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 Bacha©

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

 

 

 

THE MANGO SEASON

I think of you all the time,

But I think of you more in the mango season;
I think of you when I eat ripe mangoes,
Peeled with a sharp knife,
Sliced, mixed with raw sea salt and fresh red chilies,
Like you eat ripe mangoes in Ceylon;

I think of your visit every mango season,
My thrill when you arrived at the airport,
The unleashed love in your hugs,
The gifts of delicacies and fine lingerie,
And you, my obsession,
And your panic attacks, your bouts of depression,
Your tears and your snorts;
I’d cook for you, I’d brew your tea, and I’d warm water for your bath,
I was so overwhelmed to have you in the mango season,
Every ripe mango was a feast too juicy,
Every moment, an eternity,
A promise of unbound happiness,
Counting the days deemed pointless;

When you confessed your love for my best friend,
The mango season crashed to an end,
We’d roll over the top of mango trees,
We’d swim in a punch of thick, sticky mango sap,
We’d come out naked and sad,
As you walked away from me, my hand you forego,
I loved you so much; I had to let you go;

I wait for the mango season every year,
I wait for memories that linger,
For ripe mangoes as sweet as love and petting,
Added salt and chili sarcastically begetting
Grief and pain,
Corollaries of an amorous adventure again
Anita Bacha

http://poetryofanitabacha.com/

ON THE QUAY OF FAREWELL

On the quay of farewell,

In a covetous embrace

You gave me your heart;

On the quay of farewell,

You wiped my tears with your lips,

You offered me your eyes;

On the quay of farewell,

You spoke to me about your suffering,

You wanted my mouth to feel your fading breath;

On the quay of farewell,

You wanted me to remember your desires,

Your thirst and your hunger in-satiate;

On the quay of farewell,

You fumbled for the tenderness and sweetness that are in me,

That you will never find in another;

On the quay of farewell,

You hugged me tight in your arms,

You wanted to keep me forever;

On the quay of farewell,

Heavy as a winter coat,

The separation bent you into two

And,

You shouted my name ‘Ani!’

Anita Bacha

http://poetryofanitabacha.com/

 

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INK

Inspired by Manache Poetry’s Next Awakening, I have written the second and last half of this poem.

The first half was complete but followed a systematic writer’s ( or lover’s) block. One sentence “do not let go of my hand” was all I needed to dip the nib of my pen in the ink pot of the vast ocean of  Love and write…

INK

In chaos, my world collapses,

My pen drops,

A wound on my ring finger,

Betrayed …

By my sister,

An ironic wasteland is my heart,

Dumped …

Love loses its eulogy,

Fragmented…

In a puzzle chemistry,

Poets run out of verses

Tumbled…

Face down in infamy;

Suddenly,

Loose petals of words,

Fall in cascades,

Cover my lifeless body,

Awakened…

From the torpor

Of self imposed penalty,

Wet…

Under the mosquito net,

Stained…

My bed linen,

With ink from your pen !

Anita Bacha

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CONNAISSANCE CARNALE SOUS UN RIDEAU DE LA LUNE

Le vent a l’air salin

Fait fondre les cœurs,

Corps tremblants de l’art,

Essayant de faire une paire,

Les mains et les doigts caressent,

Chantent l’amour des vagues de la mer,

Les mélodies de ton gémissement,

Le clair de lune montant sur ton corps

Fait briller des belles caresses,

Derrière un écran d’argent de la nature

Debout, on se remorque, on s’étreigne.

Aussi longtemps que la nuit est en garde

Nous faisons l’amour de la ferveur

Laissez la lune verser sa douche

Nous serons humides partout

Avec les gouttes de notre plaisir.

 

Anita Bacha

(  ‘CARNAL KNOWLEDGE UNDER THE MOON’S CURTAIN BY MARTIAN TRANSLATED)

https://martianpoesy.wordpress.com/2016/10/10/carnal-knowledge-under-moons-curtain/