Treading The Choreography Of The Water
Underneath the cessation of the strident choreography
Of the waters that we treaded - now flat and asleep -
We harked the last note of the sparrow's garrulous song
And the initiation of the soughing of the swarthy leaves
That resembled the stropping of the daunted tongue
That we kept like keys to our clandestine doors
And unsheathed like knives that rose with alacrity
We mused and basked in this decade of vexing silence
Listening to the same stillness and interpolating architectures
But solving different equations with different visions
And as we speak through the grinding pebbles under our feet
We only harry the penultimate flare of the apprehensive dusk
So we can succumb into our individual darkness,
So we can bleed and revel in different places;
Because we can only be faithful with our infidelities
And this savageness that we deny and slept with
Burns out the hapless and sedentary peace that remained.
The clarity that scintillates with the luminaries
Are sundered preventing the eruption of the radiance
That will sharply speak of the ugly truth and madly strip
The sedative rivers of anguish in the forced scars
Because we had prayed for the dark to mantle
Our faces that had already watched the final march
And heard the swansong of the trumpets that are
Still to be commanded by the ashen and bony moon
Soused in the inebriating taste of the waters we treaded.
The dark found its fiendish repose and prowled
Like a panther lurking behind the veiling malignance
Of our self-incarceration and self-love, rivaling
The thwarting chances roaming this evil world
And unleashing the apologetic grips of the manacles
That shudders in our wrists like promises, thus
We decay bloating in this feral growth of self-sympathy
Forgetting and unlearning the water's choreography
And little did we know: we toppled to the unbeknownst
The dark vesper was a munificent curtain
Shrouding our ravenous differences
That spliced a vale in our juxtaposition
Because this ignorance and complacence
Deems itself an auspicious proposition
When you pointed an enraptured saber
To a motionless archenemy beside you
To exonerate a third warfare and the vale
Deluged with a war cry - a cry that spoke of
The night losing his nacreous moon amidst
The plethora of flitting stars and songs,
A cry that broke the chains of innocence
And molted blindness that rampaged in a wrath,
A cry that plead to go back in the capitulating circles
Of loneliness in togetherness; and it submerged
With tired saline water and haughty zephyrs
Until the recuperation of wounds steeled
With our adamant convicted obstinacies
The water tension drooped with our altered weight
And as our souls assailed into foreign places separately
This infinite nights' prolonged suffering can only endeavor
To keep our bodies together - forked by the same sword
Across the sea, the mountain pass, the prairie
You will hear the sirens beckon to you to drown
And I hope that you will find me hiding
In the smattering and the echoing suppurations -
A haunting memory, an evocative loss, or
Not remember my songs at all.
poem by Norman Santos
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Related quotes
Sleep
The nights is an opaque curtain
Asleep solemnly before your eyes
Out shadowing the dark terrors
That basks in the chambers of the heart
An emollient and puissant sine
Sundering the obdurate chains
Where you contend to coil
Denser, closer to the knives
Vulnerably, haplessly cloyed and
Shriveled in the fingertips of fear
Raving in the darkness.
Look in your adamant eyes
The surface, taut, is blind
Look with your iron eyes
Where the fathom, gnarled, is sank
And the vision is deluded
Beyond repair, a lucid dream
That vied to breathe with flesh
And walk with saccharine feet
Chained in a klutz defeat
Deliberately misbegotten
Look at the myriad of faces
Sunken in a peremptory vale
Of abortive sorrows' impales
And temporal bliss' tales
And then to your riveted sole
Worn out and shuddering
To give up and to fall
Into this abyss of infinite dreaming
I invite you, come away,
To mend some sleep
And let go of vicissitude
And its impassable clockwork
Close your eyelids and
Feign a separate peace
For you have suffered long
From sleeping awake
Defenestrate your beliefs
Into the garden of lies
And they shall bloom
To flirt with butterflies
Now you're emancipated
From a putrid demise
Trust only the moon
The light in the dark
That reveals it errs
In her phosphorescent skin
Blatant and wanton
Amidst sharp and shrilling
Garrulous buds of dandelions
Whittling her ever more
More than a silver disc
But a mirror in slivers
Never promising bliss
Or perpetuity and consistency
Let her lull you, tame you
In the pedagogy of her heraldry
Waning in form and beauty
In the cradle of her crescent
Desecrate fervently
These golden manacles
Of fastidious ties
Sprawled in the galaxies
Or the sundered parties
Romantic as knives
Shall incinerate in her
Stark silver beam
And these black tears
Will dry out from the streams
That ran hurriedly
From the iron's fiendish grip
They cannot demand on you
Now, sever their cold touch
Of mendaciloquence
Before they make you bow
And submit without defense
Posses the vesper,
Usurp the calm
As you fall asleep
And rejuvenate your
Stained defiance to
False-believing,
Sleep, sleep.
poem by Norman Santos
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How Lovely Is The Dark Tonight
The strident lights of the night
Watched the uneventful soliloquy
With pensive restriction from
Trying not to careen to deeply
Because these sly sentries hide
Its surreptitious espionage from us
But if you will stare back at the nacreous
And beguiling eyes of the vesper
You will find how immense it grew
From the feeding with jealous visions
The undulating air rolled soundly
Rising like a leaded tongue
And spitting blue ether and red water
And ironic palettes and metallic letters
That spoke of many unspoken secrets -
Trivialities that destructs the fantasy,
The misbegotten innocence and
Enraptures a wrathful malcontent
Drowning in an electric fire
The tactlessly swept stars pointed
The voices bouncing the haggled earth
And the enigma shrouding the ostentation
Of the darkness sways like a pendulum
Enthralling you to its drowsy spell
Because the night had many niceties
Sly as the hands veiled behind
Her darkest tresses but if you comb
And commiserate with her cries
You will fall in love with her quintessence:
A riddle I cannot fathom
Spiced by her jovial invitation
And her masquerading misery.
poem by Norman Santos
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Do Not Rest On The Laurels Of Your Head
we get old
the laurels mean no more
they become irritants
to the lines in our forehead
we finally let go
of these decors
we take the chances of
negating fame
embracing the privacy
of the walk
beside the hills
feeling the stones on our bare feet
touching the winds
and listening to its roars
wading to the waters
getting wet
and then take the much missed
plunge
we wish we are gone somewhere
to places
where no one finds us
where we look at no shadows
we stare
at the sunset
and then find the silence of
the coming darkness
perhaps the moon shall be full
perhaps the stars will gather in magnificence
perhaps we can love again
loneliness like the grass that we cannot uproot
amidst the daisies
they become part of us
they become us
in love and tolerance
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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Tsunami
From the slumber deep, the Lord Monster awoke,
The subterranean walls, the doors of hovel He broke,
Unleashing the force of mighty muscles, and limbs,
“Intend I to see the world.” to the Vice He spoke.
Then yawned and rubbed His eyes and said good bye,
To the assistants sat loathing in the dark hovel nearby,
With the heavy bulky back He up rose like an Iceland,
Pushing water, rather emptying, throwing to the sky.
He came out, and abased in the sea-water knee deep.
Disturbed waters making commotion began to sweep,
The structures of the houses with the dynamic force,
That instantly turned them into rubble, and trash heap.
The waves travelled engulfing the lands all around,
Some were sucked by waters, some lay on the ground,
They floated, bloated, oscillated with the cold waves,
Some cried aloud, some uttered no voice, no sound.
The grief they suffered will remain till centuries green,
No one can overpower the tides of fate, Man has seen.
The Lord Monster seeing bodies like autumn leaves,
Dived He again back in sleep and wake between.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Imperative Movement
Water
Shining
Dark night
Who’s that walking past?
Only shadow on the moving waters!
Dark silence
Speaking silence
Between the shadow
And me…
One moving
On the moving waters
Me
On the dark earth
Inimitable darkness
Imperative movement!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Untitled pieces III
Untitled pieces III
My feet hanging from the roof,
I sit staring at the sky,
Some stars twinkling far away,
The moon drowned in the dark,
The trees so silent-leaves motionless,
Strike a chord-the music begins!
I see my shadow evolve in the field,
Much longer - much darker than me,
Reminding me of those golden days,
Much shorter-much happier than today,
A joy in my heart-a bunch of friends,
Sang songs of life-brought life in life!
The breeze brings in a scent of solitude,
The silent trees have lulled the birds asleep,
The motionless leaves have hidden the fruits,
The faint moon has emptied the sky,
There is a void in the air,
As I reflect on my toy of thoughts.
Will I be lost like those fruits in the dark?
Will I be drowned like the moon in solitude?
Will I be silent like those trees?
Will I be motionless like those leaves?
The night is devilish bringing thoughts of end,
Like those twinkling stars passing into nothingness.
poem by Saket Suman
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Eyes Of Mr D (Part 4)
Entering the flat
the Constable found no one there.
He searched every room,
nothing, only the fired gun on a note
left on the table.
He had noticed the back window
was left slightly ajar.
He picked up the note
and quickly read it through,
then put it in his pocket
along with the gun.
He smiled to the neighbour
as he left the flat.
He told her to lock it;
Mr D would be coming back.
At the car he got in
saying that,
they had to go back
to the station.
He sat on a bench
near the waters edge.
The white walking stick
resting between his legs.
He could not look at his watch,
as that would give the game away.
A blind man is not supposed to see,
so he had no idea of the time.
All he could tell
that day was turning into night.
He stood up;
he had to stretch his legs.
He moved along to
the bench by the bridge.
The dark waters of the lake,
lapped against the shore.
Then he heard the footsteps
walking across the wooden bridge.
He knew by the sound
they were of a woman’s shoe.
He did not look up
to see who it was,
just listened, as they got closer,
until they were in front of him.
He could now see her face,
under the light of the moon.
Her hair was dark,
and danced on her shoulders.
He wanted to say something,
but though he better not.
The killer could be lurking,
in the bushes somewhere,
waiting for his chance,
when he thought
the coast was clear.
She stopped and stood,
near the waters edge;
she watched the moon’s silver finger
dance on the breeze-ruffled waves.
He sat unnoticed except
for his white walking stick.
The blind could see nothing
at least that is what he hoped
anyone passing would think.
Then from the darkness, he emerged.
A mask of death he wore.
He moved quietly up behind the woman,
extended his hands out to her neck.
To be concluded……
poem by David Harris
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Death Was Pure
When moon will wash my doors
I will come out in night
to find you in dark
and lose you in light.
Does it resonate with you
O my truth
O my pain
time has moved back.
My love whitens the shadow
of a black rose in the nakedness of waking.
Do not want to disappoint the sun
and enter into a grain.
I am the stillness and I am
the noise. Motherless I am born
in black water
of immaculate death.
poem by Satish Verma
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Inevitable
When the stars held hands
And slow danced in the blear
Of the lazy purple clouds and
The mistral mantle of fog
Ominous without her moon
Comes creeping with a beckon
The disquietude expands
Into the room of the future
And the clock's hands swooned
Into each other like dead bodies
Toppling like walls of dominoes
Malingering for the final clout
And the consummate abeyance
And inside, I cringe with the void
And hollow bones, for I know not
Of the Promethean key they spoke of
I cannot resume my saunter
In the semantic of romaticism
Surmising a hopeful trepidation
Is but another dry stick thrown
Into the pyre soused in kerosene
Waiting for my back to lay
Tired from the gallows, tired to pray
Yet, enduring or not, I do dream
Of days pacified by chaste bliss
I dream of love as I dream of marigolds
That never have I touched nor seen
Or wonder if they have claws and thorns
To safeguard its frangible corona
I dream as I wake up asleep
From sleeping awake,
Of love, loving and in return
And whilst the lunatics peer
Into the gelid window pane
Traversing the lattices
To find the supple flood
Of their ashen moon's hair
poem by Norman Santos
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Looking for Water
Still the leaves are spinning 'round
Take my hand as we go down, and down, and down
Looking for water
Well, our light's gone in a New York minute
Don't know about you, but my heart's not in it
(Looking, looking, looking)
I'm looking for water
I'm looking for water
(Looking, looking, looking)
I can't breathe the air, can't raise a fact
'Cause all we've got left is a beat in the night, and I'm
(Looking for water)
Looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
Take my hand as we go down, and down
Leave it all behind, nothing could be found
(I'm, looking for water)
I'm looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
(I, looking for water)
Looking everywhere
(Looking for water)
Looking here and there
(I'm looking for water)
I'm looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I can't live in this cage, I can't eat this candy
The edge of the earth to the spin in my head
The look in your eyes and never means never
The dawn's early light, baby, dark is forever
(Looking, looking)
(Looking, looking)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
song performed by by David Bowie, music by David Bowie, lyrics by David Bowie from Reality
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I No Longer Sing The Songs Of Societal Significance
i no longer sing your songs of societal significance
i have forgotten them
honestly, i do not remember a word
i cannot even hum the tune of your songs of protest
(our songs)
against the government, honestly, i do not like them anymore
even if i remember
all i remember are unnecessary, premature, untimely deaths
of friends
of our self-made revolutions when we were so young and full
of idealism
in our hearts
now i dim
like a dying light
tempted by the shining sun of new rules and
the philosophy of
mature contentment
i no longer climb your mountains, i no longer walk the long walks
on dark nights, passing the snake rivers
and gorilla forests and monkey trees and slippery fins of fish
and eels and
eagles,
i no longer have your callous feet
i cannot remember you
you ask me
if i love you still, i cannot remember, i have none of your bravery
honestly,
i have become this coward cloud, raining
regrets
the peace that i do not deserve
the hiding
in open places, without a name, without a trace,
mouth shut, tongue clipped,
and then you walk away
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dark Covering
The moon is getting a dark covering of the dark clouds. See, the moon suddenly vanished. How should I reach to my moon now? She has turned to be so far away and the night is completely dark. This night has been captured with suffering. Darkness of soul, darkness of night has left a haunting mark to my present. You feel I am a cheat? No, I did not cheat you. True, I forever was and till the end will be. Only you I had in my mind and heart. Lost I have myself, she was never mine. Love does hurt like hell.
poem by Rohit Sapra
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A Dream Of Water Moon!
Cool bright Moon shines bright in the Starry night Sky!
Dreams of Moon absorb poets, scientists, lovers, all!
Even in Honey Moon dream of water Moon never dries!
Polluting water on Earth man searches water in Moon!
Physical feature is contrasting between Earth and Moon!
Green vegetation, blue water and white ice make Earth
Unique with atmosphere all round protecting it forever!
Sands, rocks with ice at tips Moon is sans atmosphere!
Rotating itself Earth revolves round the Sun night or day;
But Moon’s bright side and dark side are fixed forever!
The mystery of dark side Moon is in suspense since long;
The frozen sides of Moon are – 238 degrees is still chilling!
Water Moon has indeed become a great interest for all and
Many nations are vying with one another to see water there!
poem by Ramesh T A
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This Night God My Soul Photographs
you can find me across that beautiful water
you cannot walk on in shades of beautified
black white in those last final seconds of dust
before true night descends to hide still water
earlier countless waves ran onto this shoreline
an ocean breathed gentle blessings onto land
reds yellows oranges flamed a burning sunset
stars twinkle flame cosmic songs into my mind
there is a restless energy awake infusing me
full moon calls movement motion in my stride
bathed in moonlight hear stars songs of night
dark spaces between stars thrill each patterned
wonder this night God my soul photographs
in light flashes imbues my breath air ionized
writes hieroglyphs through energy mind's eye
how why reason habit God delight snapshots
you can find me across that beautiful water
far across sky power of distant serene seas
in mountains peaks speaks beauty this world
touch rarified sky read touch creation secrets
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Water can sustain life (but not for him)
Water can sustain life, , but not for him,
Water took his life, he never learned to swim;
Too many children, too many early deaths,
Water claimed their souls and dying breaths.
A fraction of a second, is all it takes,
Pools, canals and man-made lakes.
The greatest loss, is to the very young,
Their songs are finished, and left unsung,
Water refreshes the body no more,
The spark of life has exited the final door.
Water can sustain life, but not your daughters,
There is no such thing as 'our safe waters.'
The greatest loss, is unfinished growing,
The biggest loss, is always knowing,
Knowing your boy or girl is dead,
Wishing it were you instead.
poem by David Lessard
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The World's Indifference
when the river runs out of water
she sings the sweetest songs still at the side of the bank
no one convinces her to give up the hope of
the coming rain
when the sea comes with a storm
when the wind becomes one rebellious form
she sits calmly under the palm and patient with the foam
she knows what price is there in the waiting
she knows the ebbing flow of the tides
the colors of the fading sun
the magical show of darkness and the moon
the stillness of the waters in the marshes
she, like the sleep of the migrating birds
on the lilies,
contains the boldness
of the stork
firm in that resolve to
loneliness
'nothing lasts forever' she gladly accepts,
offering her smile to the world that has remained
indifferent and cruel.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Water Under The Bridge
The sun repents and we vied
to make the loose ends meet
but our knots would not tie
like how our burned bridges did
As I craned to peek underneath
this coaxing pensiveness
the water under the bridge
revealed the mirrors in my eyes:
Discontent is a serpent
with venomous heads on both ends
and many a gnarl on the abdomen
but this titivation cannot be corrected
Satisfaction is the quelling
of ardor flames that burned the stars
and scintillated their insinuation
and should I lie to submission?
The clockwork gears won't
carry the burden alone and time
will pillage all these afterthoughts
until the terse anticipation is decapitated
There is injury and the old bones
are slow to heal and the constitutions
are made to believe and paid to lie
that the cessation of war cannot repair
But recuperation shall come
and leave deep and haunting scars
and regret will teach us, mend us
into our separate devices
Because we cannot make corrections
into our trampled paths,
but the future has its light on
to wash the shadows of the past
To bleed in different places
and smile for varied phases
is better than to drown inside
the isles of our own wrathful revenge
And I will keep on looking back
the water under this lonely bridge
waiting for the familiar resurgence
that buoyed familiar things.
poem by Norman Santos
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High Water
Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee and alex lifeson
When the waters rose
In the darkness
In the wake of the endless flood
It flowed into our memory --
It flowed into our blood
When something broke the surface
Just to see the starry dome --
We still feel that relation
When the water takes us home
In the flying spray of the ocean
The water takes you home --
Springing from the weight
Of the mountains
Like the heart of the earth
Would burst
Flowing out from marble fountains
In the dreams of a desert thirst
Something swam through
The jungles
Where the mighty rivers roam --
Something breaks the silence
When the water takes you home
I hear the wordless voices
When the water takes me home --
Waves that crash on the shoreline
Torrents of tropical rain
Streaming down
Beyond our memory
Streaming down inside our veins
When something left the ocean
To crawl high above the foam --
We still feel that elation
When the water takes us home
In a driving rain of redemption
The water takes me home...
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Night Song
Over nocturnal dark floods
I sing my sad songs,
Songs which bleed like wounds.
However, no heart carries them to me again
Through the darkness.
Only the nocturnal dark floods
Rush, sob my songs,
Songs which bleed from wounds,
They carry them to my heart again
Through the darkness.
poem by Georg Trakl
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