But then love is now old

Love is old when it strikes me,

Love is not the funny freaky kind,

Neither messy, nor couture countless caressing carcass.

It is more of always, it is like those old ones

who stay together, live life free, bold together.

They are blind or they bind?

I never saw love creating jails.

Love can make me stay forever with you,

yet set you free, if that is your ultimate desire.

But, then if you claim your love,

Where will be the jail of thoughts,

fizzes, worries, fears and pains be?

So, let’s set apart slowly mate,

Let us know if we both can merge,

Merge me into you forever,

if not, let us be whole away from each,

Living and loving you, all this while,

All this while, I call life.

These three poesies make the series.

thank you for your wonderful support

I chose to love it that way one time

It is a continuation of narrative poetry.

But, then love touched the poetry, the truest form and I would sway a little. But, then the winds will always touch him within the spirits of the white coat.

When you love truly,

You love alone and often freely.

When you love truly,

You see it clear, you see him

and you see the world.

You see the light and you see the shade.

You see what you like and what you don’t.

You see what you waited for all this while.

You see none can fool you, nor even the one you love.

When you love truly,

You see the schemes, the plots, the madness

that strikes the world, that wound.

You know who did what, who’s who?

When you love truly,

You love to know that people

weaved a web under your nose,

Inviting you to step into it.

When you don’t, since you are naive,

yet you are concise, they wrap

a bouquet to fool you to the door.

But then, then wondrous magical love

happens and you see it all with eyes open.

The world can tell lies, a thousand of them

behind me, since the world knows several faces

from the past hold the key which

would open

the casket full of vices, gifted in wraps

of gold, silver and red rubies.

When you love truly.

You know love has finally set you free.

You know love has given you wings unseen.

No longer you need to stay in the love,

yet you do, only to be free in the end.

But, then you do not meet your love.

A love which was never meant to be,

But do you remember me, tell me?

If you do in your fuzzy big head,

why not have the love

and the freedom? Free at last.

But, I will be gone for long,

A memory or a moment perhaps.

I stay in your mind, a small bubble.

When you only love truly.

I am free in the end.

Free of all chains.

Free of pains.

Free of brains,

Free, free of refrains,

Free of terrains,

Free from vanity vain,

Oh! Love you know it,

Only when you love truly.

This night I dreamt of you

This is a narrative romantic poem

Please leave your likes and comments on the attempt.

The sleep came late, the faces of despair

hung around long, kids on wheels,

the white hairs flew amongst the blues

and the greys. The sleep came late.

My eyes were shut tight,

sleep lady spread her wings over them.

Then, you walked in, your smile gave a way.

The crowd was so huge, as people

jostled to keep pace, I stood in silence

for I needed a moment to know

it was really you, or I was dreaming in a dream.

The spirit and the astringent, the clean smell

of sick humans filled the air around.

The touch,

The feel,

The senses

arose to greet you.

I was far.

I walked back slightly

as you smiled, sulking a bit.

More noises, more humans, more filth,

but nothing could stop the bond,

the fire which flapped it’s wings

like a butterfly in my inner coils.

I knew I had to love you

the moment I met you

but it won’t touch you,

If you don’t touch it to know,

I was free then,

more free now to choose you everyday.

But, then I cannot meet you in person,

cannot cry, cannot moan the loss.

As I found you.

I live it everyday,

In dreams,

In streams,

In my bread and creams.

I cannot see you,

I cannot coerce you any which ways.

Your smell was close.

I shuddered at the thought,

It was only a dream and

I lay with open eyes.

Loving is never fun,

But loving you is not a pun.

It is deeper than most people know

Only to sleep in the depths till it’s snow.

Beneath which would burn the fire.

Slowly, solemnly, quietly, blazing

to melt the snow.

It would be you,

some know late, some know soon,

Some become friends, some take the moon.

I prefer to stay calmly since I know the boon

I walk happier and will live to be a spoon,

spoon of hope, spoon of love, spoon to balance

the marble, spoon to carry your part,

Never to leave it as I walk.

The only point is I can only try

Try to pray, try to spread hope,

Dimness draws near or is it far?

The only point is I can try.

Try to love you from far,

Try to pray for you from far,

Try to live with it from far.

Trying to glow brighter than the scar.

Whom do you call your own?

Whom do you call your own?

Blood, is it your own?

Religion, is it your own?

Castes, is it your own?

Skin colour, is it your own?

The hair colour, is it your own?

Whom can you call your own?

Those you love?

Those who teach you?

Those who betray you?

Those who hate you?

Those who love you?

What do we grow to become?

A profession?

A human?

A lover?

A philosopher?

A healer?

The world runs to become good.

The bad hides behind the good.

The bad survives only if stamped good.

Almost all times, bad leads to good and

Good leads to bad.

If good is what lives?

Then where is bad?

Bad survives in the turns, in the corners

in the shades, in the schemings and plannings.

If bad survives, it has to wear the gown of good.

If good survives, everyone survives, all survives all.

Whom do you love then?

Love whom we want to love.

Love is like lovely love.

Love is like the first rain.

Love is like the swinging train.

Love the one, you love to love.

Love only the one you wish to serve.

Light must flow through your nerve.

Well, love you deserve,

only to live to love.

How long can you grieve?

How long can you

sit in stations, in trains,

in buses, in plains, in parks,

Up on hills and grieve.

How long can you

see the sad humans, bad ones,

rugged ones, kind ones,

sweet ones, mourning people.

How long can you grieve?

Grieve for a home,

Grieve for a bed,

Grieve others have more,

Grieve for your sore.

How long can you grieve?

Even in bed how can you

not see it still rains, it still shines,

The moon, the sun.

Beauty abounds, asking you

to rejoice even at your last breath

How long can you grieve?

Loss of love,

Loss of money,

Loss of fears and worries,

Loss of greed,

Loss of losses.

For you cannot grieve more than

what you live, life goes back,

to what they say normal.

When you get the nature’s call,

When you feel hungry,

When you thirst for more.

What then is grief?

Is it not real?

Is it not true?

What we cannot do forever

Is often untrue.

Love is true

Sometimes, we can love forever.

But grief, is it then true?

For how long would you grieve?

How long would you sit and not see.