak
the word faith terrifies me.
i pledge allegiance to sadness and blues
and then expect to paint colours of hope
that my love will be the immutable
shade of you.

writing poetry has metamorphosed me
into a critic; from a poet.
i attempt to deconstruct the myths of
a well written poem.
what are words judged upon
when feelings have neither a pattern
nor any reason?
how do we end up making words
so dominant.
conferring them with the power
to evaluate the virtues of
emotions and their expressions?
what do you call a poem
that is not well written?
if there is a thing such as
sophisticated art?
how does one unlearn the privilege
of being an artist of such art?

i have written so much
night after night; and right in
the middle of the day
at any given moment.
when i look at my watch
i find myself living the past
of a new zealander and
in the future of an american.
i ask – what is the real time in
the world right now?
is time like all our other desires?
how separate are we from time
if we are its creators?
how far into the future have you
really travelled to since the
start of this poem?
no matter how further you travel
your future could always be
someone’s past!

we are all born learners
and then fall into the nets
of paid education.
we have turned
the wonder of our neurons
into dollars and cents.
the higher you can afford
the more “charged” they become.

we have been bestowed
with the ability to heal
either through our words
or our deeds.
we become famous as
poets and doctors,
then we put a price
on the free gifts we
from nature have received.

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