Norman F. Santos

Norman F. Santos Poems

Untainted bliss
Infinite ebullience
There are no words
To convey happiness
...

Incongruous creeper of star crossed fate
Muted dreamer with a living to tolerate
Swanking too compensate the lack of luster
A sycophantic wish delivering a note of disaster
...

Time is bound in a spell tongue-tied
Prance and wince like the ocean’s tide
And ebb back into the waterfront
At the time you’re eschewed most
...

And he was a man with revealing sylvan eyes.
Sad, wandering, eager-eyes swathed with sagacity.
Coy he was, like an eagle in the wild; avert but suspicious.
He is not a child, but he is less than a man.
...

Cold tiles mock my motionlessness
And the lashing ambers wavering in tempo.
Frost mourn crawls up with the misery
Knocking me tarnished a vacant chasm.
...

For every query, a sedative truth
Supercilious codes downhill the roots
Surreptitious cards no eyes can muse
Of one gambit too bare for this ruse-
...

Once upon a time.
A picturesque blur of line
An etude cradling every night
Laced in the line of silver light
...

Calm tranquil blue
The shade of my slumber
Feelings of perfect brew
Smiles from deep somber.
...

His voice –a hissing warmth in the atmosphere
A violent warmth searing with a covert scheme
His eyes –thick and black like oil, combustible
Piercing with stern vigilance, probing with scrutiny
...

Under a rubber tree and her spangling hair
Beneath her canopy and the aberrant flair
A cavalcade of lambent orbs in an aerial parade
The Mardi Gras drifted shambling in a masquerade
...

A Goddess she was, skirting the town with her presence
Her lunatic glow clearly forebodes beams of liberation
An opaque light: a stark sublimation of sterile illumination
It struck his thin fringes as he had clandestinely wished
...

At the bottom of a tarnished trench;
A pit of rejection, but a kingdom to most
An amorphous tyrant flagrantly confound
Of nefarious sorcery on every soul
...

Embolden the soul with the virility
Found in no beasts, but in divinity
The prize bequeathed by Mnemosyne
The grandeurs and horrors to humanity
...

In a moribund day reigned by an empathetic sun
Serendipity lingered amongst ghosts withholding scant
Fluid hands pale as the toppling films of the sun’s corona
Flimsy hands shackled in a culvert; a deceitful supernova
...

Pacing down a string of deceit
Strings that conceal attachments
I wonder how tangled I weave
Sunken deep in this resentment
...

Wide open sea, bludgeon my grand flee
To where the beast would sing to me
Debonairly and treacherously the riddle
That shrinks one mind to gamble and fiddle
...

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
...

There’s a storm brewing,
And a moth in the ceiling
And there’s a man blatantly rusting
Encrusting with cobwebs, chipped and jagged
...

Dangling by the ceiling these moths
Such lackluster but can never abort
Eternity that these starlights behold
Let it go, take flight, let it all unfold
...

When the crimson corona anchored itself flimsily
On the gnashing teeth of the chipped horizon and duly
Propose a solemn banquet in the expanding firmament
For the nocturnal vagabonds flagellated by no retirement
...

Norman F. Santos Biography

The fundamentally sentimental. Confessional poetry and black comedy.)

The Best Poem Of Norman F. Santos

One For The Road

Untainted bliss
Infinite ebullience
There are no words
To convey happiness
The mirth brimming
In our half-full goblet
And half-empty eyes
I have never been clearer
To anybody’s eyes
I never had words
I never possessed one
But with sealed lips
And bolted spirit
You offered your arms
Persistently you
Dwelled in my feigned hue
Of darkness and nonchalance
I would never know why
You painted an allegiance
In colors, in shades
Of doubles-sided blades
Sharing pains
And likewise hate
In sympathy and empathy
I have never been
In naked honesty
Our vessels
And our goblets
I’ll have one for the road
Or two if I could
Keep one night in my head
In my sleep and in my wake
I shall remember you
Golden chains
I will carry you.

Norman F. Santos Comments

Ranjan Kumar Ghosh 19 September 2017

Very lovely and heartly your poem

0 0 Reply
Daniel Einstein 18 September 2012

I would like to know what poem wings to your ears and shakes your heart, every poet has in their mind the poem can you tell me your poem? !

5 0 Reply
Windsor Guadalupe Jr. 25 December 2011

You are the epitome of secrets. The true connoisseur of concealment. Such a great conquest to descry what lies behind each verse. You are the flame that ignites the derelicts.

16 5 Reply
Paul Brookes 23 December 2011

A flaming arrow to the heart of endless reality and the blood of life and religion. Great imagery and so lyrical loved it. Paul.

18 2 Reply

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