Funeral for a Friend
The corona of the sun rolled
Into the steep ridges of the cliffs
Where the swaying of svelte legs
Still cast the black pendulums
Out-shadowing the anthem of the day
And as it flushed the slithering roads
Without a hiss, raising the skeptic head
Like the serpent that it was
Still, I traversed the valley valiantly
Shunning the venoms and fangs
Straight into the point blank demise
Of ephemeral times
I shall don my best guise
As I trample in my meander
And swallow the slivers
Of sequestered amenities
And I shall mount the granite legs
With the impetus of veracity
Detaching from the rail tracks
Lingering to nostalgic melancholia
I will reckon a phantom
Holding a lamp, flooding the darkness
And I will tether myself
In this unfettered expedition
The shadows behind the frosted tombs
Would dither to remember
The quicksand waltz of fingers
That caressed the ruptured chambers
With unbigoted honesty
Now, gone, pilfered.
And the promises may be veritable,
But evanescence is certifiable, incorrigible
Congealed in the distanced veneer
Of the verisimilitude of impassable
Tail lights of the finite
My unfettered bliss, my vows,
We may be a one trick dog
For the serpentine alleys
But I shall engulf the devouring
And linger in the darkness
Of the snake's burrow
Celebrating your fangled funeral
While the other snake boulevards
Deuce the dice, climb the ladders,
Shed their skin and ingest it.
A crown of hibiscus, a candle,
A cold shattered pumping.
People are people,
Those days were days,
A funeral for a death
To stray in the impasse,
And a comrade is always.
Always.
poem by Norman Santos
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Related quotes
Fostering The Desperation
A plenitude of ten days can cradle the impasse
And the drudgery of the smothering blasé
For in the times where the jocund days revel
Without sparing a single seat despite your grovels,
Not even the delusive carousing inside your head
Can bend the bleak defeat heaving a lynching thread,
You are bound to incarcerate the pangs of jealousy
And subsist in a burrow on the crust of mendacity
A surfeit of abeyance is a bed of black tulips
Where death silently coils entangling in diminutive wisps
How long can you endure breathing the stygian gale?
How long can you keep your vessel from shattering in stale
Fragments of desperation? And swallow the swords that halt
Your shrouding verve or demise; your congealed surreptitious art
Of feigned exuberance and complacent retorts
To the vehement proposal of trepidation's mellifluous courts
Another futile endeavor to foster the desperation in a poetry
Is but another escalation of the devastated treaty
Flustered by the weakened barricades
I can see a snake hissing for a charade
On my heels, swiveling my pace in distraught
And corrupting the plaque from the wars I had fought
I can smite the devil, but what good will it be?
Can it fend the lacquer fangs of this atrocious veracity?
poem by Norman Santos
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Sonnet-Who Am I?
I am a linear, legless, Vertebrate;
Bellying the earth, ever since my birth;
Of varying sizes, colours, shapes; I mate,
And swallow whole, life many times my girth.
I writhe and snake my way up fast;
I am the 'Sentinel of Land and sea';
Most people look at me awe-struck, aghast;
I hiss and scurry forth frightened, may be.
My fangs are poison-filled and also not;
I scour the earth, listening to vibrations;
Most people hit my head with sticks when caught,
I'm King of Night's earth-holes of all nations.
But I'm a Snake! Oh, just a rubber-Snake!
For Heaven's sake, the beating all I take.
poem by John Celes
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Nothing To Worry About!
I don't fear nothing at all,
but when nothing becomes something
and it growls with sparkling pointed white teeth,
i shake in my shoes and
my legs quake beneath;
and i run and i hide and think darkly inside
and remember (as much as i can) ,
I don't fear nothing at all; and,
nothing becomes something
and that something is tall,
and it casts a great shadow
that blocks out the light,
('cause i'm small) .
Then i run in the shadows
and tremble with fright.
until i remember
(as best as i might)
It's nothing i'm fearing
(nothing, that's all!):
but it's dark in the shadows
with ropes that can bind,
and i can't clearly see
what it is that I find.
I think it's a poisonous snake
that can hiss
until finally i get that snake
out of my head,
and wake up to find there is nothing (to fear) ,
I am alone and there really is not
something else here.
poem by David Taylor
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A Single Candle/Death Herself
A single flame lights her face
The face of death
A single candle holds her fears
The fears of death
Her hands clasped anrond their souls
The souls of the dead
She feeds of their screams
The screams of the dead
Her legs lay bellow her
Bellow death
Her black gown over her body
The body of death
Her chest rises and falls with her breath
The breath of death
Her cloak drawn over her long flowing jet hair
The face of death
Her eyes unmoved unfeeling
Do you see it?
Do you see the soul of death?
Do you feel it?
Her skin as white as snow as it fades into darkness
The snow of tears
Her cloths as dark as night that swallows the light
The dark we all shall see
Her eyes close as she feels their souls flow
Flow from the dead
She leaves them there to lay in darkness
She steals from the dead
A single candle lights their faces filled with her
Filled with death
They fall into the darkness of her eyes, of her heart
The darkness of death
A single candle shall stay to light their way
Their way through the dark
A single candle holds their past
The pain and trials
A single candle lights her face
The face of death
A single candle holds her fears
The fears of death herself
A single candle
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Vicissitude's Incertitude
Riveted in the motion
Of the silent waltz
Within the arms of the clocks
Yet, vaguely apprehended
By the sporadic undertows
Of land sliding changes
And the blood vessels
Recounted the heat
Bloating in the deluge
Of being fed
Under the arms
And being battered
By the churning
Of strings attached
In the viscera
Profoundly suturing
The pilfered enigma
The Pandora's Box unlatched
Emancipating the words
That ought to be kept
In the deepest bosom
Of the earth's core
And fondly caressed
By temporal camaraderie
In the times when the sun
Would kiss the darkness to stir
The despondence
And injecting
A dose of magnesia
To sedate
The veritable apprehension
And the impetus to fire
Like a bullet
Darting blindly
To flocks of mockingbirds
And not hitting
At all.
poem by Norman Santos
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See The Snake In Her Eyes
Look into the wind, your empty thoughts wrapped up and thrown out in the bin, the igloo was cold, you should have been told, life can be good if you don't have no soul. The pictures that fall from your marshmallow walls, keep reminding me of times, out on the street, no skin on my feet, the blood opens up from hands and thighs, and yet I remember, yet I remember.
See the snake in her eye’s.
The dentist he smiles with a toothless reply, neon lights like a hawk, they gazed down, sodden, brazen only to frown. I'm fumbling around, lost and stupid around on the ground. I've come to the end, the sound of waves crashing a remarkable friend. But long distant pier, and some more frothy beer, curled up in comfort before she dies, and yet I remember, yet I remember.
See the snake in her eye’s.
The world, she's looking in, but I have to remember, she's just made of tin, she smiles as she crawls, up and down my marshmallow walls, sucking the sweet, caressing my feet, but they have no skin, extra blood is an added treat. Sense the tingle, even the needle. She sends me high, yet I remember, yet I remember.
See the snake in her eye’s.
So now, I cried by the walls, of Jerusalem walls, wish to climb and linger and I long to fall. I talk to the tree’s, for they talk to me, just make a nonsense of it all. I dance with the crows, for they are so bold, so black and so very old. Temptation calls, they point to a cross that makes me look so small and dross, I find my own nails, dipped them in such a holy Grail, the Grail has no time and throws me back to rhyme and rhyme. So I must seek the way back to the street, where my love I trusted to blue skies, yet I remember, must always remember.
See the snake in her eye’s.
poem by Fergus Michael Condron
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The Cause of Enmity between Snake and Man
Snake, the first owner of fire.
Dog, the robber of fire.
Man the last owner of fire.
The snake gave birth first to fire.
Thus fire, the first born of snake.
Thus snake, only owner of fire long ago.
One cold evening
The man dying of coldness
The dog seen it master dying of coldness
It went to snake house and begged
The snake, the mother of fire to let
It tail get warm of fire
The snake cordially welcomed the dog
The dog twisted it tail on fire
The tail caught the fire
The dog jumped over the snake in door
Ran quickly to it master, the man
The man took the grass and wood
And lit up the fire
The fire lit up in man’s house
And it extinguished in snake’s house
The snake come to get fire back
But the man attack the snake
The hostility between man and snake
Began then
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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Writing The Words
I’m writing this at your funeral.
As I watch all the people in tears.
I wish I could join them,
But I know I have to be strong.
I’m writing this on my hand,
No paper to get it down on.
I want to remember your funeral,
So I’m writing this to honour you.
I’m writing the thoughts that pop into my head,
Making sure they are only the best.
I have to remember,
Because I couldn’t live with myself if I ever forgot.
I’m writing this at your funeral,
As people dropp flowers onto your coffin.
I stand up to dropp my own,
Blue, unlike the others, because I know it’s your favourite.
I’m writing this through the ceremony,
Because if I listen to the words I’ll cry.
And I know I can’t, for you,
I have to keep it together.
I’m writing the words I want to say,
To make people remember how much love you gave.
Because I want them to know,
How much of it you gave to me.
So, I’m writing this at your funeral,
To stop myself from shedding a tear.
I’m writing this at your funeral,
So that I never ever forget you.
poem by Rachel Brewer
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Snake Skin
I shed my past hurts away
Like a snake
Shedding its old skin
To relish the new shiny skin
I sloughed off some double-tongued associates
Those with slithering words of abuse
which slips in tongue without constraints
their venom more deadly than that of a poisonous snake
poem by Champs Ulysses Cabinatan
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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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If I Ever Was a Snake
If I was a snake, my eyes would be green,
I would wander the land and look real mean.
If I was a snake, I'd know how to sting,
Despite all the trouble it would bring.
If I was a snake, I'd be red and gold,
I would slither and slather and eat my mice cold.
If I was a snake, I'd rattle my tail,
But I'd be polite and never go to jail.
If I was a snake, I'd slide on my tummy,
Hamsters and mice would be real yummy.
If I was a snake, I'd live on the ground,
Sleeping and snoring 'till I was found.
I would never learn how to rake,
If I ever was a snake.
poem by October Bradley
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Shadow Dance
The shadows danced with the hazy smoke
Draped in the malodorous tobacco scent
Rippling the pallid beckon of the summer noon
The shadows danced and lightly rouse
Insurmountable motions of the colossus sea
And lingered with the auspicious truancy
The shadows danced with the svelte strokes
In the maladroit light-flushed and fueled-gush
Whining seep of a violent breath of life
The shadows danced with phantom swords
Scintillating sparks to flicker within the darkness
Slumbering in the corners of somnolent eyes
The shadows danced in the reveling noise
Where the sun never quells the thirsty rose
And never pours for the barren host
The shadows danced and tilted inertia
To greedily gather the myriad of porcelain jars
Brimming with dusts and scripts and stars
The shadows danced and I was enthused
To sway the steely legs gnarled in the silence
Of calculating the shadows rhythmic palpitations
poem by Norman Santos
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Holding On
See the searching...
See the people...
Out in the darkness and soul searching
Did you find what we had lost?
All this time Ive got to thinking about the promises;
How long this energy of winter?
How many times that we could never love?
How many times is time enough?
All the foolish notions: when well die thats all that is.
We can never really understand the broken promises.
All along we run together (remember? )
All along we run as one (remember? )
When you find a perfect union, youve got to follow it.
Stop that reasoning (youve got the answer)
Stop that thinking out loud! (youve got the answer)
Go where your heart takes you to (youve got the answer!)
Youre not that innocent! youve been around!
Youre not that innocent...
Got to be right; got it coming to you.
How many times is time enough? (time enough...)
Your time is just beginning out of all where we came from.
Holding on: this point receiving; there it is, there it is, there it is
Holding on, can you remember
Holding on, was it ever like this?
Holding on, its the most important thing.
It was the first time that I saw you
It was the first time that I knew
Out of all my disbelieving,
Holding on, I was holding you.
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Holding On
See the searching...
See the people...
Out in the darkness and soul searching
Did you find what we had lost?
All this time Ive got to thinking about the promises;
How long this energy of winter?
How many times that we could never love?
How many times is time enough?
All the foolish notions: when well die thats all that is.
We can never really understand the broken promises.
All along we run together (remember? )
All along we run as one (remember? )
When you find a perfect union, youve got to follow it.
Stop that reasoning (youve got the answer)
Stop that thinking out loud! (youve got the answer)
Go where your heart takes you to (youve got the answer!)
Youre not that innocent! youve been around!
Youre not that innocent...
Got to be right; got it coming to you.
How many times is time enough? (time enough...)
Your time is just beginning out of all where we came from.
Holding on: this point receiving; there it is, there it is, there it is
Holding on, can you remember
Holding on, was it ever like this?
Holding on, its the most important thing.
It was the first time that I saw you
It was the first time that I knew
Out of all my disbelieving,
Holding on, I was holding you.
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Straight Into Darkness
There was a little girl, I used t o know her
I still think about her, time to time
There was a moment when I really loved her
Then one day the feeling just died
We went straight into darkness
Out over the line
Yeah straight into darkness
Straight into nigh t
I remember flying out to london
I remember the feeling at the time
Out the window of the 747
Man there was nothin, only black sky
We went straight into darkness
Out over the line
Straight into darkness
Straight into night
Oh give it up to me I need it
Girl, I know when I see it
Baby wrong or right I need it
I dont believe the good times are over
I dont believe the thrill is all gone
Real love is a mans salvation
The weak ones fall the strong carry on
Straight into darkness
Out over the line
Yeah straight into darkness
Straight into night
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Intelligence Fails
The world is a snake-ladder game.
Some get ladders but not snake bites.
Some get snake bites but not ladders.
Most get both but not evenly.
No intelligence can work it out.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Farewell To Florida
I
Go on, high ship, since now, upon the shore,
The snake has left its skin upon the floor.
Key West sank downward under massive clouds
And silvers and greens spread over the sea. The moon
Is at the mast-head and the past is dead.
Her mind will never speak to me again.
I am free. High above the mast the moon
Rides clear of her mind and the waves make a refrain
Of this: that the snake has shed its skin upon
The floor. Go on through the darkness. The waves fly back
II
Her mind had bound me round. The palms were hot
As if I lived in ashen ground, as if
The leaves in which the wind kept up its sound
From my North of cold whistled in a sepulchral South,
Her South of pine and coral and coraline sea,
Her home, not mine, in the ever-freshened Keys,
Her days, her oceanic nights, calling
For music, for whisperings from the reefs.
How content I shall be in the North to which I sail
And to feel sure and to forget the bleaching sand ...
III
I hated the weathery yawl from which the pools
Disclosed the sea floor and the wilderness
Of waving weeds. I hated the vivid blooms
Curled over the shadowless hut, the rust and bones,
The trees likes bones and the leaves half sand, half sun.
To stand here on the deck in the dark and say
Farewell and to know that that land is forever gone
And that she will not follow in any word
Or look, nor ever again in thought, except
That I loved her once ... Farewell. Go on, high ship.
IV
My North is leafless and lies in a wintry slime
Both of men and clouds, a slime of men in crowds.
The men are moving as the water moves,
This darkened water cloven by sullen swells
Against your sides, then shoving and slithering,
The darkness shattered, turbulent with foam.
To be free again, to return to the violent mind
That is their mind, these men, and that will bind
Me round, carry me, misty deck, carry me
To the cold, go on, high ship, go on, plunge on.
poem by Wallace Stevens
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Zealous Friends, Jealous Lovers, Two-faced Waves
Charlie, with a hathful of gratitude;
Underneath a sundered lamppost that digresses
The fiendish simper of the harlequin moon and
Behind the dazing screen of the frothing smoke
You spewed so violently, with angst and misery,
You said, inebriated by the blood of a destitute heart
And the spell of attention and camaraderie
That you will never allow losing my place—
A wafer of a turret—regardless who she will be;
A maiden of unabashed promises—you alleged
Behind the foggy breath of capitulated death
That was so much invigorating, that I was one
Of your favorite gambling cards, and one victory
From your endless brunt and grueling struggles
So I held you tight, rived in a scorching paper cut
Post Script, and a long denied demise;
Where have you gone? But worry not
I can smell the most robust verdure
The greener grass on the other side
Maybe you have not gone, after all,
Perhaps I saw too much, heard too much,
From what you did and said, but worry not
You shall be her sole bliss, her sole pain
Her endless waltz on a sapid rain.
Fatima, and a bouquet of gratefulness;
The sheathing cold and sterile scent of the arid nights
Traversed the salient oceans, the impassable hours,
To linger on the sweat-soused breath of my vespers;
Emblazoned the pallid skin and contended to shrink
The vast world so we would meet anywhere but here
And your chaste visage was too pristine to rub in
The stains of my impoverished palette of stains
So I often times kept you in a dark vault, away from
The demons and secrets you soon met and possessed
You bellowed high and became one of my electric rivers—
A torrent flow in my chasms, and some mangled nights
You gave me a place underneath your golden parasol
And let me hear the thunders, the slapping of the rain,
All the cacophonous melody of your downpour.
Post Script, and a barb wire of ties;
What hath I done or hath not?
But answer not, falter not
Tarnish not plastered grins.
The pergola underneath your parasol
Needs not my gardening, now do reckon
That his thumb is green radiating from
A gilded heart dedicated and committed
Solely for your flowers blossoming
Selfish Lovers, with a bucket of gelid hate,
I do not care if your contours altered, I do not care!
I do not care if you never bothered, I do not care!
I do not care when you feel the impales of evanescence
When I have grown tired of agonizing in pain
For pain, too, is ephemeral and I do not care!
I do not care if your memory wanes, if you're mediocre!
I do not care if you loathe me in a special place
Where I stood before you came, I do not care!
I do not care if your doe-eyes are vivid green
From getting what they deserve, I do not care!
I do not care if you'll let go, even if you fall flat,
Crash your cranium and bleed to die, I do not care!
I do not know who you have become and were the same,
I'm caught in between burning flames, but I cannot care!
Zealous friends once,
Jealous lovers once,
Two-faced wave's waves,
My eyes despise all of you
For who I have become.
Can you not see how better you
Can be without me? Don't care for
The spins of the third wheel.
With a quicksand of love
Good riddance and luck!
poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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dream-The Snake
The snake was held
In another's hand.
Kill it I said,
Before it strikes.
The other struggled
With it
And could not contain
The head.
Beware it will
Strike you.
Get its head
Before it bares
Its fangs.
The snake seemed
Weak.
I rushed in
And pulverized
Its head,
Before it had
A chance to raise
It.
The sight of its
Limp body
Helped me to relax.
It cannot harm
Me now
That red headed
Snake
I've fixed
It.
poem by Mary Mc Creath
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The Snake
sometimes
i feel like i want to shed off
all my skin
and molt like a snake
perhaps
to feel what the snake
does
one time there was
a snake under my
bed
it was helpless
as it was molting
i could not
bite
i did not touch
it
i did not mind
it
perhaps
it is the same reason
why people
in the house
too does not mind
me
and never for once
ever touch
me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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