Averting a Searing Phalanx
The sun gouged my adamantine
Slivers pocketed in the seams
And the vacuous horizon stripped
A trident of dour and putrid lie
Now, inexorable from a conceited defeat
I wore a moue of malady underneath
Subdued by mediocre tragedies:
A harlequin married to tyranny
Divorced from subtlety,
A maudlin to a flagrant guise
But deemed rather empty
In this highway of turbulent mesh
Of reveries and sequenced episodes
I saunter juxtaposed perilous codes
In the sinewy sans of raging coupés
Exuding a stymied complacence
Whilst feigning a lustful sedation
But in the protracted road
Where no eyes dare roll
Slithering into seclusion
I shall mount my sole gracefully
Cautious and averting the imperceptible
Searing jabs of a colossal phalanx
Sometimes geared as swans,
Often beguiled as rams
I would roll with the dice
And its rigorous corners
Half a heart beating,
Half a heart malingering:
A truant skipping
One less tragedy.
poem by Norman Santos
Added by Poetry Lover
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