R Saba: Favorites

Jan 2014 R Saba

Frisk

i am a whirlwind of rain on a hydrophobic world, an angel
of death scraping by like a vulture, picking at skin and bone
and leaving scratches on doors and blood puddles on floors
my blindness is as translucent as a jellyfish's sight, my mind
is shattered, and my memory is coming back slowly, piece by
brittle piece, and the emergency exits are sealed against me
so i travel in concentric circles trying to find a way out of this
labyrinth, only to catch the waters attention and grasp me by
the throat and gag me unconscious, only to see black afterward
i'm living each day through my mistakes, and making up for
it with cold revenge with haphazard patterns, abstract words,
and navigation through uncharted waters where i've drowned
not only everybody else, but myself, in this complete denial

- kra

Jan 2014 R Saba

Peter Pan Park

Jan 2014 R Saba

TDN

Peter Pan Park

I recall the rustic leaves,
and the sound they made when crushed
under skateboard wheels,
as they settled around the half-pipe
and the worn rails of Peter Pan Park.

Youngsters,
with their colorful helmets and their
better-safe-than-sorry knee pads,
kicked and pushed their way across the pavement
and pumped their fists in the air
as their boards reached the other side.
In this Neverland, the kids wanted adventure first -
the tea could wait at home for a little longer.

But, as dusk settles,
the pirates emerge upon the asphalt shores
in fleets of tinted windows and loud exhausts.
These pirates, still adolescent in their own age,
bicker and fight until a hook pierces skin,
blood spills upon the crisp leaves,
and a boy - with naiveness still glistening in his eyes -
becomes another boy who would not grow up
in the Never Never of Peter Pan Park.

Jan 2014 R Saba

A poem for each of my friends

Jan 2014 R Saba

Aarya

A poem for each of my friends

i.
you're lazy
and no one knows why
but there is still no one else
who can make me
laugh as hard
as you do

ii.
we met on accident
and you proved the unimaginable for me
oh what i wouldn't do to save you

iii.
i've never cried for a friend
as much as i have for you
you are so lovely
and i wish you were still here

iv.
i think you're the first typical best friend
i've ever had
everything
will be an adventure with you

v.
i once said
you put me in a phase
and you still do
thank you
for letting me think that you care

vi.
i love all your musical similes and metaphors
you're the only one i know who does that
you are really such a beautiful person
please don't ever change

vii.
we don't really talk as much
but you'll never know how happy it makes me
when you still get excited when we meet
i really hope you're doing okay

viii.
you really crack me up
when you tell me your future plans
about being a stripper
you are so much better than you think you are

ix.
you are so far away
but im still looking forward to the day
you open that restaurant
and watching criminal minds with you

x.
i don't really consider you a friend
but thanks anyway

xi.
i'll never forget when you just sat with me
in the middle of the quad
with my ice cream
and we talked and laughed about nothing
and everyone was looking at us
because there were empty tables around us
but we sat on the floor instead

xii.
i saved you for last
because i honestly don't know what to say
other than
you mean everything
your head isn't in the right place
but then again thats just me
because i think so highly of you

Jan 2014 R Saba

Amputation

Jan 2014 R Saba

Reece AJ Chambers

Amputation

Like the loss of a limb
or a missing *****,
whether an arm, kidney
or half of a heart.

Every bone numbed,
laden with pins and needles,
every puppet-like move
languid, free of joy.

Hoping for a letter,
brandy to spike your mood,
but for now it’s Yeats on the moors
as you long for your wife.

Written: January 2014.
Explanation: A poem that is likely to be part of my third-year university dissertation regarding Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes. In a letter to his wife dated 3rd October 1956, Hughes claims 'It's true how you feel amputated in some way ... I sit around in a daze of shock...' in reference to how he wishes his wife were still around (SP was in Cambridge, while TH was in Yorkshire.)