Rhyming with you

It’s better when things rhyme and I seem to rhyme with you.
This psychic something that we have is something too good to be true.

We don’t finish each others sentences, we speak perfectly in sync.
We feel each other’s feelings despite not knowing what we think.

It sounds like it should work well and it works out when we do
But when we can’t work out what’s not working out, we both just get confused.

Sometimes it’s almost eerie because we know it must be fate
And it’s harder to accept because we’ve known since our first date.

I know I’m feeling scared, so I know that you are too,
But I’m sure if we keep rhyming we can find our own way through.

In all of this emotion we might drive each other nuts
So let’s enjoy being distracted when we see each other’s butts.

Bad Poetry Saba · Rhyming With You

[07/06/21]

Cruel fullness of the moon

The cruel fullness of the moon
Illuminated her dwindled self in silvery riverside reflections.
She struggled to recognise this new watery self,
Thinned and indistinct.

She felt something beneath the surface.
Invisible and ineffable
But to her profound and permanent.

And she stood lonely.
Watching pretty shimmers dissipate,
Overwhelmed by little ripples.

In acceptance,
She let herself slip into the total eclipse
Of black water in black night.
Extinguished in the damp.

Bad Poetry Saba · Cruel Fullness Of The Moon

[23/10/19]

Ice sculpture

Sculpted from ice.
You touch me;
Shiver,
Recoil,
Reattempt.

Burn us both with your affectation of affection.
Warm flesh frostbit by my glacial edifice.

The momentary stayingness of your fingerprint to me.
You peel yourself away and I weep;
A single tear runs over my glassy sheen.
I melt,
In the intensity of this love.

This painful love
Scorches me to steam
And I begin to disappear.
Your most delicate breath
Breaks me
Into cold perspiration.
I puddle on the floor.
Wasting away in bright, burning love.
The glare is blinding.

I drip
Drip
Drip.
Melting.
Waiting to fracture entirely.
Knowing it’s inevitable.

Bad Poetry Saba · Ice Sculpture

[01/12/2020]

Dreamt him dead

I dreamt him dead.
Dreamt him into non-existence;
To his final resting place.

Imagined myself at his funeral–
Sobbing,
Distraught–
For one last time.
And him, finally at peace.

He always said he wanted to die.

I watched him unravel,
Desperately trying to catch the threads
Of navy sweaters.
I watched him unravel.
Spiral further away from me
Into his own little labyrinth.

Little dark one.

I dreamt him dead, with a smile on his face.
A smile I hadn’t seen in so long.
Finally there’s an end
And I have something
To grieve.

But I wake from the dream,
Him beside me.
The soft rise and fall of breath
In easy, quiet sleep.
I suffocate sobs of guilt,
Smother myself asleep again.

I wake up red-eyed in the morning.
He always wakes up angry.

Bad Poetry Saba · Dreamt Him Dead

[01/12/2020]

Zombies

Don’t sweat the big stuff

Don’t sweat the big stuff.
It’s probably fine and you’re doing fine.
You’re probably doing better than fine.
You’re probably doing great.
Even if it doesn’t feel fine–
It’s fine.
Don’t sweat the big stuff.
Don’t sweat the small stuff either.
But the big stuff?–
No, definitely don’t sweat that.

Where do all the squirrels go?

Where do all the squirrels go?
Do they sleep in beds?
Do they nest up in the trees
Where leaves protect their heads?
Do they hide near river banks
And burrow in the mud?
Do they hunker down in caves
With campfires made of wood?

I don’t know where the squirrels go
But I hope that they are well.
I hope that they feel safe and warm
Throughout this chilly spell.

14/07/20

Your words are perfect spheres,
Like rain on fur,

Unable to permeate
My repellent pelt.

Mongrel-stubborn,
I shake them off.

The living-room carpet gets stained.

Two cats

Two cats play piano;
Soft paws on ivory keys
Stumbling into unintentional melodies.
Whiskers tickle thick chords
As hammers hit hard harmonies.

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If you’re enjoying my work, would you consider following me on Twitter because I’d love to share more with you?
Thanks,
Saba

 

09/07/20

Subdued, I resolve:
I must savour you in morsels.

Failing,
I attempt to stem thin red tears
With the gentle graze
Of my serrated edge.