Of Liberation

Holy these shackles of utopian citadel,
Profane this constant vying in veils,
Sine of great filters to parcel
The lifeless body from the ageless soul
We resume our astray meander
As seraphs round their patios above
And fiends lurk and beat around the bushes
Yonder this finite circumference
Calculating the starved preying,
Pouring more dreams in the cloying
We kneel before carnivals with sentiments
And flounder hazily with the cinders
Of charred scripts in escritoires
Come, breathe in the daunted air
To congeal a leonine heart
And stand in the piercing pinnacle
Of a robust warfare between
Existence, angels, demons and
The hedonistic souls capitulated
Inside the labyrinth of this poetry
Sway your macadamized legs
With the pendulums of serendipity
Only to beat its maladroit pace
And efface the wrought definition
Of brooding poverty and the pallid
Concoction of virulent errs and flaws
We are the rings that bind the ladders
And the slither of the escalating serpents
That the rolling dice pawned for the gambling
For the consummated liberation—
Not in the abeyance of breathing,
Or the instigation of the thawing
Into the road-killing interpolation
That slathers our heaving veins
Pulsating infidel songs and verses
Hold on in the gnarling prayer
And as we touch the tangerine gloaming
We'll morph into the crimson slicing
The demise of our days and nights
And we will become the syllabication
Of our infinite swansong soaring
With the utter of hallelujah!

poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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