The headline read:
“Hate crimes against gay people rockets
In the UK”
Today.
Incomprehensible
To people who have no prejudice.
But I see prejudice
Everywhere.
I see it in people I love.
Who say they love me.
This need, to be accepted
By a society,
A society, that says, it is
Civilised.
A civilisation that doesn’t accept
Love.
We get caught up,
To be civil, to love?
The more one loves,
The more one hates.
I do not wish to be civil
And correct,
If loving is wrong.
Love begins with such tenderness –
Even the tears are made of joy!
What wonder it holds in that time,
Oh, what magic it does employ!
The many things that irks love now
Were what held away all its fears.
Who could truly know that sadness
Would supercede past joy in tears?
Each twist in the body was seen,
As some Grecian statue of old;
Now twists are seen with angst and pain
And addressed with manners so cold.
Love glimmered like burnished gold,
When it was young and fresh and new;
But gold doesn’t oxidise with time
And take on shades of green and blue.
Carpe diem, the poets implored,
They chased love and it chased them, too,
This chase has gods fall weary,
Then what the poet, or me or you!
Hubris is a part of all love,
Love declares it rules no ego;
But most of love fades over time,
Under pride and lust’s undertow.
Love, they say, shows its truer form
As it grows with time, some say years,
Some say it lengthens slow or fast
And rebounds truest when death appears.
Love distorts due to other loves,
Experiences are benchmarks here;
Doubt’s a seed people love to sow,
Watered by your own unseasoned fear.
Needless to say, love confuses
All its promises, in the end,
It isn’t love, if fate and time ask
And the imposter agrees to bend.
It’s all a matter of time:
Love evolves into honesty
And the tube light glare
Rips through at some point.
The thing that was once hidden,
Under the guise of empathy,
Lies naked for all to see,
Like a broken body after rape,
Open to the lenses of posterity
And a boggling public
That cranes to see which part
Was most abused.
The need to hide exists no more.
Justice demands sight and hearing.
A lynching is required.
Love is stronger than romance
And it can withstand a slap,
Or two.
Compromise is a grey area.
Love was not the same,
Either for Helen or Mumtaz –
Tom had jumped on a sofa
And after begetting children
Of blood, they say,
It all ended amicably.
I mean, the jumping ended.
I think myself grand enough
To think mine will last.
I shall let the Trojans in though;
Because I love horses.
(That is a different kind of love.)
Hearts Still Care 
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