LOSTĀ 

Lost in hopelessness before we met,

Lost we found each other on the net,
Lost we were in blank togetherness,
Lost in nothingness,
Lost you wander away,
Lost you betray,
Lost I let go of you in sadness,
Lost I snub to take you back in forgiveness;
Lost without each other,
Lost we are forever.

Anita Bacha
Illustration/photography/Anita Bacha 

http://poetryofanitabacha.com/

 
 
 

Words

Words,

Precious psychic words,

Fly me to my love!

Words,

Iridescent,

Powerful, mighty eagles,

Fly me to my love!

Up and above,

Valleys and mountain tops,

Oceans and lands,

Fly me to my love!

Touch him,

Kiss him,

Fondle him,

Squeeze him!

Words,

Awesome,

Divine words,

Fly me to my love!

Pierce his heart,

Conquer his soul,

Possess him,

Enchant him,

Make him my own!

Words,

Infinite,

Invisible atoms of my soul,

Fly me to my love!

Words,

Resounding,

Screeching,

Ejaculating in joyous delight,

Fly me to my love!

Anita BachaĀ©

Excerpt from my book ‘SOUL POETRY-INSPIRATIONAL POEMS, VERSES & QUOTES

 

 

 

IF

IF

If I were a flower for the joy of being a flower,

A leaf for being a leaf;

If I were a stem;

If I were a leaf and a stem to dress up a flower;

If I were a flower that you will place on your heart;

If I were all sleek and purple petals,

Petals to cover the nudity of a flower;

If I were a flower that you will place on your heart;

If I were the eyelids for the delight of being the eyelids,

The lashes for being the lashes;

If I were the eyes;

If I were the eyelids and the lashes to cover your eyes;

If I were a teardrop,

A teardrop running down a cheek,

A teardrop that loses itself in the lips;

If I were the lips that caress a flower;

If I were the lips and you were a flower!

Anita Bacha

Ā 

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The Butterfly and the Rose

He hurried down the hill, the playful butterfly,

Thirsting for his queen, the morning rose;

She turned her face, shunned the fickle lover,

The rose;

Fluttered the butterfly closer,

Tenderly to woo the rose,

Beg for mercy,

To caress once more her silken blossom,

Languorously to cradle in her folds;

Aloof she stood in the rising sun, the rose;

In the vanity of her solitude,

Frigid, in the pervasive warmth that arose,

Naked, deceived and betrayed,

Indignant by the deep humiliation,

The Queen of flowers, the rose!

Her magnificent crimson petals, she had shed,

Her strong, splendid green leaves had fallen,

Her sharp, shielding thorns were gone,

Lost in the wilderness her alluring perfume;

One time the butterfly stroke her,

Forever he touched her soul!

Anita Bacha

http://poetryofanitabacha.com/

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I DANCE IN ECSTASY

A poem inspired by the Sega dancers of Mauritius. Originally the Sega dance was performed by enslaves around a bonfire to spend their lonely nights and to protest against injustices. The Sega is sung in the local dialect, Creole, and the musical instruments, the most popular being the ā€˜ravanneā€™ and the ā€˜triangleā€™ are made locally. In our time, a tourist entertainment, the Sega is danced by all.

I DANCE IN ECSTASY

Intoxicated with the elixir of love,

My head spins with the fiery beats of the tropical drums,

As my body swirls and whirls with the rhythmic vibes

The burning sand scorching the sole of my feet,

I dance and I dance in ecstasy!

Imbued with passion, my heart soars high above,

Like a shooting star in broad day light

Falls back in the blue lagoon with candid delight

I dance and I dance in ecstasy!

Shrouded in a mist of mirage,

In the horizon I see your image.

In frantic folly I run to tenderly hold youā€¦

The mystic drums stop me,

The enchanting melody beckons me,

Lifts me up and invigorates me,

Fills my soul with bursting fantasy

I dance and I dance in ecstasy!

Anita Bacha

http://poetryofanitabacha.com/