3 Legged Races

The insulated melody
Of the dripping spigot
And the restless weather vane
Drops tranquility in fathoms
That can make an ocean
Vast of wondering
Instigating a stride
Into a walk, a haste, where
Another leg is welcomed
Whilst you endure the lack
Of company in the ethereal
Highway of romantic jargons
And the tales in your skin
Ran down like the insulated melodies
Of disquietude devoid of
Tranquility, it flashes down
Like virulent kerosene
Sifting through lacerations
And yearning saliently
To burn the virgin lamentations
Reckon infinitely and
Convince the maladies
To crawl back in the nightmares
That haunts on unconscious states
And vie to steadfast into
The eager eyes riveted
In the horizon where
You belong and these thoughts
Ousted, run in a steady pace
Unencumbered by another leg
And do not trip crumbling
To lose their paces
Into the vale, faceless

poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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