Jeepney
From places I scavenge and assemble verve
To places where I depreciate with the anthology,
The jeepney was an unfettered sailing to ferry me
While riding the undaunted wind that winnows
The opulence of the foliage of the old nirvana
In shunning the places of my incarceration.
I was moored on my uncomfortable repose
As the wind lathers into the pockmarks of my face
From the scars to the viscera to what lies yonder beneath
And I sauntered in my mind map without staggering
That I savvy this propelling with an ethereal verve.
Alcohol and conversations could be too cloying
But the I suppose it is better than nothing
Though I still prefer the latent spaces in time
Where I rode the jeepney in the most precious instance
Halting in the equinox of late night and early dawn
And defying the clockwork's fey steerage,
Where I can become ubiquitous in all places like
The wind that drove me into the clandestine places
Inside the jeepney but all over the scalp
Of a weary wandering pounding heart.
In this lapses of life, where I am not participating
In the jocund cotillion of vim and vigor
But neither alone in the boudoir of squalor,
I go closer to the gloaming without burning,
Watch the wind alter in prismatic shades,
And grow wings for conquering a parade.
As I am ferried to different timelines
With varied proportions and profane frameworks
Chasing taillights, watching the darkness erode
The city scrapes the sky to divulge my home
Not amongst the distant sundered lights
But in the latent spaces of time by the window.
Home is where I belong, home is yawning far-flung
For my home is in the lapses of my life,
Sauntering past the decadence
In a cosmic gypsies' voyage
While being present in the absence
In the mobility of the jeepney
I subsist in the nonexistence.
poem by Norman Santos
Added by Poetry Lover
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