Lionized
The night dawned beneath
the searing diadems
sprawled on the floors
without a king or a queen
like a roarless lion
prancing on a tawny field
without any manifestation -
a gilded mass of a shadow
capitulated from its vigor
The light spangling faintly
upon the sweating glass
the pendulum crashed
with the moon on her boudoir
clad by gargoyle clouds
we possess the darkness
cloyed by our eyes
We took ferocity for granted
whuthering from the ascent
the soldering amber sent -
A babel of roars marauding
the forlorn passages to the
gaping chamber of frailty
like a folded letter sweating
in gasoline we await
to be torched before them:
a terse plea to be saved
in the resonance of the pangs
of a miserable wound's cry
cussing with a threat
In this clandestine stupor
I found the enigma of the trees;
their interpolations caught
in the equinox of time
while the whimsy downpour
beats our jellyfish backs
like storm-troubled wings
heralding ludicrous tidings
and before the jeopardy
cicatrize in the garrisons
we called for seraphic pardons
and their vanguard hailed
like blood lusting lances
turbidly awakening the lions
asleep under their cages
Insinuated from the mayhem
a searing sputter broke
like a child's innocuous laugh
tearing the madhouses
and the farcical torment
The crest of the smoke
assuaged the distraught
clogging the facial veins
unbeknownst to the shattering
before numbness and
naivety was the same
under the parsimony
of truth and humility
Pawned for the rectification
this panacea held
like stars in the firmament
I wished for the chandelier
to break and fall
and in the stupor
I broke for everything
broken and sleeping
under the sepulchral
in a forlorn furlough
perhaps, for never more.
This is the way
of the lions.
poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The Meandering Lion
Latch the doors,
I want to meander
With flaming feet
Of an opulent lion
Inside my prattling veins
And in the currents
Of your thunders
If you can see them
In the condoles of the scars
And in the knot of my temples.
Let the arrows strike
With vengeance and repugnance
They do not have the heart
Of gilded susurrations,
They can nick my tawny suit
But never touch the soul
Basking in the prowls
Of a protracted and brazen
Glissando.
Stay, inside my forlorn forest
If you can endure the enigma
And if you can wrangle
With the lashing of
My violent yet pliant chains,
Not of lightning,
But of infinity
In the farcical veneer
Of the moon-kissed eaves
Dispensing all amiable jewelries
Into the sea
Of drudgery.
Hear me feign a tongue-tied roar
And rip myself with electric tongues,
Corrupt these eyes of a child
As I pretend to scamper the wiles
Of the labyrinthine riddles;
I am who I am,
A perplex cacophony,
And the dissonance of the desires
To be heard while whispering
A clandestine interpolation.
Leave and shun the scintillations
Of the lackluster stars
That would remind me
Of you and your lucidity
And wedging distraught,
And of being one amongst
These far-flung constellations.
If you cannot give me
A lion soul,
Stay away and permit me
To pretend that I am
A meandering lion.
poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What we Think of
Walking round our cages like the lions at the
Zoo,
We think of things that we have done, and things
we mean to do :
Of girls we left behind us, of letters that are due,
Of boating on the river beneath a sky of blue,
Of hills we cUmbed together — not always for the
view.
Walking roimd our cages Uke the lions at the Zoo,
We see the phantom faces of you, and you, and
you,
Faces of those we loved or loathed — oh every one
we knew !
And deeds we wrought in carelessness for happi-
ness or rue.
And dreams we broke in folly, and seek to build
anew, —
Walking round our cages like the lions at the Zoo.
poem by Frederick William Harvey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lions Den
You broke my heart, tore it apart
Thought it was cute, thought it was smart
But now Im back and Ive got the strength of ten
So I got a message for you my friend
Chorus:
Im daniel waitin in the lions den
Daniel waitin for that lion to come
Daniel waitin in the lions den
Dum dum dee dum dum dee dee dum dum
That old lions mean and long in the tooth
And like you, baby, hes out on the loose
Messin hearts up time and time again
Well its time for that messin to end
(chorus)
At night I hear you out prowling around
Tearing guys up, scaring em down
Now all that growlings gonna come to no end
cause I m just biding my time, my little friend
(chorus)
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Lions of the darkness
They...dark men
Working in the great power of night
They never walk by the light
Men who make darkness their joy
Woe to them
By the night they feel the happiest
As a versifier I most say the truth
The lions of the night
When the night comes, they come out of their den
With sounding teeth
And mighty claws
Rearranging the house of man
Lions of the night
Putting panic to the heart of man
Collecting taxes which they never deserve
On a faithful day the lions will be prey
By the almighty moulder
Or by men in khaki
Lions of the night...
Sylvan Guest in the Forlorn Forest
As I lay in the resentment of serrated ryes
And beneath the tempest of impaling lances
That I stashed inside the scathing frame
Of my blatant harlequin repose;
Such a sapid filth, such a torment,
A stranger intruded my forlorn forest
Marauding with a flock of gypsies and pixies
Cloven beneath the echoes of her gyratory
Ebullience, submerged in her spruce plumes,
She laid another set of superfluous cards
In a house of marble and sycophantic pillars—
In the form of her vessel; gilded jewelries
Sealed in sprightly paintings and poetries
All for a shambling gambler's ineptitude
And unsheathe a sword of nimble odds
Succoring, caressing, a despondent hand
In an earnest finagling, you've sublimated
An ornate forest into a lustrous Silver Lake
Adorned by a buoyant polished Swan
Pardon my florid tongue, please do not dispense
This guise I feigned inside a poetry into
A brazen, unabashed, and deprived blarney
And I plea, do not err, do not be beguiled
For truth be unfurled, I like you
In the most unromantic fashion
So as to keep it unstained from treachery
And so, one night I opted to fold a letter
And slip it inside the notches of your door
And as I waft in writing you an epistle
About the gaiety, your gaiety, that tinkers
Beneath your wings, do you know that you have wings?
I saw you used it to inscribe and paint
And probe and divulge the unwritten splendor
Basking in every insignificant possessions
I dallied and mused upon your enigmatic grace
Are you the Zephyr: an ubiquitous crooning?
Or a damsel lost between your own lines?
Or a dreamer at the veers of every stroke?
A sanguine nomad in supernovas, or her fancy, thereof?
Perhaps, you are the psychedelic sunrise
Grazing the films of my weary eaves
And I would not permit Atropos or The Sisters
To rust our modest yet pliant chains
And the combing of your seething rays
Beaux of the unnamed king,
That thrones in a museum,
This is what I meant
When I called you a rubber duck,
You are, pleasantly, a guest
Purging an ornate forlorn forest.
poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Burning Waltz
The echoing stupor
trailing the shotgun clout -
a shrilling lament
tearing the filaments apart
in this madhouse dance
among the flames
succumbing to the hysteria
jazzy hands played
the scherzo is a fountain
pouring upwards
from my shickered eyes
A silent gargoyle
watching a caryatid
peal an enigmatic laugh -
an enthralling silence
with a vertiginous pull
girdling the aeons
that flummoxed before
the wan in her eyes
still and quiet
golden as gold
I have become your poise
Have I been dazed
by watching mirrors
become the architect
of sullen bliss?
Legless, I floundered through
the downtrodden path
in an erratic sway
and inebriated rhythm
where streetlamps quell
their faintly tongues
so the subtle hue
of darkness can invite
the weary dreams
to lull and evocate
a burning waltz
to a sedating slumber
an oblivion against
the superfluity of your letters
and terse vengeance -
still, I danced
like my legs knew nothing
but your melody.
poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Lion King
Two lions fought beneath the sun...
Their teeth as sharp as nails
And when their fight was truly done,
One lion tipped the scales.
The other lion fled the scene
And no more would return.
Though savage, wounded, no more keen
The mightier to learn.
The undefeated lion stood
And watched the loser leave.
He didn't think himself as good
And yet he didn't grieve.
This was their way for centuries,
Their ancient remedy.
Their battles for supremecies
Would end each mystery.
They'd never choose alternatives,
Their code they'd never flout.
No matter if one dies, one lives...
They'd fight to end the doubt.
Thus courage burns within their veins...
Volcanoes borne of rage.
Only the winner truly gains
The right to centre stage.
In truth, the winner takes it all.
The loser has no pride.
Although once mighty, doomed to fall,
Then to be cast aside.
Two lions fought beneath the sun...
For them, it was too late,
For soon, there'd only be the one
Who'd live to celebrate.
Each battle scar that's brought to mind,
Reminds him of this day...
The courage he was forced to find...
The price he had to pay...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'The Lion King'.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lion
The lion is called the king
Of beasts. Nowadays there are
Almost as many lions
In cages as out of them.
If offered a crown, refuse.
poem by Kenneth Rexroth from A Bestiary (1956)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy! | In Spanish | In Romanian
A New Flame for the Old Embers
The vapid rain breaking upon the quietude
of the pebbles under our monastic feet
reminds me of the words sent into your halls
ricocheting like a phantom's dying plea -
futilely emitted from the shy rupture,
a premature eruption, to taste the savvy
of disappointments and rueful affinities
How aplomb are the pummeling underneath
the weather's veins - blue and sterile as
the ethers inflamed inside my nights
I fell into a dreamy stupor, loquacious sibilance
stings like a razor from the charred memories
And, through and through, I slide inside
the abortive cradle of fire, wondering
if the flames invoked by the same embers
are alike, or do they dissipate and die
when the rain collapses from its slumber
and leave remnants of its piquant touch to
give birth to another ocean of soldering mirages
In this horizontal vertigo of water and flame,
I instill enigmas into the interpolating leaves
and some other night, under a new moon
I would ruminate awake and bleared: to what
these soughing violins of the trees demand?
Like a thunder whetted by the extremities
of temperature, I hoard all these injuries
and soon would my sun reveal its horns
and the superfluous flames it had hatched
from the brooding upon atrophied ties
Because for now, I can only live inside
the chrysalis of the mind, cicatrizing
the salted wounds and dabbing the
beautiful smears that I shall nurture
to make wings of vanity and, here
I shall dream of flitting back unto
your cavernous firmament like
a defunct chandelier swooning for
your flamboyant palettes, and dream
I shall, until the colors subside and dissolve
into my fastidious realizations
of lacquered flames prancing
above these cold ancient coals.
poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Gutters
It is one of those gray days
That you kneel for the downpour
To remind you of the cold pangs,
To probe for dark rooms where
Numbness hath not yet vacate
And amidst the hail of tears
You'd find yourself breathing,
Sobbing. Shuddering. Suffering.
The thunders were deaf
And muted by its paroxysm,
The lightning was blinded
By its own garish light,
The contemptuous lances fell
Concatenating the clouds
(That I tried to open
And immediately closed)
Into the thirsty earth
For a short-lived eternity
The most disparate angles
Formed a perfect circle
You let the gust beat you and
The tempest to whirl around you
Gripping you in its flimsy hands
And you watched the storm pass
Leaving the ruins in your heart
The sun shone bleakly and
Its superfluous innuendos gyrated
You found yourself besmirched
In the forlorn mud, wading futilely
Like an agog virtuoso haplessly
Reeling souvenirs from places
That are still to be traversed
Without an audience adept
For listening and musing
Drained, tired, lost from vindication
You fall and slither aimlessly
Into the coldest gutters.
poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Together
Two lions lounged without a care...
For neither had a qualm...
This was a moment they could share
And both enjoyed the calm...
This was a time when they could bond
Without the need to fight,
Without the need to hunt beyond
For creatures out of sight...
Two lions lounged, as time ticked by...
With other lions near,
Beneath the sky where eagles fly
And vultures may appear.
And higher still, the sun shone down
Upon the good and bad,
To make some smile, to make some frown,
Yet mostly light to add.
And higher still, God watched it all
Unfolding patiently...
A billion prayers He could recall
From folks like you and me...
Yet He observes the lions, too,
And grants each one a name...
He knows what life would make them do
As life goes on the same.
We only see through human eyes,
Yet God knows everything...
One of these lions will be wise...
He'll grow to be a king...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Together'.
The Stephen Gayford poems can be viewed here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Were I A Lion King
Were I a lion king of the pride how proud a lion I'd be
To think that other lions for miles around are very scared of me
In the stillness of the African night I would roar aggressively
I would not be kind to other lions or in ways act neighbourly
Of the prey the lionesses did kill I would be first to eat
The other members of the pride would have to wait for their share of the meat
The male lion who has compassion will never rule a pride
Of any honour in his life by his attitude self denied
If I were a lion king of the pride the lionesses for me would kill the prey
But if's an obstacle that always does get in the way
Human beings need some aggression in life for to succeed
The timid like the timid lion are not destined to lead
Were I a lion king in the African night I'd give a mighty roar
That would be heard by other lions for two miles distant or more.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psalm 22
Christ's sufferings and exaltation.
Now let our mournful songs record
The dying sorrows of our Lord,
When he complained in tears and blood,
As one forsaken of his God.
The Jews beheld him thus forlorn,
And shake their heads, and laugh in scorn:
"He rescued others from the grave;
Now let him try himself to save.
"This is the man did once pretend
God was his Father and his Friend
If God the blessed loved him so,
Why doth he fail to help him now?"
Barbarous people! cruel priests!
How they stood round like savage beasts!
Like lions gaping to devour,
When God had left him in their power.
They wound his head, his hands, his feet,
Till streams of blood each other meet;
By lot his garments they divide,
And mock the pangs in which he died.
But God, his Father, heard his cry;
Raised from the dead, he reigns on high,
The nations learn his righteousness,
And humble sinners taste his grace.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Am The Night
I am the lightning
And the storm
All hell broke loose
On the night I was born
A child of fire
And burning flames
Look to the east
And youll see hence I came
Might throw you into the darkness
Or save you by the light
Of the moon and stars
Ever shining
Celestial bodies burning bright
Burning bright
I, I am the night
I, I am the night
I am the terror
The beast at large
Heed my warning
Sound the alarm
An endless shadow
For daylight you pray
Lock your doors
But you cannot get away
Tender angels of mercy
How they run from my sight
Eclipsed into darkness
Searching only for the light
For the light
For the light
I, I am the night
I, I am the night
!!thgin ta sevil latem
song performed by by Pantera
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I Did Not Die (Butterfly Vision)
I drempt I was a butterfly
In a hurricane;
The world was the storm,
I just wanted to fly...
The wind controlled
But could not contain me
For I would not quit -
Trees and mountains moved
All was tattered and torn
From the earth's core
To the surface of the moon...
Still I would not quit,
My desire to live, too deep
My heart too sure, too strong...
For years the savage storm raged
On and on...
My wings bent and nearly broken
The suns light gave out, ceasing to shine
Black smoke hid the sky
In that tremulous passing time...
And yet, I refused to die.
Houses crashed
Hearts broke
Indeed, life itself did churn and choke,
All so very lost,
For those who count such cost...
But, not I; No,
I refused to die!
My spirit too strong
My dear dream drempt for so long,
I would not stop
My hope I could not drop
I flew steadily on,
My goal the Western horizon
Where the sun sets bright
And the winds find calm
In the night... and now,
The storm has gone
The dusk so clear
The stars of vision draw ever near
Beckon hope's true dawn,
Sunrise is assured.
Dreams finally realized,
I kept my dream
I would not let it go,
I did not die.
Now, forever freely
May I fly...
I am the air
The wind
The sky!
On my wings shines the sun,
Says it to me: ' Welcome home
Little butterfly, well done.
You never sold your dream, so now
Freedom and lasting love
Are forever yours,
Never again
Will your wings be broken or torn,
By any storm. '
From thus dream
I did there awake,
With a feeling light as air
That nothing has been able to shake.
Now when things around get crazy
And my mind, like my heart
Feels so hurt, its purpose rather hazy,
I close my eyes... and let my soul go
To that far, inner place, where once again,
I am the butterfly
Whom shall never ever die.
poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
GOD's Elephant - Beating Back The Lion...
GOD Pulled The Lion’s Teeth
GOD Crushed The Lion’s Claws
GOD Took The Lion’s Roar
… and made it very small
GOD Tore Off The Lion’s Tail
GOD Cut The Lion’s Mane
‘Til The Lion’s Voracious Voice
Became Lame and Tamed … and Shamed
Because That Lion Was A Coward
That Crazed Lion Was A Bully
Looking Only For The Weak
To Feast On Them Fully
Not Because It Was Hungry
Not Because It Was In Need
Terror Became Its Creed
Because Its Favorite Taste … Was Greed
It Was The Nature Of That Beast
To Be The Enemy Of My Peace
But GOD Changed Me Into An Elephant
When GOD Saw Me On My Knees
That Lion Chose Me As Victim
It Thought I’d Be Irrelevant
Because It Had No Idea …
I’d Become GOD’ Elephant
… I Am One Of GOD’s Messengers
Hear Me Trumpet HIS Sound
See How Christian Courage Charge
and Shake Lions Underground
See My Ivory Tusks Of Hope
Raised High In Silhouette Moonlight
Gleaming As I Spoke
My Prayers Thru Every Night
See My Ears So Huge To Cool
Fiery Heat That Must Come
Caressing My Full Faith Form
As Heart Beats A Thunder-Drum
GOD Gave Me Wings Of The Wind
GOD Gave Me Echoes Of The Sea
Gave Me A Stand Like A Snowcapped Mountain
And A Trunk Like A Baobab Tree
Yes … GOD Gave Me Two Lightning Spears
GOD Gave Me Two Winged Shields
GOD Gave Me An Earth-Arced Back
To Fearlessly Bear HIS Will …
As GOD Watches Over My Rivers
GOD Guards My Misty Rainbow
GOD Has Shone On All My Dawns
and All Victories Over My Foes …
… and The Lions Came With Stealth
Fierce Lions Came Every Hour
They Thought This Prey Would Cower
While This Pachyderm, They’d Devour
Lions Came With Uncanny Power
They Came With Their Pride Of Lions
But Snarls & Snaps Were No Match
For The Song-Sung To Heavenly Zion
and GOD Cracked The Lion’s Jaw
GOD Strangled The Lion’s Throat
GOD Took The Meat Out Of Its Mouth
and Tore The Tongue Out Of Its Gloat
GOD Sapped The Lion’s Strength
GOD Broke The Lion’s Back
and Thru A Million Stars … I Will Tell
How GOD … Stopped The Lions’ Attack
I Am GOD’s Elephant
The One They Came To Ingest
and Tho’ They Jumped & Scratched & Bit
I Shook Lions Off Like Insects
Yes, I Shook Lions Off My Back
I Turned Their Roars Around
I Hurled It Back In Their Faces
and Stomped Them Below – Down
… Those Lions Say There Is No God
Yet, They Worship Their Belly and Dollars
They’ll Wish They Hunted For The Truth
When They Starve In Their Lair Of Liars
Those Lions Claim There Is No God
As They Bow Down and Feed On Other Things
They Are On The Prowl As Thieves
Trying To Steal Crowns From Kings
and GOD Himself Will Come Free Us
From The World’s Ring-Master’s Circus
and Lead Us To A Land So Lush
Where Footpads Can Again Grow Plush
… I March Thru Jungles Of Jericho
My Huge Head Is Shaking To and ‘Fro
Listen To My Blessed Bellow
Which Made Lions Sound Like Mosquitoes
Because I Am GOD’s Elephant
The Lions Will Learn Not To Push
For You Can’t Move Or Make Bent Or Rush
A Big Believer From The Burning Bush
I Am GOD’s Elephant
Behemoth Brave, Yet Delicate
My Mammoth Memory Will Not Forget
… That I Am GOD’s Elephant
To Holy Water I Journey To Make It
Then Even My Burial Mound Will Be Sacred
No Predator Nor Poacher Can Take It
Our Graveyard, GOD Won’t Forsake It …
I Am GOD’s Elephant
I Hold A Memory For GOD’s Wrath To Come
I Am GOD’s Elephant
My Trumpet Sounds Forth To Warn
I Am GOD’s Elephant
I’m Calling Out My Testament
and A Portrait Of An Elephant
Is On My Crest To Time Indefinite …
From The Ancient Of Days
To Future Events
I Do Admit
I Am GOD’s Elephant
and GOD Pulled The Lion’s Teeth
GOD Crushed The Lion’s Claws
GOD Took The Lion’s Roar
… and made it very small
GOD Tore Off The Lion’s Tail
GOD Cut The Lion’s Mane
‘Til The Lion’s Voracious Voice
Became Lame and Tamed … and Shamed
… Before & For HIS Elephant …
Written & ©: 7/26/10
By: The MoonBee
poem by MoonBee Canady
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Wayward Dreams
Last night a dream cast a shadow
Over my all too empty bed,
That an angel had lost her way
A wayward woman wanderin'.
Troubled, bewildered, and forlorn,
Dark, confused, weary she appeared
Over many a mumbled word,
Soundin' heart-broke, I heard her say:
‘Oh my wayward dreams! do they cry,
Do they hear their lover sighin'?
Do they not see what we have lost,
Will they not stop and weep for me? '
Her tears fell as I came closer:
I took her hand and drew her near,
And said, ‘Wail not into the night
For your plight and mine are the same.
‘That which was once held can be found,
That which was once found can be ours:
Follow me, we will find the way;
Back to our wayward dreams and home! '
poem by MacGregor Tagliaferro
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Birth of the Lion Man
And he was a man with revealing sylvan eyes.
Sad, wandering, eager-eyes swathed with sagacity.
Coy he was, like an eagle in the wild; aversive but suspicious.
He is not a child, but he is less than a man.
A critique and a wonderer loathing his own skin
At the top of his head, he watched people
He watched them flash harlequin smiles at each other
Smiles that harmed his eyes like polarized lights
And he remained aloof, preserved to his flightless dignity.
His nest a bare warren of pride and fear
Every leaf of the book he turned with dismal eloquence
Disgusted with the filth of the forged layer
He desires to strip them, undress them
To crack the cynic Monalisa smile and the soul submerged beneath.
A spin-off awaits to swivel as he walked the cobbled streets
Unmasked, but masked with forced vulnerability.
Strutting the town like the lazy-pacing clouds,
Invading skies like searing rays of light
Her lucid radiance in the kind afternoon
Ruptured like pyrotechnics shooting with sparks
She's a mirror, bursting with luminescence.
In a town confined within tedious time
Her presence invoked a prism of hope.
Whipping and lashing everything in a subtle vigor,
Bending the sealed harlequin smiles to transparency
An enigma superior than the moon, magnetizing
She walked the core of the earth with eyes of a periscope.
Her light caught his bronze frame and he almost burned
A light so flustering, it revealed his concealed omnipotence
She is a drug; a ladder to the vertex
To the grounds of liberation,
The freedom of the Lion.
poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Soul Cages
The boy child is locked in the fishermans yard
Theres a bloodless moon where the ocean died
A shoal of nightstars hang fire in the nets
And the chaos of cages where the crayfish lie
Where is the fisherman, where is the goat?
Where is the keeper in his carrion coat?
Eclipse on the moon when the dark bird flies
Where is the child with his fathers eyes?
There are the soul cages these are the soul cages
Hes the king of the ninth world
The twisted son of the fog bells toll
In each and every lobster cage
A tortured human soul
These are the souls of broken factories
The subject slaves of the broken crown
The dead accounting of old guilty promises
These are the souls of the broken town
These are the soul cages these are the soul cages
These are the soul cages these are the soul cages
i have a wager the brave child spoke
The fisherman laughed, though disturbed at the joke
you will drink what I drink but you must equal me
And if the drink leaves me standing,
A soul shall go free
i have here a cask of most magical wine
A vintage that blessed every ship in the line
Its wrung from the blood of the sailors who died
Young white bodies adrift in the tide
and whats in it for me my pretty young thing?
Why should I whistle, when the caged bird sings?
If you lose a wager with the king of the sea
Youll spend the rest of forever in the cage with me
These are the soul cages these are the soul cages
These are the soul cages these are the soul cages
A body lies open in the fishermans yard
Like the side of a ship where the iceberg rips
One less soul in the soul cages
One last curse on the fishermans lips
These are the soul cages these are the soul cages
These are the soul cages these are the soul cages
Swim to the light swim to the light
He dreamed of the ship on the sea
It would carry his father and he
To a place they could never be found
To a place far away from this town
A newcastle ship without coals
They would sail to the island of souls
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!