Iron Eyes
Divulge yourself in my language
Speak of forked tongues that can masticate
Imagery with psychedelic blades
And swallow these swords so you can tell me
That I have eyes of iron
That I am blind but I can pretend to believe
That I can perceive in full colors
From sapphire, to eau-du-nil, to claret
And if you are malleable enough
To sink in my impermeability
And nibble on my waxing vision
Then I will permit you, in my elbow to my anteroom
Suffice enough to fracture my vision
And enrapture my eyes of iron
My eyes that can decipher decoys
My vision that can perforate veils and halos
I would gladly fall in a slumber
And in acquiescence I shall fumble
To bolt my callous eyes
And dwell within the perimeter
Of your coherent liminalities
Seasoned of pseudo-animosity
The facile art blotted of acrimony
May be adequate to coerce valiancy
Whenever, we could go now
To anywhere but the down town
Where everyone knows who we are
How we are damned and surmised to expire
Lead me down the Mediterranean Gulf
A sanctuary in the grazing sea
And I can ponder inside your bountiful fingers
Of callas that would cloy my cellars
And though we cannot swim
We would be buoyed by our belief
That we have feet of street lamps
That blaze aglow so no one would trample
If we pretend like lovers lost in time
Could we hold the sun perched in burning leaves
Of ivories and ebonies, of a tatterdemalion gypsy?
In daylight, I would feign that I can see
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poem by Norman Santos
Added by Poetry Lover
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