Exhuming The Bones Of Naivety
I was another orphan
from the gravid collections
cloyed by jealousy,
drifting past the irony
I watched it dance -
the usurped splendor
once basked in the innocent eyes -
with the waning dust motes
with a vehemence of a sleeper
Felled from the platoon,
unrifled and guised with a
perfunctory smile,
hiding amidst the enviable insularity
of the rain's iron curtains
complacence is my confidant
my citadel against
my own destructive measures
And when the crooked hands
of the clock unsheathed
its vengeful fusillade
not a shadow flailed,
not a soul squandered,
everything was as still
as an obsidian memory
as if the wanton silence speaks
a mirror of harangue
against the enemy inside
the eyes of naivety.
poem by Norman Santos
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A Crooked Smile (song)
With your deep brown eyes
and your crooked smile
you swept me away for
quite a while when you smiled
a crooked smile
Then you came and
asked for a chance
but all I said was
How bout a dance
and then you smiled
A crooked smile
(Chorus)
Now your gone
and I'm missing you
and my broken Heart
wont be in two
when you smile
a crooked smile
Years have passed
and tears have too
but all I know
is I love you
and your smile
your crooked smile
Yesterday when you
got off the plane
you ran to my side
cuz I stood at your gate
and then you smiled
a croooked smile
You pulled me close
and said hello
but I could see
you were being mellow
til you smiled
a crooked smile
(Chorus)
now your here
and I'm loving you
and my broken heart
won't be in two
when you smile
a crooked smile
Moments passed
and memories made
And I know there ain't a better day
then when you smile
a crooked smile
Oh when you smile
my heart goes wild
poem by Jasmine Thompson
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Postcards
The pageantry of bliss -
I watched them in full light
that burns out the soft graze
Why, on a sunny August,
with passersby gilded by ebullience
do I have to be a wretched man?
The mirrors bend backwards
to my toppling complacence
and slivers uncouthly when
I unfurl my crooked teeth
in what should look like a smile
I counted the black birds
that perched on electric lines,
I counted the phone's dial tones,
but I cannot count the thorns
tossed upon my open sleep
that sent my dreams in an asylum
The night will always arrive
exacerbating a painful affliction
where I am enthused to write
and these words I tinker
will try to tickle the tassels
on the fringes of your blanket
And I didn't need to count
the diminutive tragedies
and benumbing dejections
for they are always abundant
guised as cold orbs assailed
into the inverted stygian ocean
When the clock falls into sequence
and quintessential pain engulfs
the root of my prime disease: love,
my words beget the stark naked frailty
and hoists an oppressive defense
in a hapless, puny onslaught
Where are those postcards
that lured me with sunshine?
Those kind words that were
as generic as a wanton smile?
Those postcards enveloped
in the treacherous skin of hope?
poem by Norman Santos
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Shadows in the mirror
Shadows in the mirror
With memories of his midnight,
Is that you, with aglow on face?
Sad and pale filled with pain.
With a struggle for self;
Slipping past from my reaching hands.
With horizontal thrust from the present
Peeps into past for the venom errors.
I show not your face, your intuitive feeling.
A man of a solitary disposition
Your cold is gone with the wind
So close your eyes with holy dread,
His flashing eyes and floating hair!
Weave a circle round him.
And in your lurid eyes there glistened hope
The dying flame of life's desire;
Your reflections are stretched and distorted
With irony, and humor, and sadness.
It’s not my error; I am a mirror,
Showing you what you have in mettle;
Shadow tried to speak; but its tongue stumbles
poem by Sakkthi Subramaniyam
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Times I Write
Five A.M. snooped coyly
In my harried sleeplessness
Between the curtains of the equipoise
Of the red and dying eve
And the vim of early dawn
Rapping the emollient shuddering
Until everything synergized
Into a tepid pace,
And in this times
I am most alive
Growing more eyes
And superfluous hands
And my tentacles would permit me
To wander far-off,
Maybe to far-off
That I reached the enemy lines
Ticking the sleeping mines
And fulminating the wiles
Expulsing all of me
Into the bleak certitude
Of loneliness.
In the salient silence
Of the hiatus
I have been to several houses;
Of a family masticating
Each other's laments,
Of lovers quaffing
Their virulent endearments,
Of an ode's wardrobe
Naked in opalescent flesh
And there is but the ashen
Skin of loneliness,
And of friends sleeping
In the bed of complacence
Unknowing of
The wandering anxiousness.
I have been a fathom
Deeper than the cesspool
In my stygian eyes
That I had impertinently
Wished to dismember
The clock's petulant arms,
Though it in spite
Of the carnage
It would never sojourn
And settle with our pace;
Another corruption.
poem by Norman Santos
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Broken Constellations
Days stretched
but its light kept waning
until the pallor is the same
with a dead star's flame -
a prostrate miasma
of saudade iridescence
that only divulges
in beleaguered musings
and I wonder
if I am the only one
who can see its gossamer fractions
and the only one inveigled
by its fecundated vacuum
Somewhere,
in this prostrate flummox
of a fulminating constellation
our eyes opened
into different horizons
Your furtive vision
basked in the quiescence
of star-spangled oceans
measuring its depth
and usurping the reflection
and the resplendence of this
emporium of modest afflictions
stifles the echolalia
of a quasar's scream
I remain suspended
steadfast to my ponderous insularity
played by godly tethers
of delinquent abandons
stifling with frantic inflections
as the doors of the galaxies
revolved in a riveted motion
and in this eternal frame
of constant recuperation
from constant withering
you are ubiquitous amongst
the broken constellations
The universe wouldn't halt
for our subtle rupture
but the fusillade rages on
while you resigned into your aurora
and a bereavement ailed
cicatrizing with the superfluity
of my blackholes' etudes.
poem by Norman Santos
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Vanguard
Even the tortoise
Carries its own citadel,
The babel of voices
Can collapse to total silence,
And the song of sparrows
Don't they mean anything?
The cigarette suspended in your lips
And the lisping of your eyes
The city's sentry of lights
Or the heart's cacophonous rhythm;
Can you smell the stench of fear
One thousand stride away from your reach
But surreptitiously stockpiling bricks
Old as your flesh of stone
In the threadbare defense of heart?
Aren't we desperate with hunger?
Aren't we thirsty for safety and bliss?
What artillery can you yield
Against the famished hunters?
What armada can defeat
The enemy inside our holes?
Like an obstinate beetle
I wore an armour of a ruse
Deluding the melanin of the night
But underhandedly flickering iridescence
I dug a hole to the ground -
A grave for all the merciless struggling
The silence of the shadow was my roar
And this defense is my leonine grace
For in this savage platoon of truth
There's no chance to dodge the bullets
Unless you immolate yourself
Before the superfluity of fingers
And it takes courage to be unafraid.
poem by Norman Santos
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Tonight
Tonight
Do we have to fight again
Tonight?
I just want to go to sleep
Turn out the light
But you want to carry grudges
Oh, nine times out of ten
Oh, I see the storm approaching
Long before the rain starts falling
Tonight
Does it have to be the old thing
Tonight?
Oh, its late, too late
To chase the rainbow that youre after
Id like to find a compromise
Oh, and place it in your hands
My eyes are blind, my ears cant hear
Oh, and I cannot find the time
Tonight
Just let the curtains close in silence
Why not approach with less defiance
The man whod love to see you smile
Whod love to see you smile
Tonight
Tonight
Just let the curtains close in silence
Tonight
Why not approach with less defiance
The man whod love to see your smile
The man whod love to see your smile
The man whod love to see your smile
Tonight
song performed by by George Michael
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am Mirror
The function of the psychoanalyst.
Lead vocal: leo sayer
Suppose i were to tell you that the meaning of dreams
Is not all that it seems and the ultimate truth is a lie.
And you are just a puppet who can dance on a string.
Do you feel anything?
Would you laugh? would you care? would you cry?
But the meaning of life is a mystery, how can anyone disagree?
And the music is a symphony which we play in a minor key.
I am a mirror. i am a mirror. looking at me you see yourself
I am a mirror. i am a mirror. every face is someone else.
Look at me smile and you're the clown. and if i dance you turn around.
Look in my eyes and see your tears until the music disappears.
So if you are confused and don't know which way to go.
You will certainly know. from the moment we're living we die.
And if it's all a crazy game you don't want to play
Tell me what you can say.
It's a joke. it's the truth. it's a lie.
But the meaning of life is a mystery that we don't understand.
And the music is a rhapsody if you're happy the way that you are.
I am a mirror. i am a mirror. looking at me you see yourself
I am a mirror. i am a mirror. every face is someone else.
Look at me smile and you're the clown. and if i dance you turn around.
Look in my eyes and see your tears until the music disappears.
And the meaning of life is a mystery though we live it from day to day.
But the music of live should be harmony so that anyone here can play.
I am a mirror. i am a mirror. looking at me you see yourself
I am a mirror. i am a mirror. every face is someone else.
Look at me smile and you're the clown. and if i dance you turn around.
Look in my eyes and see your tears until the music disappears.
song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Metamorphosing Into Poignancy
There upon the soughing coughs of
the interminable vacuum of gravity,
the poems sprawled intermingling with
a desire to be read along with tatterdemalion
tragedies awaiting for the fall of Troy's defenses
to succumb into the unsolicited succors
cloyed upon your generous hands
Bibliophilic remedies only revives the flowers
felled in your gray-faced mausoleum
along with the bard's crooning to the
marigolds prancing for rain and sunshine;
The reflection in the blood-spattered tiles pries
for a sangfroid perchance that barters treasures
for these despondent malingerers' desire
Defenestrated with a roll of tobacco-lust,
the effluence of smoke carrying your faint
ambers crawled into the sky before it fecundated -
skin to soul inward-fulmination, and gave birth
to a phantasmagoria festooned with the veritable
pangs of misery protecting the frailty of
a white rose's calculated corolla of petals
There is no backdoors waiting in this labyrinth
so I roamed with dove-feet sunwards
donned in a raiment of shattered glass, I kneel
before the moon's phosphorous jeopardy
and prayed a succinct and embarrassed plea
to be taken in the cradles of your lost lullaby
But the cacophonous propinquity of the
dungeons where I abolished my only wish and
the suppuration of your tender pensiveness
toppled in a gravid dyslexia of niceties
and the entropy of empathy succumbs
to the larceny where the mindless
dandelions gave up their roots and family
What is more austere than the grief in wanting
something as perilous as a freefall in a gully
of fatally abundant-coloured finches is to
tether one's desire to the sullen bliss of
an empty tableau that ousts every blood
etched upon its obstinate ashen skin
The windless sand caught the fire seething
with the raining lances and the insinuation
of naivety personified, and in that cold war,
haplessly naked to the merciless conflagrations
I permitted my shriveled hands to percolate
through the infinite quartz, probing for the lost
end of a shapeless thread that shall fit the
ajar eye of my needle and perhaps resume
the weaving of my already sun-washed tapestry
Metamorphosing endlessly, shifting is a fix
below the grandiosity of chandeliers and
inside the cravings of a lurid vanity
mirroring the grotesque aftermath,
on and on, I debilitated my perfunctory mouth
to spill the simple soul into the garish light
without any rational purpose at all.
poem by Norman Santos
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The Drab Splendor Of A Gargoyle
The dark came generously
with storm-troubled wings
The stars are all quelled
and the wind hangs purposelessly
There is a streak of verdigris
on the cicatrizing vault
A corolla of change dangles,
a shifting moon unfolds
and my imposition remained
a lackluster glacial metal
The weather was still as gold
and voracious as greedy kings
the crooked hands of the day
basked in luxurious rendezvous
Whilst I dreamed in hues of gray
weaving poems to the blasé moon
stitching the tatterdemalion tapestry
that mantled the ailing wounds
I found myself waiting
in front of a riddling mirror
with words unspoken off
If you knock, it will echo
If you burst, it will find tempo
My penetralium convalesced
nauseated from a peremptory vertigo
and my wallflower's petals
are paper-thin no more
thorns spangled its sleep
because it will never uncurl
under the searchlight's whim
I picked the felled letters
harried by the erratic gyration
of the ponderous atmosphere
I watched it turn to ash
as lips burned from their harangue
but the lions remain asleep
with the phantoms of their dens
and everything passed by
with deaf-mute miscalculations
To slur in the banquet
of manifold palettes
is a one-way ticket
for a subtle gargoyle
watching cold fountains
rise and fall, dance and topple
and on the gray clouds
lambently walk without
leaving scars and without
knotting prostate ties
Tonight, I rivet back
into the walls of my cathedral -
A pivoting turret that hisses
for the giant's intimidations.
poem by Norman Santos
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Shadow Of The Sun
Once upon a time
I was on a mind to lay your burden down
And leave you where you stood
You believed I could
Youd seen it done before
I could read your thoughts
And tell you what you saw
And never say a word
But now that is gone
Over with and done
And never to return
I can tell you why
People die alone
I can tell you why
The shadow on the sun
Staring at the loss
Looking for the cause
And never really sure
Nothing but a hole
To live without a soul
And nothing to be learned
I can tell you why
People go insane
I can show you how
You could do the same
I can tell you why
The end will never come
I can tell you on
The shadow on the sun
Shapes of every size
Move behind my eyes
Doors inside my head
Bolted from within
Every drop of flame
Lights a candle in
Memory of the one
Who lived inside my skin
I can tell you why
People go insane
I can show you how
You could do the same
I can tell you why
The end will never come
I can tell you on
The shadow on the sun
Shadow on the sun
Shadow on the sun
Shadow on the sun
Shadow on the sun
Shadow on the sun
Shadow on the sun
Shadow on the sun
Sun
Sun
song performed by by Audioslave
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mirror, Mirror
Mirror mirror just watchin' with your eye of glass
You're just a fortune wheel with something that i wanna ask
Mirror mirror got my fate lyin' in your hands
You're the fool, you're the juggler
Hangman and lover, you're not like no other
Take a look into my eyes
Tell me what you see
Take a look into my eyes
Tell me is it true?
Take a look into my eyes
Oh when i look at you
Take a look into my eyes
Tell me is it me?
Is it really me?
Mirror mirror gotta know just what you see
My crystal ball, you're lookin' so sly and so sleazy
Mirror mirror hangin' there with that crack in your eye
You make me stumble, make me blind
Time after time and line by line
Mirror mirror oh tell me
You're the fool, you're the juggler
I ain't met a lover, you're like no other
Take a look into my eyes
Tell me what you see
Take a look into my eyes
Tell me is it true?
Take a look into my eyes
Oh it just can't last
Take a look into my eyes
Gonna have to smash the glass
Take a look into my eyes
Take a look into my eyes
Take a look
Take a look into my eyes
Oh yeah
Take a look into my eyes
Take a look into my eyes
Take a look into my eyes
Take a look into my eyes
Take a look
Take a look into my eyes
Look into my eyes
Take a look into my eyes
Tell me if it's me
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
song performed by by Def Leppard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Air
Naturally it is night.
Under the overturned lute with its
One string I am going my way
Which has a strange sound.
This way the dust, that way the dust.
I listen to both sides
But I keep right on.
I remember the leaves sitting in judgment
And then winter.
I remember the rain with its bundle of roads.
The rain taking all its roads.
Nowhere.
Young as I am, old as I am,
I forget tomorrow, the blind man.
I forget the life among the buried windows.
The eyes in the curtains.
The wall
Growing through the immortelles.
I forget silence
The owner of the smile.
This must be what I wanted to be doing,
Walking at night between the two deserts,
Singing.
poem by William Stanley Merwin
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Justaminute
9: 48
I watch the
Clock. Green
Numbers flashing
Past; my ageing
Eyes barely; if
Even, remaining
Alongside as the
Minutes roll on to
Hours roll on to
Months, years, decades,
Centuries. Already my
Life is eroded
By time's
Repeating, unrelenting
Fusillade.
I watch the
Clock.
9: 49
poem by Mark Challenger
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Sarah
The silence inside shadow will be profound!
Let me tell you
If ghost has forshaken your two eyes,
it may lament!
Inside me
I am lost in thought
I am hidden
Yet I can see
Whom?
You may ask me
And I silently ask the ghost to make a comment
The ghost then looks at the mirror
The mirror never lies
Yet Time flows
The mirror hardly cares!
Shamik Bose 17.05.09 Calcutta
poem by Shamik Bose
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I Am A Mirror
Lead vocal: leo sayer
Suppose I were to tell you that the meaning of dreams
Is not all that it seems and the ultimate truth is a lie.
And you are just a puppet who can dance on a string.
Do you feel anything?
Would you laugh? would you care? would you cry?
But the meaning of life is a mystery, how can anyone disagree?
And the music is a symphony which we play in a minor key.
I am a mirror. I am a mirror. looking at me you see yourself
I am a mirror. I am a mirror. every face is someone else.
Look at me smile and youre the clown. and if I dance you turn around.
Look in my eyes and see your tears until the music disappears.
So if you are confused and dont know which way to go.
You will certainly know. from the moment were living we die.
And if its all a crazy game you dont want to play
Tell me what you can say.
Its a joke. its the truth. its a lie.
But the meaning of life is a mystery that we dont understand.
And the music is a rhapsody if youre happy the way that you are.
I am a mirror. I am a mirror. looking at me you see yourself
I am a mirror. I am a mirror. every face is someone else.
Look at me smile and youre the clown. and if I dance you turn around.
Look in my eyes and see your tears until the music disappears.
And the meaning of life is a mystery though we live it from day to day.
But the music of live should be harmony so that anyone here can play.
I am a mirror. I am a mirror. looking at me you see yourself
I am a mirror. I am a mirror. every face is someone else.
Look at me smile and youre the clown. and if I dance you turn around.
Look in my eyes and see your tears until the music disappears.
song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gazing Upon A Star In Memory Of Another Star
Sometimes we take moments for granted
Some days we never really appreciate the meaning of life
Somehow we never realize what it really means to spend a day with those we care about
So somewhere beyond the clouds I hope we will meet again
so that I can make it up to you for the moments we never had.
With tears flowing to tell my sorrow,
Here I am gazing upon a star in memory of another star
Clock ticked, seasons changed
Smiles came, laughter passed
Wounds would heal but scars never did
Heart still bleeding a sea of pain,
Guess the bandages can never conceal the lesion left behind
If I had one wish it's your smile on my wish list
Two words to say, I'd say them to you
But now all I can do is gaze upon a star in memory of another star
Wish I could turn back the hands of time to make the moments we never lived
But it feels like the clock stopped ticking when your heart stopped beating
I kept believing because I never wanted to start grieving
I held their hands to keep them strong and with your words I sought to console them
Couldn't shed a tear because I had to dry their tears
But here I am drowning in my tears wishing I had someone to come comfort me
But all I can do is gaze upon a star in memory of another star
With 1 hand high I'll take 6 steps back
Can't breathe no more so I'll take a 0 to the floor and cry some more
8 moves to get up, I hope it's enough to express the pain deep inside my chest
i thought 0 wounds were left but it's truly a valley of anguish and I'm scared to visit it
hands together so I'll pray to the Lord that at His feet we'll meet again
Feel like I'm at the worlds edge trying to dance the pain away
1,6,0,8,0,9 are the figures my head will never forget.
So I'll dance and move all those steps till they spell that date
When I sat all alone gazing out into the night sky with 2 eyes wet
just like I'm doing now with both eyes soaked
Gazing upon a star in memory of you.
poem by Sir T.A.E.P.S
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One Big Smile In Silence
the silence on my shoulder
fell off as i got closer
and colder
and could not darken my eyes
as my hands told me to rise
from the morning of the night
like an army
to an enemy
by the night
without a might
as my say were so wide
and not in comprehension
but my ears run abroad without tension
to hear my heart beat
to the drum beat
so long i lived without
none to cheat
apart from seeing mine
and wondered so fine
as my shoulder
fell from silence
with one big smile
across my silence
though it were
not my intention to smile
i had no other but to smile
awhile...
opn22082012/2156
'one big smile in silence'
'hands of hope' book no.9 of 2012
aug.2012
ntema's unique poetry (nup)
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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Emmy
Emmy's exquisite youth and her virginal air,
Eyes and teeth in the flash of a musical smile,
Come to me out of the past, and I see her there
As I saw her once for a while.
Emmy's laughter rings in my ears, as bright,
Fresh and sweet as the voice of a mountain brook,
And still I hear her telling us tales that night,
Out of Boccaccio's book.
There, in the midst of the villainous dancing-hall,
Leaning across the table, over the beer,
While the music maddened the whirling skirts of the ball,
As the midnight hour drew near,
There with the women, haggard, painted and old,
One fresh bud in a garland withered and stale,
She, with her innocent voice and her clear eyes, told
Tale after shameless tale.
And ever the witching smile, to her face beguiled,
Paused and broadened, and broke in a ripple of fun,
And the soul of a child looked out of the eyes of a child,
Or ever the tale was done.
O my child, who wronged you first, and began
First the dance of death that you dance so well?
Soul for soul: and I think the soul of a man
Shall answer for yours in hell.
poem by Arthur Symons
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The Smile Of An Enemy
The smile of an enemy
makin me think it's the
end of me
Fearful to the core of heart
is that smile of an enemy
feels like I can't run
feels like I can't hide...
from that smile of an enemy
Is my life written in stone
by my enemy?
The smile of an enemy
has taken over me
and I can't do a damn thing
about it
or can I?
Who's hands are over
the smile of an enemy?
Who pulls the corners of
his mouth makin my enemy
smile at me?
I have to put my hands over
his mouth
My hands are now over his
mouth
He is not smiling at me now
He is smiling at my hands
over his mouth!
And he can't do a damn
Thing about it
I have taken away the smile
of my enemy
His smile that scares me so
are in my hands now
poem by Brenda Poole
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