<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=471481" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Saturnalia</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">He picked up his cigarette<br>With his nimble hands<br>And dropped his malaise<br>On his nimbus smile<br>He moored his trepidation<br>Amidst looming trees<br>Sated with voraciousness<br>Gaunt as his mortality<br>They tread a rivulet<br>Of agog prancing fire<br>And picked up his ashes<br>In his sinewy veins<br>And fanned his qualms<br>In a tacit realm</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He plucked out a thorn<br>Riveted in his rib cage<br>And stomped on the fertility<br>Of the garden in his hands<br>Unsullied but squalid<br>Lanterns in blossom<br>While its tangled roots finagled<br>With the cajoles of the heart<br>The saturnine seethes of flame<br>Tingled the oceanic eyes <br>And he picked up his glass<br>And drank its serrations<br>He swathed his bleeding tongue<br>With a rasping sedation</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He picked up the moon<br>Fallen from the night <br>He cried for its unrivaled doom<br>And the mirroring blight <br>He plied the gossamer<br>And the desiccation of the sea<br>But he never grew pale<br>So he picked up a star<br>To hung a chandelier <br>And flicked on the light<br>Of a transient thrill<br>Denying oblivion's shrill <br>In a ravine of coiled lynches<br> <br>He picked up himself<br>And squandered it away<br>And there was no fear<br>Just a stark demise</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=471481" data-title="Saturnalia de Norman Santos" data-description="He picked up his cigarette With his nimble hands And dropped his malaise On his nimbus smile He moored his trepidation Amidst looming trees Sated with voraciousness Gaunt as his mortality They tread a rivulet Of agog prancing fire And picked up hi..."></div> </div> </div>

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