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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=471082" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A New Flame for the Old Embers</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The vapid rain breaking upon the quietude<br>of the pebbles under our monastic feet<br>reminds me of the words sent into your halls<br>ricocheting like a phantom's dying plea -<br>futilely emitted from the shy rupture, <br>a premature eruption, to taste the savvy <br>of disappointments and rueful affinities</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How aplomb are the pummeling underneath<br>the weather's veins - blue and sterile as<br>the ethers inflamed inside my nights<br>I fell into a dreamy stupor, loquacious sibilance<br>stings like a razor from the charred memories</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And, through and through, I slide inside <br>the abortive cradle of fire, wondering<br>if the flames invoked by the same embers<br>are alike, or do they dissipate and die<br>when the rain collapses from its slumber<br>and leave remnants of its piquant touch to<br> give birth to another ocean of soldering mirages</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In this horizontal vertigo of water and flame, <br>I instill enigmas into the interpolating leaves<br>and some other night, under a new moon<br>I would ruminate awake and bleared: to what <br>these soughing violins of the trees demand? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Like a thunder whetted by the extremities<br>of temperature, I hoard all these injuries<br>and soon would my sun reveal its horns<br>and the superfluous flames it had hatched<br>from the brooding upon atrophied ties<br>Because for now, I can only live inside<br>the chrysalis of the mind, cicatrizing<br>the salted wounds and dabbing the <br>beautiful smears that I shall nurture <br>to make wings of vanity and, here<br>I shall dream of flitting back unto<br>your cavernous firmament like <br>a defunct chandelier swooning for<br>your flamboyant palettes, and dream<br>I shall, until the colors subside and dissolve <br>into my fastidious realizations<br>of lacquered flames prancing<br>above these cold ancient coals.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Norman+Santos">Norman Santos</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=471082" data-title="A New Flame for the Old Embers de Norman Santos" data-description="The vapid rain breaking upon the quietude
of the pebbles under our monastic feet
reminds me of the words sent into your halls
ricocheting like a phantom's dying plea -
futilely emitted from the shy rupture, 
a premature eruption, to taste the savv..."></div>
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