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Before Your Gates

The splendor of the slivered water
entices like a pleading aubade
lost in the myriad of faces
reflecting each other's banality
and enunciating the raw grandeur
the moon descried in your pits
and the treacle in my chasms
deluged like a torrent zephyr
with a halcyon volition to break
before your adamant gates

poem by Norman Santos
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Yalda

Wolves cried for the moon's return
Along with the aubade of the beaus
Beating themselves for their truant muse
But I am not amongst these paramours
And their torrent brawls with oppression
Because in this prolonged dark vesper
You will never be my shattered moon
For you are its very absence -
You are the darkness that enwalls me

And this tryst - a pilfered time
In consummate darkness where everything -
The somnolent sands of time,
The weeping banshee of the yesterday,
The weaving arachnid of the tomorrow,
The city's vindictive rules and calculations,
The prison of the soul, the rhythm of hearts;
Lost their keen eyes in senility
And in this parallel plane
That scarcely comes like the wind
I need not to touch you
For it is enough to know that you
Remained askance in our individual meanders
And that you remained a part of me
Hiding in my gigantic shadows -
An immense night unraveled
By the moon's peripatetic escapade

While these nights are blind we intertwine
In a sea of unreality and fantasy
You are my labyrinth of darkness
That I pleasure to get lost with
With empty hands and a slivered sky
The moon away and somewhere else
I rekindled with you, my darkness;
My nights of stolen moon; my yalda.

poem by Norman Santos
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A White Night

THE land lay deluged by the Moon;
The molten silver of the lake
Shimmered in many a broad lagoon
Between grey isles, whose copse and brake
Lay folded on the water's breast
Like halcyons in a floating nest.

And like a child who trusts in God
When in the dark it lies alone,
Stretched on the aromatic sod
My heart was laid against your own,
Against your heart, which seemed to be
Mine own to all Eternity.

Lapped in illimitable light,
The woods and waters seemed to swoon,
And clouds like angels-winged the night
And slipped away into the Moon,
Lost in that radiant flame above
As we were lapped and lost in love.

poem by Mathilde Blind
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Wallace Ferguson

There at Geneva where Mt. Blanc floated above
The wine-hued lake like a cloud, when a breeze was blown
Out of an empty sky of blue, and the roaring Rhone
Hurried under the bridge through chasms of rock;
And the music along the cafés was part of the splendor
Of dancing water under a torrent of light;
And the purer part of the genius of Jean Rousseau
Was the silent music of all we saw or heard --
There at Geneva, I say, was the rapture less
Because I could not link myself with the I of yore,
When twenty years before I wandered about Spoon River?
Nor remember what I was nor what I felt?
We live in the hour all free of the hours gone by.
Therefore, O soul, if you lose yourself in death,
And wake in some Geneva by some Mt. Blanc,
What do you care if you know not yourself as the you
Who lived and loved in a little corner of earth
Known as Spoon River ages and ages vanished?

poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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One Face

One face in a crowd is hard to find.
One face in that crowd is on my mind.
How can I find the face of one,
The face that to me is like the sun?

Shiny and bright with a radiant glow,
The face that picks me up when I'm low,
Eyes that light up wherever they are
Just like the splendor of an evening star,

Lips that break into the sweetest smile
That lingers for me for the longest while,
Hair that surrounds that face like a frame
That always sets my heart aflame.

I search all the faces but cannot see
The one that means the world to me.
I'm lost. I'm wretched. This should not be.
There are too many faces. I'm lost at sea.

One last glance and to my surprise
There's your face, your smile, your eyes.
The crowd's still there but not for me.
For the face I love is all I see.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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Moon Light

Moon light
Reflecting the wishes
Reflecting the dreams
Reflecting the hopes

Moon light
Shining on the flowers
Shining on the sweet singing birds
Shining on the people of earth

Moon light
Brightening the smiles
Brightening the laughter
Brightening the people

Moon light
All night its reflecting
All night its shining
All night its brightening

Moon light
All night

poem by Echo Moonlight
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Toxic Treacle

The verisimilitude of grandiose
Sprawled in a perfidious repose
On the bassinet of filth
Of infinite clockwork:
A fairytale or drudgery,
And the ephemeral mirth:
Sufficient enough to be grandiosity
Parallel to my atrocious veracity
I need the treacle poison.

I want to touch your face
As everyone else does
But frost bites in your iron mask
Can I graze the quelled sun
Beneath the facile veneer?
Because as much as I despise you
I want your lethal treacle
To meander in my plagued throat
I need the treacle poison.

Because I am so alone
That I hate people for carousing
Whilst I squander in a soliloquy
With my own loneliness
Now abandoning me
As the dawn rouses at four A.M.
And jealousy notched in
In my solitary confinement
I need the treacle poison

I wanted to cradle a poetry
But I never had the facility
I have never been anywhere,
I have never been anyone;
Please, cut the cord of this soliloquy
Because I can be very cold
To my bleak incertitude
Yes, I do abandon myself
For I need the treacle poison.

poem by Norman Santos
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Dark Moon

(words & music by ned miller)
Dark moon, way up high up in the sky
Oh, tell me why, oh tell me why
Youve lost your splendor
Dark moon, what is the cause your life withdraws
Is it because, is it because Ive lost my love
Mortals have dreams of loves perfect schemes
But they dont realize, their love can sometimes bring the
Dark moon, way up high up in the sky
Oh, tell me why, oh tell me why
Youve lost your splendor
Dark moon, what is the cause your life withdraws
Is it because, is it because Ive lost my love
Mortals have dreams of loves perfect schemes
But they dont realize, their love can sometimes bring the
Dark moon, way up high up in the sky
Oh, tell me why, oh tell me why
Youve lost your splendor
Dark moon, what is the cause your life withdraws
Is it because, is it because Ive lost my love
Mortals have dreams of loves perfect schemes
But they dont realize, their love can sometimes bring the
Dark moon, way up high up in the sky
Oh, tell me why, oh tell me why
Youve lost your splendor
Dark moon, what is the cause your life withdraws
Is it because, is it because Ive lost my love
What is the cause your light withdraws
Is it because, is it because Ive lost my love
Dark moon, way up high up in the sky
Oh, tell me why, oh tell me why
Youve lost your splendor
Dark moon, what is the cause your life withdraws
Is it because, is it because Ive lost my love
Mortals have dreams of loves perfect schemes
But they dont realize, their love can sometimes bring the
Dark moon, way up high up in the sky
Oh, tell me why, oh tell me why
Youve lost your splendor
Dark moon, what is the cause your life withdraws
Is it because, is it because Ive lost my love
Mortals have dreams of loves perfect schemes
But they dont realize, their love can sometimes bring the
Dark moon, way up high up in the sky
Oh, tell me why, oh tell me why
Youve lost your splendor
Dark moon, what is the cause your life withdraws
Is it because, is it because Ive lost my love
Mortals have dreams of loves perfect schemes
But they dont realize, their love can sometimes bring the
Dark moon, way up high up in the sky
Oh, tell me why, oh tell me why
Youve lost your splendor
Dark moon, what is the cause your life withdraws
Is it because, is it because Ive lost my love
What is the cause your light withdraws
Is it because, is it because Ive lost my love

song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Green

Ripped by hate, torn by my heart -
Tears the hole in my chest, slivered by the thorns -
I cried my best, tears lost to the dunes -
Beauty lies in the sands, true by treasure -
Wonderfull by sight, worth far less -
Beauty does not shine, in the eye of a diamond -
I will rather spade my grave, to rake your gold plated faces -
What is destroyed, from above to beyond -
Can never be replaced, useless, lost to the case -
The one you green with promises to save

poem by Unic Cjonr
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Bike Ride

Like a vine him entwined,
While the bike rushed.
More speed; tighter hugged:
A ride ecstatic.
The bike roared and jolted
With the thrill never experienced.

Small pits on the road did
Jerk them with the bike.
Rain water in pits the bike
Beautifully splashed.
Very risky drive,
But speed reduce both dislike.

The greatest pleasures hid
In the pits of risks.

poem by Fabiyas M V
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Dealing With Wisdom

Dealing on the wisdom beats learning,
A thought from God collides with education.
Knowledge is best from the book,
Under the cover is more wisdom
That I extract, fully using the sense I was bestowed
By the spirit and the saint,
This maid is a queen, of highly elaborate dress,
Of quiet talking manners, wonderful zeal.
The faces that hide are recorded for time,
And time does not flow irregularly,
For it steams the pudding of atoms
And we like the dark matter or treacle on top.
Electric wisdom is for the people of treacle and syrup.

poem by Naveed Akram
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As Many Dawns of Growth Have Come to Go!

Feeding into camouflaged demonics,
Has left too many bleeding.
Ironically...
With a seething done.
That does not relieve.

A pleading to God to be freed of temptations...
Doesn't come so quick.
To those with religious addictions.
With scriptures to quote.
And their frequent Sunday visits.

These folks are shakened,
By devastated awakenings.
As many dawns of growth,
Have come to go ignored.
With their faces etched reflecting death...
Appearing slowly.
As if fetched by a lost pet.
Unexpected!
But returning home to a consciousness...
Once so disconnected and delusioned.
And confused by a truth refused.

While those nearing...'death'!
Have yet to experience a life,
Qualified to live.
Since others have projected,
Their own version of wholesomeness.
That they have yet subjected!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Awed by her splendor

Awed by her splendor
stars near the lovely
moon cover their own
bright faces
when she
is roundest and lights
earth with her silver

poem by Sappho
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FATHER Of Hate

Drums at beat, fires rising at the gates - Three by 6, the number engraved on the gates which cuts heaven down to hell - Quite is the screaming, today is the birthday which smokes at the back, the morning star that bevilled the little devil - the master of disaster, destroyer of our souls, one lost to the multiple of faith, laughter cast to eternal flames were not the script Diabl6 seeked, crafted dead, crafted after - The flow fountains the millenium by the chain, which links infinity, what matters more is less, the end of time will be the end to his crimes - Judged by his maker, what hate is carried by his father, that there is no please, not by his will to accept, a chance, to set the outsiders free - There is one fact which break, the spine of a demon, that which is displayed by the wrath, the anger which burst from an angel, ONE, which cast a legion, from heaven to the darkest pits of hell

poem by Unic Cjonr
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As I

As I battle out the austere torsions of the horizon
Plying to shove the gossamer sun to set
Into the insolent demise resting on his nest;

As I dispense the divergence of the liaison
Raveling a prostrate retroactive protraction
Musing on the gloaming before it dawns;

As I subtly winnow the skirts of this curtain
A prolix camouflage to interminable impasse
Shifting fractions and equations to resume this vying;

As I exonerate the black birds perched on the fringes
And obliterate the spiteful thaw of waxen houses
Tumbling a speck to the dead of the sapid vesper;

As the body touch the soul, like a hand in glove
Quelling the warmth and seething the frost
Bereaving the vehement possibility of consummation;

As I haggle in the narrow punctures of this gnarl
Breathing underwater for a halcyon squandering
Becoming the streaks of the abundant malingering;

As I muse upon a truant aubade of distant stars
Fluttering innocuously with the scythe's of time
Bickering the scorching venom of the virulent blood;

I am becoming the beckons of untracked oblivion
That your misty vision could not touch, not seize,
The very interpolating creaks of the voids and pits;

I am flinging everything all over in a lost warfare
For a manic, a marionette tangled on its own string
Attached to vulnerable pegs of gravitated swings.

poem by Norman Santos
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Chasm

On the edge I stand
Constructing paper airplanes
Crisp clean fresh sheets
Free of any dark remark
Regrets, recriminations
Would only weigh them down

Hope the force that lifts
Fate determines course
Urged by gentle thoughts
Love or luck sees them across

Dove gray morning moments
Whispering pink dawns
Busy blue-sky days
Shouting orange sunsets
My thoughts sail out toward you

Whether under full faced Moon
Or tiny silver slivered smile
Moonlit, Moonless
Starlit, Starless,
Paper planes I launch

Hoping you might walk
The chasms edge and find
Crumpled gliders there

poem by Mary Havran
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Unrivaled Transcience

Tell me about the power of Babylonian Gods
The symmetry and geometry of their scintillations
The silver blood dripping on their immortal wrists
Do we dream of the pain evoking the pleasure of life?

In this dog eat dog, the crunch is that: we are bones
Sworn to become dusts when we are outdated by
The easy shifting of the moon's wanton penumbra
But you will remember me, I will never die before eyes

A pantheon of virile and avid serpents uprooted
The ephemeral pegs of their virulent fangs
And the bleeding came like a guest of honor
We knew it would come, so we closed our eyes

Tell me about the lore of the tress, the lure of the sands
Croon the words in my impassable nights and never tire
Like an aubade, like a lullaby, reel me deluded into life
Make stay, or astray, in the fringes of your shadows

Tell me of the ineffable boiling of the sternum
As it plunges into the void and ethereal fathoms
And let me tell my vicarious deceleration of sense
And the decadence that perched on my firmament

I will not open my eyes, I will hold my adamant gates
And we will hide in the improbable notches of day
Rolling like hushed thunders, coming with flashes of light
And disappearing swiftly as our pawned breaths

Tell me and I will close my eyes, even if I go blind
Even if we would have to die for this lie, just tell me
And haplessly hammer it into my shattered soul
Until I believe that we can contend with incandescence.

poem by Norman Santos
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Break Me

I will meet you
In some place
Where the light lends itself
To soft repose
I will let you undress me
But I warn you
I have thorns
Like any rose
And you could hurt me
With your bare hands
You could hurt me
With with the sharp end
Of what you say
But I'm lost to you now
And there's no
Amount of reason
That could save me
So break me
Take me
Just let me
Feel your arms again
Break me
I'll let you make me
Just let me
Feel your love again

Feels like being underwater
Now that I've let go
And lost control
Water kisses fill my mouth
Water fills my soul

So break me
Take me
Just let me
Feel your arms again
Break me
Make me
Just let me
Feel your love again

Kiss me once
Or maybe twice
Oh

song performed by by Jewel from This Way
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Moon Is Like You

Moon will my beam cross over?
Moon how too know I am so lonely.
Moon know, why I do sit under you?
Moon You are so bright, I reach up,
into and touch yours is very heavenly.
Moon why do you blink? Moon so pink.
Moon like you, we are to much similar
and have only one way up into moon.
Moon our faces reflect out and within.
Moon they all do, moon when you do.

poem by Is It Poetry
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A Night At The Roman Gates

The third and the last fourth quarters, made no sound at all
The first and the fourth parts built up a sound upon an old wall
There were scaffolds of gold, traces of all riches beside the fallen towers
It’s the first night at the Roman gates: the last finders are counting the lost hours
The night swift as broken spears, the beats gather into one symphony of delight
Now God watches all this closely in silence and repose
With the Jews and Gentiles sharing a common space upon the history close
Silence prevails in cold shatter: the mood is lost through the art of these ciphers
The senators walk around in silence, building up tumults of joy to all the lifers
It’s a night at the Roman gates: the moon await in splendor and in vivified sight
History walks around tombs of ancient queens, paving words on golden wings
Still memory sweeps this silent night, and places owned before by ROMAN Kings

02-03 March 2008, a first to the collection: 'History Unbound'

poem by Sicelo Sithole
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Man In The Moon

Moon in your splendor,
Shine your light on me,
Blue moon, half moon,
Makes no difference,
You see, to me you will always be
The man in the moon,
Who lights the way, for my love,
So he can open my heart with his key.
Man in the moon, silvery moon
Light my life with thee.

poem by Melba Durham
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