Pseudo-Romanticism
If lips shall lock,
hands be bolted,
should eyes be closed?
Should souls be soused
in ice, in fire, in electric shivers?
The scintillating intermingling
would linger deep
etched to never cease
like how poetries seal
the bashful emotions,
the reticent desires,
and the feral suffering
Teach me how
to lull your tremors;
what scull your waves
and funnels your vertigo?
Teach me how
to paint your bliss
and erode your malaise
for I know nothing
but the honesty in
entangling strings,
and eloquent attraction
Teach me how to pry
behind your perfumes
and the buds of your
daffodils and carnations
The mellifluous quartz
would recognize my weight
if I can carry you
as I trespass shadows,
chase vicissitude and
molest limitations
But you have to teach me -
Instill knowledge in my
deterred incarceration
if knowledge is important
in romanticism
Or perhaps
all you need is
to unfurl a face,
your empty hands,
your crimson lips
[...] Read more
poem by Norman Santos
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