Brothers in a Glasshouse
The silhouettes of many yesterdays
Floundered through the silent walls
Recounting how we roam these branches
Trespassing unnumbered rooms,
Filleting riddles from the harlequin moon,
Fishing through salient oceans,
Meandering with a pensive nonchalance
Like kings in a pompous parade
Bounded by a golden chain
And shorn by vindictive asymmetries
But days fluttered without transition
We molted from the visage of our reflections
With gauche arrogance pouncing
From the tethers of this glasshouse
Sending mordant shudders on its frangibility
Whilst wrathful malcontent is forged from
The angrily hissing flames of distraught
Ricocheting like bullets mangling
Through the cavernous but elusive vault,
Your invitation still echoes through
The circles of these soliloquy
Like a labyrinthine hall ornately
Shuffled to hide the deepest room
Where the moon is such a vision
In a lake of sleeping mirrors
How did this home burned down
Tarnishing our pristine reflections?
Our star-crossed visions bloated
From breathing under water;
Your nonplussed departure
Left blithely like a climate
Invited by an aubade
But why do you have to leave
This detrimental thunderstorms
Of shattered mirrors, memoirs, behind
Prancing for the wretchedness
Of my stirred penetralium?
I lived in these desolate waltz
Like a bard without a song
Wandering for your lost suppuration
And escaping from the serrations
Lashed by your inclement after-thought
I cussed at every mock you scorn
And futilely waited for a faceless
Answer to writhe the defiance
Aggravated by these mocking mirrors
And their livid insinuations
[...] Read more
poem by Norman Santos
Added by Poetry Lover
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