Sundered Crags Poem by Norman F. Santos

With the sun obliquely gliding between your dusk
Raising its head to cast shadows over ivory tusks
Gnawing with stale porcelains and phantasms
At the bottom of the swelling sundered chasms
I ponder blindly on its clinging bite and dying graze:
“Can I fill in the gaps and caress the space? ”

Between these sundered crags are four arctic seas
Calm with gargantuan serpents and deceitful harpies
Withholding fathoms and speculations of galaxies
Interlaced with a cordial invitation in garrulity
The penumbra of the aqueous mirror cannot conceal
From skyscraping crags no hands can reel

Unfathomable oceans, too dense to stifle
Can you cajole with the angry lips of a rifle
Where callow cesspools of undying pits
Is a goblet of fallen stars and potential fleets
I lunge in imperceptibly in its glacial skin
Purged with another wish, unknowing and asinine

Lofty towers, looming and faltering pensively
A treasure trove reverberating ballads mockingly
Stroke with safeguarding veil and clasp the dell
Divide the abysmal seas into laudable great parcels
Ineffable heights marred with profound depths,
A nativity to volition to consort these aloft clefts

Sundered crevasses, will you hold me?
And speak with me in language of contingencies
Salient oceans, will your tides take me?
Without caravels, or oars, or impulsivity
So will you seize my wish and build with me
Another yet impasse in a utopic society?