Eden
I woke up asleep in the turbulent saturation
Of masking skins and the esoteric sensation
Of my head in a garrote solving geometric equations
The answers burst into the harried ducts
Clogging the sojourn of pulsating blood
But the more it floods, the more I flail in grasps
Lost in the chase of the body and soul
Insufficient of maps for empathy's anatomy
I claw into the viscera of the wandering bards
Hoping to scrape in the nonchalant penchant
For the hedonistic hunger eagerly fed
Subduing the treacle of genuine ardor
And the treason between the hallow bones
I wonder what drove saints into the crucifix
Do they wrangle and bicker with apathy
Were their tongues calloused for the taste
Of the carnal apples inveigling preemptions?
What triumph do they bequeath in blood and air?
Basking in corporeal desiccation: the true death
Impeding an irrevocable demise for the ethereal
Chance of perpetuity, infidelity, love of divinity
What curse it is to be alone in the crimson sea
To have not swallowed the forbidden seed;
What throttling force is the ignorance in
Knowing to feel more than what ought to be
Defragmenting the wisdom that the saints become
And defacing the flamboyance of a flame
Akin to the painful trance prancing agog;
What kingdom awaits for those who averted
The Garden of Eden and its splendid braze
I am deluded in the corners of this montage
I wonder with the abjured imposition,
Fractured and hapless as the sky's vapor
Clean as the sordid veneer of berserk bloodshed
I rummage in the mud, rolled without a heart
And left my soul in the impermeable ajar
Of Eden's foreign gossamer carnal palms
poem by Norman Santos
Added by Poetry Lover
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