Woes Versus Rues VI
It was always kind
To die by your side
But too close to find my blood
Dripping from your guilty hands
I guess I'd rather die
By my own anguished hands
And leave you wondering why
I always leave things behind
poem by Norman Santos
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Be Reborn
Bask in the mire of guilt
and let the vultures surround you,
Dismount the scaffolds of regret,
count the perching crows
and cry with the parliament
From the sanguinary land
open a stone-fleshed hand
and let life reborn
poem by Norman Santos
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Infinity
A coward believes to live infinitely
If he could shun the battlefield.
A valiant believes to live infinitely
If he acquaints the estoque of a worthy nemesis.
A lion believes to live infinitely
Inside his den of fringeless eaves.
poem by Norman Santos
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Transatlanticism
The transatlantic
is just another avenue
that sequesters our reality
but we knew a clandestine door -
a shotgun alley
where we would mangle
to the sharp verity
of this lie
for in the end
of every shotgun
we are doomed
to loneliness
and
goodbyes
poem by Norman Santos
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It Pours
If you can shun
The violent lances
Omnipresent, omniscient,
Beneath the eaves
Of your umbrellas
Why can't you
Avoid avoidance?
You care too much
About the rain
And the uninvited mud,
Why don't you revel
With the downpour
Of catastrophe
Inside your bones?
poem by Norman Santos
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Woes Versus Rues I
"Do not go where I cannot follow."
She said, trembling for my tremors
But I needed to get away
I needed to find my peace
One, two, three, four feet away
I looked back, struggled back,
But the crowd was lost to a place
Where I can no longer follow.
poem by Norman Santos
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Black Epiphany
Teeth rasping the tongues
Devoured by the void
Caroming of the sun
A sordid river run
To gush with an epiphany
That you can shun
Abandonments
And predicaments
By holding the knife
Not from the receiving end
Rather in the hilt
As a criminal
With no chance
Of suicide.
poem by Norman Santos
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13: 00 Predicament
There are songs I'll never sing
And places I would shun
For when the night fell
Unto the prolix limbo
Of timelessness and infinitude
All these memories thawed
Before it amalgamates -
An unjust jeopardy
In this savage world
Of tigers and vultures
Caught in the same trap
poem by Norman Santos
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Lions and Cages
A vacuum lies between the brunt
of the grinding fangs - and here lies
the trepidation like a cold epitaph
waiting to be discovered under
the slumber of the dying autumn grass
because in the stillness of this
nurtured dessication of quintessence
I am a lion and I my own cage.
poem by Norman Santos
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The Cycle
From the void
A ray of light
Tamed the shadow
Its flimsy paws
Stood like a divan
Carrying the burden
To the stars
The coarse skin
Callused with caliginosity
Was stropped
And the dead stone
Was a diamond
That would soon
Learn the demon
That would send
Him groveling
To return
To dusts.
poem by Norman Santos
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