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Edmund Ashley Jan 2019
Is it?
What do you think? Is it?
Have you felt it is?
Do you really think it is?

How do you know love?
Does it have it highs and lows?
Does been in it feel like a law?
Does its dark side appear white as snow?

What distinguishes it?
Few times down other times lit?
I thought it was always in high spirit?
Why now do I feel I have to desist?

Is it same as infatuation?
Where it goes away after you've achieved love action?
And all your sweet ideas become sour notions?
And thoughts of the other exits your attention?

Yes. Maybe its infatuation.
Love sparks that light but fades with wiggly motions,
When one stops trying because you're no more an exception,
The little silly things you do become "expensive inactions" .

It hurts badly,
Sadly your undoubtedly not feel it rightly,
From the start that love wounds, you pretend nicely,
That you both can take it lightly.

But it hurts, with time when the usual things are no more,
When the long night bare no talk,
Sleepless nights come back as they were at first afterall,
You miss someone badly, but misses only harp in thoughts.

Maybe its not love.
Maybe you stopped trying
Maybe you aren't telling your honest feelings
Maybe you're making it difficult to be loved
Maybe you don't want to be loved

Maybe hear says have dimmed your love
Maybe you aren't too sure
Maybe you feel this love won't go anywhere
Maybe you feel you're not good enough to be loved.
Maybe you feel its not true love.

Is love difficult?
It takes time to know.
Its like a sling stone thrown,
It takes time to be known.

Genuine love finds you when you do things right.
Maybe today, tomorrow or someday,
When things are right, Love's not difficult,
It'll find you. You'll feel it Right.
Edmund Ashley Jan 2019
Its Love I'm not sure of

People and places,
Life's got its own races,
Good or bad, life gives chances,
Mine with you, never noncoincidence.

Things happen for a reason maybe,
But with time I just knew you'll be,
Something I've envisaged for thee,
A partner for who you'd be.

Many things go for a sight to heart,
Yours did for a hair at that,
My preferences subdue to that,
Yours worked on me like a ****.

I'm indulged,
I babble over thoughts of us, I overindulge,
Man up I say, as affections bulge,
To a lone night of clean "thoughts with no smudge".

Oblivious to a public scene,
I make my first words seen,
Chivalrously I ask "to be seen",
Optimistic of a positive answer forseen.

You shrunk my optimism,
Hallucinated my pessimism,
With thoughts if I'd pulled a solecism,
Thoughts that rhyme with barbarism.

A turn off? I thought less,
My heart taught me to care less,
And to mind less,
Cause you'd still "come first".

Trust your heart,
guard the parts,
It assumes the innermost thoughts of both paths,
And coerces the being to act.

You trusted your heart,
Guarded the parts,
Your were coerced to find my path,
I was happy to have you back.

It all goes good,
Feels like hunger found food,
Thoughts drain like words in a big book,
Out like a baby, 9 out of the womb.

Loves in the obscure,
Not too bright to be lured,
Maybe its too early to sense pure,
What about...we're just not sure?

Conversations glitter,
Feels better than never,
We found ourselves, 'cause we talk better,
All nights, its ours to getter.

But wait, I'd assume time rather hop's,
With that, we can account for times we never talk,
When daft blue ticks are the norm,
Emoji replies bare the nigh-dialogue.

You initially thought we had something,
I did think so too, same thing,
But we look lost, close to nothing,
Maybe we aren't doing the necessary "fighting".

For a while its lost,
We're gone, for short!
Maybe we should have taken a shot,
To keep our life span for talks not short.

But things fall apart,
Maybe only when Achibe laughs,
But life has its own true paths,
Maybe for who compulsorily have to cross paths.

Little fires spark a big flame, indeed,
Maybe we realise we both are in need,
Of each others warm needs,
Maybe were both tired of a boring deed.

Lets rekindle us. A date?
Sounds good. It definitely deserves the wait,
Love talk, you'd guess, or? lets not exaggerate,
The day schedules a good date.

Alas, she's late, but its queen,
She deserves the big scene,
With a nice dress in green,
She'll pass as my queen.

Fun food time goes quintessential,
Night time in urban city? Cinema is essential,
Got us dazzling with thoughts of us not in denial,
Possible lovers? we did the conventional.

Cozy moments, things get sweet,
You'd actually feel love's heat,
It burns, rather internally in the heart,
Its an affection you'd never want to thwart.

Trigger triggers, what's triggered?
Ardour, lust, infatuation, love fad, love, what's desired?
Passion grows for each other, both admired,
Actions? Long talks no one gets tired.

Do you call it sudden love, lust, infatuation?
The words are lost find one with a good definition,
Feels are strong and great, feels like never diminishing,
But experience says, its love I'm not sure of, finishing.
The poem talks primarily of an unsure love I have for someone. I narrated poetically how we met, and how things have gone since. Up and down. Wasn't a strong bond even tho we both had a crush, but it recently and suddenly has become an inevitable affair and you'd ask? Is it love? Well I'm still not sure of.

Some stanzas explained.
"Many things go for a sight to heart,
Yours did for a hair at that,
My preferences subdue to that,
Yours worked on me like a ****." - I basically meant her nice Afro was what influenced my crush on her. I like Afro hair a lot.

"
Oblivious to a public scene,
I make my first words seen,
Chivalrously I ask "to be seen",
Optimistic of a positive answer forseen." - In a full class I go to her and ask for her number, hoping she'd give me.

"You shrunk my optimism,
Hallucinated my pessimism,
With thoughts if I'd pulled a solecism,
Thoughts that rhyme with barbarism." - My bad she didn't.

"You trusted your heart,
Guarded the parts,
Your were coerced to find my path,
I was happy to have you back." - She later took my number from a friend and texted me.

"But wait, I'd assume time rather hop's,
With that, we can account for times we never talk,
When daft blue ticks are the norm,
Emoji replies bare the nigh-dialogue." - We stop talking like we used to.

"But things fall apart,
Maybe only when Achibe laughs,
But life has its own true paths,
Maybe for who compulsorily have to cross paths." - I believe things can go wrong. Chinua Achibe is the Auhor of the book "Things fall apart", and on its cover he has this nice smile. So maybe the book's title makes him laugh (smile). And I believe perhaps maybe life thinks we definitely have to get something between us. Even for once.

"Little fires spark a big flame, indeed,
Maybe we realise we both are in need,
Of each others warm needs,
Maybe were both tired of a boring deed." - Our usual texts are "how are you". That's it. But looking at our chats we both do realise we need more than that.

"Lets rekindle us. A date?
Sounds good. It definitely deserves the wait,
Love talk, you'd guess, or ? lets not exaggerate,
The day schedules a good date." - We try and plan a date in one of our conversations.

"Trigger triggers, what's triggered?
Ardour, lust, infatuation, love fad, love, what's desired?
Passion grows for each other, both admired,
Actions? Long talks no one gets tired." - Something's changed! After the date! Its so intense you wouldn't know what it is. Is it us?


And as a thinking boy, its headache - A "love I'm not sure of"......
Edmund Ashley Jan 2019
People are different
But there's something that blinds the differences.
Love!

People can be difficult,
But there's a thing that makes each accommodating.
Love!

People can lose it all.
But something causes them to smile.
Love!

We aren't the same, we have differences,
We have our own way, we can be difficult,
We have our little faults, it makes us lose it.

Would you bury what we have for a little hurdle?
What's your worry?
Talk hunny, Talk.

Would you "act to quit" because you feel something is wrong?
Why not discuss it?
Talk baby, Talk.

Love strives the hurdle, that's when you know its real.
Love's us to battle, because the genuine always wins.
Love's you to be free, because it pays to be true to yourself.

Mind readers don't love, they read minds,
Our imperfections could make us a better bind,
Until we say our innermost feelings, love's blind.

So Talk, hunny, Talk!

— The End —