Melancholic Split Second of Doubt

Indistinct noises in the air
Irrelevant pictures everywhere
Burns glow of dramatic flair
Of emotions destined to err
Blatant facts or beautiful fiction
Convincing lies or deceptive truth
Sweltering a sea of confusion
The aftermath: point of moot
Overwhelmed by lethargy
Congested in a rainy day
Establishing the boundaries
Too close but far away.
Burning like an ocean of fire
A subtly dangerous concoction
Can I walk through the wire
Of a thin line connection?

poem by Norman Santos
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The Path I Tread

And I'll walk down a familiar path
With a worn out sole and a heavy heart
I'll dream of amends futilely in the midst
And in your faith tightly cleaves.

Distance stretched you from my silence
In desolation ignite your absence
You're stapled on my wishful thoughts
Etched gravely with iron-wrought.

A fork stuck in the path I tread
I could have never understood, nor judged, nor expected.
Still I endure, but severely loath
And wrote another sad senseless ode.

poem by Norman Santos
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Time After Time

Time flies away, flapping its gossamer wings
like a hummingbird preying for a daffodil
and silently, perch upon its frail stem
and sap its saccharine treacles

Time escapes, running the chasms
with taciturn footsteps and invisibly
palled by shame and fear, I caught
a glimpse of its unwinding remorse

Time drank its vine licorice,
staining its pallid lips red and
the vermillion driplets on its chin
glimmered with a forbidden secret,
enthusing gravity itself

poem by Norman Santos
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Kamay Na Guryon

Ang iyong kamay na tila guryon
humahampas sa alon ng hangin,
sumasayaw nang walang pag-ayon
Sa pakiwari ko ay mahahawakan
mo ang araw ng hindi nasusunog

Ngunit isang ilusyon ang hinahati
ng hugis ng kamay mong maputla,
sa pagitan ng gintong hininga ng araw
at itim na anino ng pagindayog nito

At ang manipis na hibla ng guryon
ang tanging nagdudugtong sa ilusyon
at sa katotohanan na pinunlaan
ng apuhap na hangin ng pag-asa
at mahinay na paghatak ng ala-ala

poem by Norman Santos
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Norman

Semantics nominated by the Teuton.
A prayer to saints and hypocrites
Idiosyncrasy denounced by the faithless
I shall meditate upon my name.

A sound resonating the mediocrities
A noise possessing the peculiarities
An arbitrator of bipolarities
I shall meditate upon my name.

In desolation, in defeat, in confusion
In delight, in bliss, in ebullience.
Signature affixed of pride and ego
I shall meditate upon my name.

"Norman, adj., Teut., Hopeful"

poem by Norman Santos
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Unfinished Poem

In this unfinished poem
your empty stares
still lingers to pillage
every mellifluous words
and the superfluous revelries
malingered on its way
to be spewed and
to pierce the veil

And the memories,
they osculate to brew
the bitterness that shall
wear out the young bones
that remember every shudder
of your melancholia

The persiennes remained
shut down and afraid
and I can never pull them up;
this will be the crowded room

[...] Read more

poem by Norman Santos
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Equinox

As I stand before you the picture gets clearer;
Clear as the dermis of the sun perching aloft
The hands of clock would fritter away
Your incinerating flame would freeze
And scrape my skin into films
Light will cease out, darkness will cave in
The shadows will envelope territories
But would hang a bloated ball
It would absorb your entity
As I shall waste my own.
Parallel equity, omnipresence.
If I quit your world
Would you be renowned?
Would I live my own?

poem by Norman Santos
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Anxious Anticipation

Calm tranquil blue
The shade of my slumber
Feelings of perfect brew
Smiles from deep somber.
Inside this mystic dream
Are lovely beautiful people
Stirred by the moonbeam
Pervasive like a ripple.
It's just a hazy vision
A surreal painted picture
Figments of my imagination;
False hopes and gestures.
My heart thumping out of rhythm
Dumbfounded from waking
Bellowing call of redeemed
Unstable soul confounding.
I dreamed to be with you people,
Lovely beautiful people.

poem by Norman Santos
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To Where The River Flows

As the gloaming's eyes bashed
I listened for the breath of the living art
A thousand footsteps with no destination
A new parchment of another shifting
I belong with every undulations
While you are the strands of conformity
Lead me to the sun's bassinet
And I shall never cut our tethers -
A flame embraces the heart
To cloak underneath the dark
Every beat thumps an echo
Spoken with every pound
I will not let go, never again
In your company, I will divulge everything.

poem by Norman Santos
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Sentinel

I plucked the brambles
Of the turnpike gates
And stashed them somewhere
Impermeable, deeper
Than any vision
Can ever scamper
And every truancy,
Every missed targets,
Every hapless sighs;
Compensating the ulcer
Of the dying times
Will taut the corona
Swathing my treacherous
Barricades and boring
A myriad of openings
With the grandiose of
A portmanteaux
Where vim would
Seep out eagerly
Rolling a red carpet

[...] Read more

poem by Norman Santos
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