Acid Aches

by Saberi Roy

did I see your eyes, your dust coloured
velvety gaze future born
hidden in blue sultry smoke?
did I taste your lips, the heavy pink
rhyme showing tomato
crevices on earthquake’s mesmerism?
did I touch your hands
your hairy sonata muscles
breathing through salsa moves
of demure toes?
did I kiss your ears
like ridges on a planet lost in the dreams
a bit red with sugary heat….?

my acid aches bit you through
as you sat sequined on my loveclothes

your navel pricked in rainbow colours
my blood stopped in drops
did you feel my heart though
my throbbing moonlight song
beating the winds cracking open
the lids of vesper smokes and ashes
kissing your river veins

it was that glued ribbony love
through a corpsed eye smell of empty skins
or flowers on broken ribs jelly dipped.

 

 
Copyright - Saberi Roy, December, 2007

Sacred

by Saberi Roy

By that midnight, I will look into your eyes

I will trace the dreams with my fingers

I will stare long enough to make you blush,

to see where your soul traverses and

I will follow it through the night.

You will not know,

you will remain asleep

covered in a blanket of dreams

and find me colored among the winds

and while you watch the clouds move,

I’ll be lost among the stars.

I’ll still be watching your lines

 I’ll still be holding

your face in my palm

like a picture framed in shiny gold

and your lips will be a rose in my mouth

a sweet tasting berry

I will drip your soul,

I will enter midnight through you,

through your lost eyes

when they close to a distant moon

and you will breathe like a newborn

in that arm of innocence wrapped around

I will not know where I am from

where my footsteps left the marks

and how sand met seas,

whether I was born when we made love.

I will not know how I kissed the ocean apart

thinking that was you and I will not know

how I bathed the sun with your skin

but then by that night,

you will listen to my music,

 like a pond listens to its ripples and

 I will be a flower on the surface of your soul

trying to enter deeper like a diver for a pearl.

I will then split open the curtains,

the windows like an apple cut and

the streams of sunbath

will make you sink in the bed of bubbles,

and you will smile through the morning scent

in our naked love so sacred.

Copyright: Saberi Roy, 2008 (From Chronicles of Desire)

Can we make…….. Love?

Saberi Roy

Ok done. Sunday night, 11 pm. The bus broke on my head
And I lost tickets to my madness when I sat figuring out that the road has elsewhere to go.

The broken hash, the fumbling cursor, my rhymes. I have looked out of the window where roads merged
and diverged like wooded universes warped and I saw my dreams
flying out into the clouds like castles in the wind losing direction for a while.
I was in fact on a journey, a Browning bee of self poetry buzzed the pages

were wrapped in my arms, fondling my sequential moods humming me to sleep.

My eyes never closed though, I was still awake and horny thinking

how people move in and out of honeycombs.
So okay, I was still there, within my torn pages browned and redded

showing me a way or some type of destination through sands, woods, seas,...hell…clouds.

I was screaming my rivers out
rectifying what was meant to happen and what I made happen.
Intentionally, unintentionally, whatever.
Life has its twists through summer roots which I dug out in my hands

and I never pressed the escape key or the F1 to let me be.
My zombie cells were long drawn out, rolled into a thread of existence and

 I was still focusing on how the distant music played without too many recognizable notes.
My nitrogenous breath is still like a breeze reminding me of love letters I’ve never actually written

and I’ve seen people walking up my brain and down my limbs

and I’m still rolling. Ha. This phenomenal life, God breathed me out somehow

into the earth and like a mass of pink I was there savouring noisy bits and pieces of life

 and the distance through which I walked could have tired me out.

A smell of Sartre, a bit of Schopenhauer, combing my goose fleshed skin, balm for my cracked heels.

Then when I’m trying to figure it all out, I stick my head in it,

asking people to let go of what I feel so that I can hold on.

Is it all like skin and bones with no flesh, this damned existence?

Hey did Freud ever cover my naked breasts with his psychoanalytic hands?

So then after all this, this Sunday night…midnight…and….

when the world is still at war....and....

can we make love?

the ruby eyes are
crumbling
lower back smooth as desert
and me hunched like camel

I was drinking your rhymes
I was moonlighting
I was your bed shaped cavern
I was egg in your basket of carrots
I was a box of chocolates

You are my tie
Covering pieces of my skin
like warped snakes
thousand comet tails
drifting in my cerebrum

you sat under my rock
my dreams
dripping mango pulp
and my toes red as lacquer lips

You were throwing wet eyes
You were headphones with wires
You were stretched elastic bands
You were pipes with warm water
You were socks and cigars

you the ice cream vendor
with a ship wrecked body
selling soles for shoes
which I wore
until you pulled out my legs
like sugarcane
and skinned them
the jar broke to spill waters
till I cried.