Norman F. Santos Poems

Untainted bliss
Infinite ebullience
There are no words
To convey happiness
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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
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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
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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.
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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.
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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-
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Once upon a time.
A picturesque blur of line
An etude cradling every night
Laced in the line of silver light
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Calm tranquil blue
The shade of my slumber
Feelings of perfect brew
Smiles from deep somber.
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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
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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
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