Do I love you?
Do I,
Love...?

The words have stopped
doubled over on themselves
in pain
unrecognized

In truth
I wouldn't know--
you, Love?
But maybe from a picture
thinking--
"This is from where the poems come?"

Having never searched your eyes
with mine
nor heard your voice
invoke me

Known your thinking
in any given moment
Nor you, mine

Nor watched your hands
for hints
endear
affection
in expressions

Could you forgive my mess of moments?
the lame that years have left
so slow circles
the lonely artless?

socially inept

I fear
you could not forgive the fear
for so long
left behind

How can you say
you love me?

By what assurance do you

Speak into my void

Last October, I deleted my FB account
just to satisfy my curiosity
how my days will be without it.
will I be tagged a Cave-man
or called the anti-social guy
or some pretentious snob
who wants to stand out in the crowd...

The first couple of weeks were tough
and I craved for that juicy stuff
and every time I opened my browser
my fingers would press "F" FIRST

In the first week of November
I wrote my first poem
not because I was feeling like a poet
but I had to channelize my focus
away from the topics, my friends discussed
all the memes that were flooding
the Viral videos that made them laugh a lot

On one cold night, when
I think the moon was bright
or maybe I was too high on ***
I googled "Start a poet's blog"
and I came across "Hello Poetry"
I am sure my stars were too high on luck

Before I published my first one
I read more than hundreds of them
Some poured them arranged
some had a celestial range
a few "songs for their lover"
some stories of "How it got over"
Many of these brilliant minds
have derived out a way
to tackle depression
and suicidal cravings
through rhymes and words
I felt this is one of the best
support group in the world.

The best of all, I was overwhelmed with joy
when I ran through the comments
and I discover this blessed group of people
who actually  cared about your plight
they shared their own stories
and assure you with sublime affection
that "you are not alone going through this"

This is more than just a poetry blog
It is a whole new universe
where the thoughts are profound
and your feelings really count
no matter how filthy it is
when you write them here,
It takes the form of fertile ground.

And this is home for some of us
who find the world too distorted
but cannot let their "waves" go free
for they fear for the judgment
and the social decree
or the worst of them all
fear to be transported to some
asylum for behaving like a "Lunatic"

Till time takes a turn
and normal is "the real truth" again
I will make this place my nest
and let all my chaotic vibrations
get settled and be ready to harvest.....

Another love poem? I ask myself.

She's a red streak
where the waves froth her feet white
a girl scouring the sands for shells
in the ageless haze the sea spews
bending and rising like the doubt
if time by some quirk has stopped
and the slanting beach is that warped space
where for long has homed
all the free souls of the world
love being their only name.

I walk up to her richer
by another love poem.