Hands On Deck
The tides resurrected
And mangled with the undulation
A salient limn on my vision
Where power engulfs power,
Water condenses water,
Paroxysm crashes paroxysm;
Willowing the bouffant steerage
To descry the eviscerating road
In the ocean's trifling ablution
That sifted the luster of the reflection
In the palm of the sea's moiré
Leaving me astray and demented in the vesper
Of my flustering resolution
This is a peripatetic sailing
In the chagrined tongue of contingency
Shooting sundered quasars blindly
In the raucous rocking of the sea
That debilitates my recalcitrant heart
Rectified like the stones ashore
Excoriated by the constant slathering
Of the frothing waves
Flowing, ebbing, erring, fading
Leaving a malignant sheen
To vex the firm gradients of a feint
To delude the fastidious weather
I brought a compass from Atlantis
To flounder in lubricious skates
In the transverse behest of the callow water,
A compass with a turgid hand
Pointing to the inflected horizon
Shrouding the inclement songs
Of the siren's harangue,
An opposing limn on my ears
Digressing the secret subterfuge
To subsist the slumbering pathos
And to moor the soul to the body
With the ersatz felicity
Of silent screaming breaths
Hands on deck, heart on gallows,
Soul pouncing in the trident tides,
Loneliness sitting in the dark
Preyed and devoured by your loneliness
To survive the ocean hunger,
Bleakly lone in the incarcerating capitulate
Where the soul drown inside the body
As the ship ferry me away
Far from your distant memories
[...] Read more
poem by Norman Santos
Added by Poetry Lover
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