Thursday, October 18, 2018

Forward Thrust Of The Earth

Forward Thrust Of The Earth
© Surazeus
2018 10 18

When he saw the apple fall from the tree
Newton thought some force pulled it to the Earth,
so he theorized force of gravity pulls
strong in proportion to mass of the object.

When he rode in the elevator down,
Einstein felt himself float up in the air,
as if force of gravity disappeared,
and left him suspended beyond the world.

When he rode the elevator up,
Einstein felt himself pressed against the floor,
as if force of gravity reappeared,
and pulled him back at the bulk of the world.

Then at that moment of epiphany
Albert realized with clear shock of surprise
gravity is not force that pulls us down,
but thrust from forward motion of the globe.

Our bodies feel pushed down against the Earth
because the Earth spins forward into space,
so forward motion of this spinning sphere
pushes us against its surface with force.

When the apple broke from limb of the tree
it did not fall down at the bulk of Earth,
rather the Earth spinning forward in space
pushed against the apple floating in space.

Gravity is forward thrust of the Earth
which spins so fast through the infinite void
that it pushes its sphere against loose objects
so we tumble with our world into time.

So when the engine spins propellers fast
I soar the airplane with Icarian wings
high into the thick gaseous atmosphere,
so high I could almost escape the world.

Cosmology Of My Heart

Cosmology Of My Heart
© Surazeus
2018 10 18

Too often I gaze down at pools of water
that shimmer on black asphalt of the street
and feel myself fall in that other world
of fantasy reflected by their sheen.

I lose myself in fog of black despair
to float lost on bleak melancholy sea,
and drift nameless beyond my sense of self,
aching to become someone else much better.

But I look up from dream of fantasy
and gaze sharp-eyed at the world that exists
to understand boundaries of ownership
where people claim parcels of land as theirs.

If I owned land I could work with my hands
I could transform it into paradise,
arranging plants in garden of fruit trees
to design cosmology of my heart.

I must escape from fantasy of hope
that traps me in dark labyrinth of desire
so I can explore real world that exists
and work for land I can mold with my hands.

Instead of kings giving plots of lush land
to loyal followers who help them reign,
now law courts manage deeds of ownership
so people can buy land to build safe home.

The blue of the sky I see in road pools
shimmers so deep in my paralyzed heart
I feel eternity suspend my soul
till I laugh at absurdity of fear.

Though all the best land along river shores
has been claimed by people who came before,
I will build paradise from the waste land
to design cosmology of my heart.

Floating Apple Of The Sun

Floating Apple Of The Sun
© Surazeus
2018 10 18

These leaves that shroud my soul in silent death,
as if my mind could know specific facts
never perceived during dramas of hope,
reveal the route I could take to success
since road signs are mirrors after they laugh,
and present every television show.

We walk together on the river shore,
exchanging stories about what we want,
hopes we wrap tight in pretty packages
to place under the pine tree before dawn,
expecting all the gifts that blind men bring,
which should include the latest model wing.

Conceptual pattern through arrogant taste
beams from bright lantern on the bedroom wall,
if we collage memories from magazines
to invent the perfect life never lived,
since experience puzzles fragments of truth
in new story no one will quite believe.

The way she packaged her honey and milk
for sale to star-eyed followers conceals
secret of math formulas to explain
analysis of human body functions
when we grasp each other with aching lust
which generates new body beaming soul.

Chemicals in the body interact
through natural process of growth and decay
measured by ticking of conceptual time,
but when the body in small rocket ship
speeds faster outside context of the planet
the aging process slows so we live longer.

The interacting atoms of our body
take much longer to move around each other
when the organic body inside ship
accelerates far faster than the planet,
so that is why we take longer to age
and return to Earth much younger than others.

Gravity is no force that pulls us down,
rather the spinning Earth pushes forward
against our bodies through vacuum of space,
so when the apple breaks from its tree limb
the spinning Earth pushes against the apple,
thus the loosed apple does not fall, but floats.

If I could miss the planet when I leap
I could fly away from its solid surface
and swoop about without Icarian wings
to soar above the labyrinth of vast cities
so I can map the process of success
and navigate my way to paradise.

But here I walk beside you on the world,
searching for the garden of blooming fruit
so we can sit together by the lake
to kiss and talk about meaning of life
as we generate children from our love
and teach them the sweet secret of rebirth.

Though I could clone my body twenty times
to create bodies with genetic code,
each replicant of me would not be me
for each would develop from memories
their own conscious soul separate from mine,
and each would want to live their own weird way.

I love the beauty of this flashing world
so much I want to live ten million years
and savor every life that man could play,
so I must replace my organic flesh
with mechanic form to sustain my brain,
and sing with you forever in bright rain.

Yet after all organic forms have died
and I walk alone on this desolate world,
gleaming robot exploring bleak waste land,
would I not feel strange aching loneliness
of mocking silence from eternal life
to contemplate infinity of death?

So by that time I could accumulate
complete memories of every conscious soul
who ever lived in flow of evolution,
then I would dream entire history of life,
reliving every moment of desire
when we gazed with awe at beauty of life.

Beneath the Tree of Life on river shore,
which sprawls branches to encompass the world,
I stand again at beginning of time
when we first rose tall from the lake of light
to watch the sun gleaming over high peaks
and feel strange ache of joy glow in my heart.

I run forward through every age of man
to dream the rise and fall of empire states,
building cities that teem with crowds of people,
then wandering again along winding rivers,
transforming through each generation self
to flow back into this brain I am now.

I become so many people through dream,
wearing the mask of every human face,
that I forget my own specific name
because millions of people live through me,
each one swimming as seed into the womb
to leap forward incarnate as god self.

After walking all night in purple rain,
transforming from the raven to the wolf,
I become me again at my house door
where I stand and listen to the stars sing,
then go inside and lie down on my bed
to sleep and resurrect with my new name.

So that is why I walked outside the door
and hitchhiked far from sea to shining sea
to sing the vision of the universe
on the street of every town in the land,
and now we sit on the same river shore,
eating the floating apple of the sun.

Work To Maintain Democracy

Work To Maintain Democracy
© Surazeus
2018 10 18

Though I feel like broken puppet of fear,
bones of fragile glass cracked by ache of hope,
in struggle to maintain democracy,
I feel justice will prevail in the end.

I long believed wise deity of truth
somehow controls how humans live on Earth,
maintaining justice for the noble good
and punishing those who hurt other people.

How many times in human history
did strong men rise to defeat evil tyrants
and protect good people from greed of thieves
so justice always prevailed in the end?

Yet we humans had to fight for that right,
imposing rules of behavior through laws
to reward people who create good things
and punish people who destroy our lives.

Justice for good people is just not natural,
for no supernatural deity of love
oversees process of civilization,
therefore we must make justice through our actions.

We must work to maintain democracy,
united to fight against tyranny,
for some angry man will always attempt
to control the liberty of our minds.

To Live As Human Beings

To Live As Human Beings
© Surazeus
2018 10 18

My memories are crowded with human souls
whose faces all reflect the face I wear
and while some seem to play pre-assigned roles
others transform from their heart-breaking fear
to find new way to live as human beings
who ache to fly away on angel wings.

Some play the leaders while some play the fools
but most just go about their daily lives,
trusting leader they choose to make good rules
that run things so husbands take care of wives
and children solve problems with better ways
that guide us safe through the death-haunted maze.

For ten thousand years we built social structure
based on the patriarchy where men reign
who protect wives and children as our culture
so together we thrive through active gain
to maintain the food-production machine
while forgetting that the mother is queen.

Though white males reigned as kings in paradise
so we survived within strong castle walls
now that we control Earth we pay the price
as dictators stalk our government halls,
refusing to relinquish reins of power
when we choose others to watch from the tower.

Every person on Earth has equal right
to compete for jobs in our social game
regardless if their skin is dark or light
for we can all perform our roles the same
maintaining system of justice through laws,
so unite to fight for the noble cause.

We struggle to survive in wilderness
where wits provide the strength to evade death
while we pursue our dreams of happiness
inspired by love through the spirit of breath
to work together in wise company,
building better lives based on liberty.

We build empire to apply common rules
so the law will treat everyone the same
whether we work with our minds or with tools
to help each other win the social game
where common folk are heroes we admire,
loyal to our nation as they retire.

The haughty man who thinks himself the king
will fall nine days from heaven of despair
like arrogant Icarus with broken wing,
destroyed by his attempt to control air,
for every soul is free to live their way
if they harm none by what they do or say.

I Am Mother Of America

I Am Mother Of America
© Surazeus
2018 10 18

Anxieties that vibrate in my head
alert me to dangers I may not see
so I observe my space with open eyes
to watch for dangers that may threaten me.

Often I cannot clearly see the danger
that slouches toward me in shadow of fear
so terror grips me on this sunny day
when everything seems to be peachy keen.

Standing at the window of my quaint home,
staring at leaves of trees rustling in wind,
I eat sweet peach to taste its ancient truth
and contemplate signs that something is wrong.

Once people thought black cats were signs of danger
but they are just cats whose fur absorbs light,
though if you saw cat of the village gossip
you knew she was close and out to cause trouble.

My husband flies away on business trips
while I stay home and get our kids to school
because I want them to make better lives
than I did since my drunk father beat me.

The only reason I fear if he cheats
and strange woman gets pregnant from his lust,
is he sends money to care for that child
and neglects the children he has with me.

I want to maintain this good life we built
together based on our romantic dreams,
but if he wants more will I lose it all,
and end up homeless, muttering in the street?

Where can I go if he abandons me
and leaves me to care for our kids alone,
so they would achieve less than if he stayed
and paid for them to attend the best college?

I am anxieties contained in flesh,
always considering how things could go wrong
so I can preempt disaster with plan
to maintain balance of energy flow.

I see the eagle of America
shriek in horror from the shattering sky
as our world view crumbles around our heads
so we fear problems the future may bring.

Is Future some giant dragon with eyes
blazing flames of war against frail mankind
that it brings disaster to smash our world
which we created to sustain our lives?

When we were weak and helpless villagers
beset by monsters from the wilderness
strong heroes defended us all from harm
but now we dominate the spinning world.

Will my husband stay with us every day
to protect me and our children from harm
since monsters are disguised as human beings
who seek to exploit us for their own gain?

Though my body creates life from his seed
his strength protects our young children from harm
and his work in the food-making machine
funds this strong house which protects us at night.

How easy it would be to kill myself
to escape the stress of sustaining life,
but beauty of pleasure inspires my heart
to continue struggling to stay alive.

Watching my children learn truth as they play
inspires me to keep their spirits alive
and continue teaching them how to live
so they will love life more after I die.

I am tense bundle of anxieties,
contemplating methods to stay alive
while I navigate the labyrinth of lies
on eternal quest for beauty of truth.

I am mother of America,
watching over my children I create
so they treat everyone they meet with love
as we participate in game of life.

Wednesday, October 17, 2018

Fighting For One Girl

Fighting For One Girl
© Surazeus
2018 10 17

Flame shimmers from the oil lamp on the porch
when cicadas chirp among sprawling oaks
who ponder infinity near thick lake
where frogs discuss meaninglessness of life.

He feels his spirit spread out in the gloom
of purple twilight woven by the stars
who laugh as he stands in paralyzed awe
at terrible ache of hope in his heart.

Strumming guitar, he hums melody
that imitates wind rustling fragile leaves
to remember why he cares about truth
against the mute darkness of summer swamp.

"Sweet Caroline, pretty girl with gold hair,
I long to show you, love, how much I care,
because I see your blue eyes everywhere,
so come to my home and live as my wife."

The truck rumbling by on the country road
stops among trees and someone shouts his name,
then shoots their gun as he jumps off the porch
and rolls behind bushes with beating heart.

Hearing the door of the truck slam in rage,
he crouches tense at the crunch of boot steps,
then rises up and swings guitar with force
to bash his head as he fires gun again.

Dropping the smashed guitar onto his brother,
he picks up the gun and sighs in moonlight,
then shoots him the head so he is dead,
and buries him where the frogs discuss death.

Driving the truck eighty miles into town,
he trades the gun for another guitar,
then stands on the street and begins to sing
ballad of brothers fighting for one girl.

Secret Of Social Success

Secret Of Social Success
© Surazeus
2018 10 17

The secret of social success in life
is networking and connecting with people
who hold positions of authority
with power to grant you the job you desire.

If you can get into their inner circle
they will promote you for prizes and jobs
if you promote them in turn for the same,
so you help each other gain social power.

If you fail to win them with adoration
you will remain outside their wall of silence,
condemned to be ignored by all their friends,
unable to ascend their pyramid.

Or you can mock them all with harsh satire,
exposing their cohort as hypocrites,
and play the rebel as you walk alone,
disdaining their success and fame as fake.

No matter what part of society
where you choose to participate for wealth
you must play their game to win glorious fame
or change the rules to establish your name.

Should I storm the castle gate of success
to crown myself king on the vacant throne,
or wander alone on the wild sea shore
and sing my laughing spells in blustering wind?

Generating New Life

Generating New Life
© Surazeus
2018 10 17

Every object which exists in firm shape
pulses composed from atoms of three quarks
that spiral woven tight in flashing coils
to form matter in patterns through designs.

How strange all objects around me I see
retain coherent structures of their forms
instead of merging into pulsing mass
of flashing molecules mixed in wild chaos.

I exist within bounds of time and space
for my mother transformed seed from my father
to create this body with perceptive brain
so I explore through motion of my will.

Organic plants and creatures sprout from soil
condensed in planets that spin around suns
through chemical process of molecules
which connect based on number of electrons.

Based on number of electrons in rings,
atoms connect in structures to become
complex organs with brains that perceive light
and generate model of the universe.

No conscious will creates the universe,
designing static forms from paradigms
of geometric shapes built from triangles,
for we are the ones who replicate ourselves.

As we stand face to face on windy plain,
we breathe thick air that permeates the world
and feel exhalations solidify
these bodies of flesh when we talk and kiss.

We are flashes of sunlight in thick flesh
congealed from sweet juicy fruit we consume
that transforms dirt into more complex substance
our bodies need to sustain consciousness.

While I consider nature of the world,
pondering physical processes of life,
angry men afraid of losing their power
march in the streets to support the strong man.

I want the wise man as head of our state
who considers complexities of nature
when he designs political programs
that better organize human behavior.

We want our social system to survive
that defines roles each person may perform
to produce food from fertile soil of Earth
so everyone gets enough food to eat.

Based on material nature of our world
we establish democratic republic
to best organize social interactions
so every person benefits from work.

The chemical interactions of atoms
reflect social interactions of people
through political dramas of power plays
when people fight each other for control.

I want to eat food I grow from the soil
within walls of paradise I create
where I make love with companion I trust
to generate children who take our place.

I fight people who threaten to destroy
food-production system of paradise,
and host hungry people who wander lost
wanting to help expand our paradise.

While standing under fruit tree on the hill,
I teach my children how the whole world works
so they can participate in its game,
generating new life before we die.

World View Sonnet

World View Sonnet
© Surazeus
2018 10 17

That everything was created by God,
that your soul will live on after your body
dies and crumbles to the dust of the Earth,
that Jesus will return to resurrect
your body with complete genetic code,
that he will transform Earth into paradise,
these are delusions invented by priests
to keep your mind subservient to their will,
so seek the truth by measuring the world
and believe what you can prove beyond doubt.
The world view we believed two thousand years
vanishes to lies under scrutiny,
so we must design more accurate world view
to guide our way the next ten thousand years.

Powerful Time Machine

Powerful Time Machine
© Surazeus
2018 10 17

The shiny metal car with gleaming glass,
clear as ice over frozen country pond,
glides with smooth elegant grace of control
along narrow road winding through high mountains.

The piston engine has been engineered
to maximize burning of fossil fuels
through efficient consumption to preserve
pristine environment of our great land.

Since man first grasped stone with crafting hand,
he has developed strict technology
to transform wagons into motor cars
so he can move quicker across the land.

Now you can own this powerful time machine
which balances efficient use of fuel
with elegant grace of aesthetic class,
high quality for an affordable cost.

The man driving the car smiles at his wife,
and their children play games on their smart phones,
comfortable inside the elegant car,
while he navigates hostile wilderness.

The stone-age family wearing wolf-fur robes
rise up around the fire while roasting meat
and watch the shiny car glide by in snowfall,
waving at themselves reflected in glass.

After presenting scenario on panels,
the young advertising agent steps back
to wait for response from his audience
of managers from the car company.

Smiling, they proclaim they love his concept
of the stone-age family who see their future,
so they all shake hands to seal the new deal,
then eat at the restaurant to celebrate.

Master Of The Magic Wand

Master Of The Magic Wand
© Surazeus
2018 10 17

The girl with long wild hair and silver eyes
leaps from shadow to prance in sunlit grove
while tweeting tangled melodies of light
on fragile flute, carved from long dragon bone,
that haunt the soul with strange forgotten dreams.

Following the gold-haired witch of his heart,
the boy in bear-fur robe stops in large grove
when the mountain king and army of soldiers
surround him by the lake of leaping fish.

When the tall king leaps off his prancing horse
and twirls sharp sword, threatening to hack his head,
the boy raises metal tube and sparks fire
that sizzles on the string while soldiers laugh.

The girl plays slow heart-aching melody
of vain hope while leaping around the boy
who holds the long tube steady with his hand,
then, as the angry king runs toward the boy,
raising his long sword to chop off his head,
the tube explodes with flame of sparkling light.

The head of the fierce king explodes in blood
when invisible demon from the tube
shatters his skull with sudden brutal force
which splatters his brains all over the grass,
so the soldiers gasp in shock at the sight
of their powerful king falling dead in dirt.

The long bear-fur robe flutters in the wind
as the boy stands holding the magic wand
that spit flame of death which killed the strong king
from one hundred feet across sunlit grove,
and soldiers stand paralyzed with stark terror
as the girl plays soul-haunting melody
on fragile bone flute of heart-broken sorrow.

Stepping forward before awe-struck soldiers,
the boy proclaims while holding magic wand,
"Bow before me and follow me as king,
and I will lead you to conquer the world,
so help me collect the ingredients
I need to operate my magic wand,
and we will kill all the kings of the world
so I reign as Emperor of Middle Earth."

The soldiers cheer and follow their new king,
walking into the waste land with ten wagons
to fill with magic powders for his wand,
while the girl with silver eyes and gold hair
plays haunting melodies on the bone flute.

Emptiness Of My Cold Heart

Emptiness Of My Cold Heart
© Surazeus
2018 10 17

Without the tree of gifts, without the song
of broken hearts, without the spicy drink,
how will I know the season of the snow
that freezes my soul before I know why?

Under the radar, quick through the back door,
shattered on the floor of nowhere, blind eye
turned from the sight of theft, beyond the hour
we close doors to keep the silence away.

The overall view of something realized,
the picture crooked on the wall, the light
hiding truth in shadows we should ignore,
so I want more of this forgetful drink.

Another holiday of empty rituals
played for the camera that sees through my mask,
when the alarm rings, I get home from work
too weary to participate, because.

This puzzle of the bridge and country house
where I fantasize I live with more you
is too complicated for me to finish,
fragments of memories I choose to ignore.

I see how people interact when wine
sparkles in candlelight, after the party
of laughing children, when my favorite show
on television gets canceled again.

I bought two hundred Christmas cards that show
children playing around the tall sparkling tree,
but I would rather be the owl who hides,
so I never send the cards to my friends.

Alone on Christmas Eve by the stone hearth
I stare at emptiness of my cold heart
and laugh at silly cliche of that image
as I drink the wine I wish would kill me.

Tuesday, October 16, 2018

Your Unique Song

Your Unique Song
© Surazeus
2018 10 16

If you form church based on my prophecies,
which teach you how to better view the world,
worship me not as divine god on Earth
for I am but weak mortal soul like you.

You also can exercise your bright brain
to imagine with visions built from words
atomic nature of our universe
which you can express in your magic spells.

Envision the First Flash of the Big Bang
and dream how matter spirals into atoms
which weave planets of life from molecules
through brains in organic creatures who sing.

We sit together on the river shore,
eating apples from Tree of Life we grow,
and sing the visions of our beaming eyes
so we create world view of paradise.

Though you see the divine spirit of truth
beaming through weird visions of all my songs
you will find that divine spirit in you
pulsing to blossom into your own songs.

We all spring from the womb of our first mother
who taught us how to signify all things
with words we sing from the breath of our hearts,
so join our choir and share your unique song.

Vibrant Relativity Of Time

Vibrant Relativity Of Time
© Surazeus
2018 10 16

Out of the emptiness of my frail head
spring ghosts of all the dead people who lived
four million years since we rose from the sea,
searching to become the god-soul we dream.

Through fierce aggressive lust we conquered Earth
to dominate this globe of flowing streams
with hands that dig its spirits from the soil
from words to share the wisdom we have learned.

How can we know the truth about this world
unless we measure its strange properties
and describe strict functions with formulas
which explain the effects of every cause.

This vibrant relativity of time
where chemical processes transform shapes
in constant changes through growth and decay
frames our verbal perceptions of Ideas.

I dance along quick sunbeam of desire
which vibrates wide in undulating pulse
to spiral tight around our spinning globe
and now electrifies our dreaming souls.

From fleet expansion of hot first flash
thick globs of matter spin through empty space
so pulsing strings coil tight in photon coils
as quarks which link triangles in protons.

Two protons click to spin nuclear flash
which knocks one quark to pulse electron beam
binding its neutron with taut proton charge
and forms one atom, building block of things.

This vibrant relativity of time
clocks ticking consciousness of dreaming mind
who wakes from emptiness of hungry lust
to be aware of itself, so alive.

Out of the emptiness of deep abyss
each mother forms our body in wet womb
transforming atoms into conscious brain
which reflects structure of the universe.

Each melody we hum on road of life
we first heard in wild music of the sea
so though we climb the highest rugged mountain
we always return to its swirling waves.

We generate our own kind from sweet lust
to populate this world with hungry souls
who disappear into vast wilderness
where they transform into strangers we fear.

This vibrant relativity of time
reveals conception of the blazing bang
from which we expand into the White Whole
so we become the soul of god we dream.

We gather in the temple to sing hymns
which explain the origin of all things,
how we transformed from mud of the sea shore,
animated by spirit of the starlight.

While I sing beauty of this universe
greedy man challenges my right to rule
so we fight for power to describe the truth
through long bloody game for king of the hill.

How long did I reign as king of the hill,
immortal god reborn father to son
through the holy womb of creative mother,
till I was overthrown and wandered lost?

This vibrant relativity of time
shows changeless Ideas of things persist
beyond the flowing bounds of time and space
so I am what I am with glowing face.

Land Where Everyone Can Live

Land Where Everyone Can Live
© Surazeus
2018 10 16

Conceptual fortitude through spinning time
supports more explorations of the mind
so when I leap through mirror of desire
I soar on wings to join the ancient choir.

Each time we gather on the rive shore
to share strange secrets of the unseen door
we grow beyond the bounds of childhood truth
to better employ the ways of the sleuth.

The scripture that was sacred to old fools
we analyze to understand weak rules
and thus reprogram how we view the world
to celebrate new heroes through our lore.

Though scattered in weird labyrinth of myths
we call each other through deceptive mist
so when we enter temple of dead heroes
we dream evolution from flashing zeroes.

The bully who declares himself the king
cannot hear true spells Liberty can sing
so though he must believe he talks with God
we see he is weak as the thieving fraud.

We go about our business every day,
refusing to believe in lies and pray,
yet earn enough to pay for rent and food
though numbed by the collapsing-empire mood.

We remember the great democracy
America has always longed to be,
so we all agree to enforce standard laws
that provide equal justice from first cause.

Through waste land of the past we wend new way
to rebuild world view of America
as land where everyone can live and play
to savor truth with honest liberty.

Broken Porcelain Cup

Broken Porcelain Cup
© Surazeus
2018 10 16

The frail porcelain cup with yellow blooms
cracks on smooth wood floor of the living room
as the black cat skitters into the hall
tail high as the telephone pole in rain.

The old woman in the long yellow dress
stares at piano keys of shining ivory
and remembers green grass of the back yard
with soft yellow roses wet after rain.

She closes her eyes at touch of his hands
on her belly, and his breath on her neck,
and how his whispered words struck at her heart
like wood keys twanging taut piano strings.

Floating on cold river in warm sunlight,
she feels her body become the landscape
of fields and rolling hills fertile with life
as bees gather pollen from apple blooms.

Slipping from grip of his hands on her hips,
she leaps into cool shade of the white house
to sit trembling on the piano bench,
and sings, "I come the garden alone."

Cheeks flushed as she sings the hymn about Jesus,
she peeks through lace curtains at the back yard
where he lies on his back and reaches arms
with aching desire to embrace soft clouds.

Abruptly stopping the song at the words
"and he walks with me, and he talks with me,"
she curls hands in her lap, pressing lace dress
against her thighs with aching agony.

Gazing at painting of Jesus that hangs
beside photo of her adopting parents,
she imagines him smiling with desire
as he holds her tight and kisses her mouth.

Glancing up from memories of her childhood,
the old woman stares at the photograph
that shows her sitting with him and five children
who sprang from the passion of their embrace.

He was not Jesus but I married him,
for I often lay in bed after dark
and longed for him to hold me in his arms
and fill me with the spirit of his love.

Leaving the home of the woman who raised me,
I held hands with her nephew as we walked
thin signless road across the windy plain
where silent hope sings over golden hills.

Stopping by the pond among rustling trees,
he caressed my gold curls and kissed my cheeks,
and talked about the home he wants to build,
so we continued to the promised land.

He built that home for me by the slow stream,
the old woman smiles and touches her cheek,
then stares at the broken porcelain cup,
cracked like her aching heart beyond repair.

Homeless In The Rain

Homeless In The Rain
© Surazeus
2018 10 16

The glass door of the large squat cement store
in the signless strip mall by the new highway
outside Fort Worth in Nineteen Seventy
knows everything about the black rain cloud
that spirals flashing over fields of wheat.

The boy inside the red Volkswagen stares
at the large poster showing Raquel Welch
in short wolf-fur skirt facing dinosaurs
as she tries to evade their snapping jaws
and run for the ark when rain floods the world.

The boy looks at the strip-mall parking lot
where cars shimmer in drops of sparkling rain,
then sees his mother buying clothes in the store
as he waits for wild rain to flood the world,
hoping the buggy will float like the ark.

Watching white rain drops slither down door glass,
the boy thinks about living in high mountains
among tall pines he chops down with sharp axe,
then shapes wood in planks to build river boat,
and he can smell sharp scent of pine in the wind.

Gripping sides of the sturdy river boat,
the boy glides bouncing down the gushing stream
that winds through ancient woods where sunrays gleam,
till the boat swirls onto the larger river
that shimmers bright under the singing sky.

Watching cars pass as his mother drives home,
the boy longs to return to that home land
though he got lost a thousand years ago
when he sailed away to explore the world
and wanders nowhere, homeless in the rain.

Numberless Days Of Lost Hopes

Numberless Days Of Lost Hopes
© Surazeus
2018 10 16

For who can capture that elusive vibe
of transcendental joy through fragile words
that we arrange to puzzle our perceptions
from swirling chaos of conceptual hope.

For who is more psychotic than the king
who thinks his words can control everything
because people often obey commands
from fear he will kill them if they refuse.

We must invent our way through maze of lies
designed to trap us in these roles for life
that someone else assigned us to perform
unless we smash system of thought control.

Since time is interaction of bright atoms
which cling together through electron links
our brains perceive the flashing of their changes
in restless dream of hope to change the world.

Each chess piece I move on the board of hope
rebels against perceived authority
to play their own roles in drama of power
so I sit alone in lush paradise.

When he was king and issued bold commands
my father was obeyed without reluctance
because he would kill them if they refused
but I like people, so they think me soft.

I want us all to succeed as one tribe,
the strong family united in our purpose
to extend our power to control all land
so we all live under one set of rules.

For who can see into the hearts of people
when their faces mask their secret desires
which operate their intentions to ascend
hierarchy of power under the sky god.

These are the numberless days of lost hopes
when all the rituals of social performance
are evaded by rebels against fear
who march holding signs to the hall of power.

Greedy criminals who own companies
exploit the common people for their gain
while honest citizens sit home alone
to contemplate the mystery of the coin.

The alligator and the prancing horse
ally to battle on the field of play
to fight for the hearts and minds of the people
the laughing lion and the crippled eagle.

For who can out-jester the king of fools,
hoping to stop him when he changes the rules
that will favor the people of his tribe
while Earth continues spinning through the void.

Monday, October 15, 2018

Through My Stoic Heart

Through My Stoic Heart
© Surazeus
2018 10 15

The river crashes through my stoic heart
to throw broken stones at reflective sky
which shatters illusions of ancient faith
to free my spirit from the resurrection.

Each stolid face that crushed my naked soul
for committing quaint acts of selfishness,
once fierce as divine thunderstorms of wrath,
twists into vain grimace of righteous clowns.

How they attacked me for imagined sin
to prove their goodness was superior
to my wicked playfulness of free thought
when they go to Heaven and I will not.

I disdain that Heaven where they will dwell,
so from weird waste land of clandestine hell
I will organize my own paradise
where we will sing till Death devours us all.

The ocean cycles through my stoic heart
to quick evolve accelerated forms
with every stage my fetus grows to me,
four million years in nine months of rebirth.

How waves of light vibrate through empty space
intones strange harmony of singing rings
when carbon atoms weave lush tapestry
to clothe my skeleton in hungry flesh.

Would I be able to observe my soul
beaming cathode rays in vacuum of hope
till quaking particles are scattered wild
in sparkling flashes of electric eyes?

Though someone tries to see the aching truth
concealed by beams of ultraviolet love,
electric charges of my heart spray wide
through drops of water in my flowing mind.

The waterfall swirls through my stoic heart
to capture energy of errant rays
which fragment into rainbows of desire
expanding density of neural nets.

Who dreams the tick-tock of the universe
though atoms spiral relative to weight
increased by large bodies of thick mass
if time expresses motion beyond matter?

What Cartesian frame of absolute time
grids artificial web of twanging souls
by which we measure variable commotions
from undulating stream of breathless words?

Spiraling coils of sparkles spring taut pulse
when buzzing radiation spins in bubbles
composed of three strings forming the proton
which strikes far outward in positive charge.

Quick quanta query through my stoic heart
to ponder nature of our consciousness
generated by neurons pulsing light
to form model of the world I perceive.

The preacher declares God is everywhere
but I feel nothing more than flashing atoms
so I reach out my hand to touch the stars
and dream their rays beaming into my brain.