<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=471464" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Redundancy in Abundance</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Exuding eloquent dismal<br>Over the trickling perspirations<br>Of exhausting redundancy<br>Is but amassing more to credence<br>In the thicket of its abundance<br>I'd rather hold my breath<br>In a hiatus.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For one, the searing streets<br>Is full of stray cats making slinky love<br>With the baleful rake of amour<br>And their hoarse caterwauls<br>Disembogue the quintessence<br>That sex became overrated<br>And love dissipated<br>In the grazing of tongues<br>And bracing of flesh.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And there's the lubricated<br>Lubricous gears of the tethered clock<br>That never sojourn for a migraine, <br>Never sway slowly for a holiday, <br>And we pounce with it<br>Every goddamned day, <br>Impenitently hating the pace<br>Of every goddamned days! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I have seen a poet<br>Write about anything every time<br>Like the Asian snowflakes <br>That he'd never seen<br>Metaphysically or otherwise, <br>And efface the pedagogy<br>In the art of poetry<br>With depth and significance.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And there's a loneliness<br>That drove a man<br>To eat in the banquet<br>Of diurnal redundancy<br>Pretending to watch the T.V., <br>Dwelling in a pseudo-revelry, <br>Clipping wings and depleting songs<br>Like a caged canary.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There is an impasse<br>In the chambers of the heart<br>That you held in your arms<br>With profane vigilance<br>That makes you wonder: <br>If a heart can still break<br>When it is already dead? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And all these redundancies<br>All these follies<br>Abates our pillars<br>And the fountain<br>Where we reel in<br>The gilded virtues of existence.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Do you know the remedy<br>Of the loathsome redundancy? <br>There is none.<br>The disease is inflected upon<br>The brittle bones of the soul<br>That would throb scathingly<br>Yonder your disintegration.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Redundancy is not a phenomena<br>That the gods had schemed<br>Like the symmetries of tragedies, <br>It is but a perspective, <br>Essentially, a lost corrupted perspective.</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> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=471464" data-title="Redundancy in Abundance de Norman Santos" data-description="Exuding eloquent dismal Over the trickling perspirations Of exhausting redundancy Is but amassing more to credence In the thicket of its abundance I'd rather hold my breath In a hiatus. For one, the searing streets Is full of stray cats making sl..."></div> </div> </div>

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