Feel Good Haze IV
Songs by the machines
I do not understand nor care
Your lips are glossy with glycerin
I fondle myself in your stare
poem by Norman Santos
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Trekking The Seams
I never felt too young
To feel this old
Break me once
And I will go
To the place beneath
All our years;
The warehouse beneath
The sepulcher.
poem by Norman Santos
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My Affinity
I am the farthest far
Chased by chased cars
I am the subtle scar
Of the old dead star
A remnant of the war
An option always ajar
Just, always, ajar.
poem by Norman Santos
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Interlude
Meandering in shotgun alleyways,
Cradling a pseudo-leonine soul astray—
Vagrant without a name but a tale,
Do not unfurl yours if you can't stay.
poem by Norman Santos
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Run
Centipede legs raved
Burning from the soles
Famished to run away
From the seeking sun
But the roads slithered
The maps are all gone
There's nowhere to run
poem by Norman Santos
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Madness
There is no peace
Just a struggle not to submit
Into pain, into bliss
Standing in the helm
Amidst a starless sea
And the price is
Grieve and rapture:
Madness.
poem by Norman Santos
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Black Bruises V
Bruised and beseeched
inner lamentations
the only genial thing is that
no one else is sentient
inside this blackness
and I am the only one
to suffer on my sufferings.
poem by Norman Santos
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Up
This elevator would escalate you
into the peak of shattering
and you will find me when
you grounded back your dreaming,
basking in the squalors
of the inevitable veracity
poem by Norman Santos
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Ignorance
‘Ignorance is bliss'
Ignorance is the hiss
Underneath the anticipation
Sprawled in your inebriation
It is the dagger pierced
In every chest it kissed
Ignorance is
The antithesis.
poem by Norman Santos
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The Sepulcher
Inside this cringing vault
Impenetrable to demons
Angles flapped their wings
Fanning the inner turbulence
And the embers of suffering
And inside this vault
No one else has to know.
poem by Norman Santos
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