IN THE ART OF THE MOON / Poem by Santiago

Poem by Santiago



Tired of life’s literature of
glorious tragedies of an
Sapien’s shallow and stagnant pride
that a gladiator ever earns

The conch is blown
Calling exile winds back home
Stirring the silver of the sand
When whirls in a tidal crescendo

This is the renaissance
A true art of life
Where fittest is the one who
Is pierced
With as many arrows as the number of beats a heart can afford

To meet the other half
Of “You”
The remaining part of the
Where you are burst opening
from your skin
And mounting upon heap
Of your bones
So that you see ,
You are not what You “Are”
But what you were Conceived while
In a cosmic womb

Holding a candle along the length
Of your arms that is
Burning at both ends and
You stand on a thin red line where
Walks the choir of life

The ones with four feet
Those with wings
The swimmers , the crawlers
The hunters , the weavers
The ones with venom
Others with nectar

Starry dandelions carrying
messages from
inhabitants of other earths , other skies

Through an eyelet in the eye of
the reality
I see elephants flying in the
Liquid of the sky
And dolphins climbing tree that hang from sky

Only love will read you the remaining
Chapters of the story
Engraved upon skin of your scars
Love will turn your face
Awestruck towards the other half
Of You that is
Flowing in the salt of some sweet eyes

Lovers are never friends
They are either as close as a
Beast is to your heart
as remote as gods are from your flesh

All Rights Reserved
© Santiago 2018

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s