We Are Countless

The furlough of the pendulum's waltz
Descanted the dreams that kept me awake
Skylarking with unnecessary words
From the mouth of a truant woman -

The woman that gave birth to the night
And its enigmatic tresses and secrets
The echoes of her lullaby left unheeded
In her deadlocked bassinet of gelid slumber

Hovering in the many clouds above
The malingering sky above our gazebo
Roofless and skinless, divulging to the stars
Closer to eternity, even closer to the knives

We quiver with every plucking lull
Ejaculating many a name for a color
In this scathed pallor of our hearts
We are yellow, we are white, we are many
And the shadows are driven away
Chased by our infinite chortles
Indulged in a saccharine dream
That intimidates the sharpest blades

So on and on, we quiver
Without the shrilling blade
Athwart our daunted necks
Our skins and bones exposed
To the unabashed exploration of depth
Until our yellow eyes poured
Into the empty basin taunted
By the soundless lightning
And faceless thunders.

poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!