Sunday, May 8, 2016

Radio Static

Radio Static
© Surazeus
2016 05 08

We are not who you want, so go away.
Voices from radio static emerge
to formulate words we might understand,
then vanish in nauseous waves of despair.

Crashed on mountain side during thunder storm.
No survivors who could buy brand new homes.
These days children learn nothing of import
to help understand global economics.

In the Neptune fountain I dropped my phone
just as they called to offer me the job.
I wanted to be a great movie star.
I wanted to play Hamlet, but went deaf.

He wrote her name on the dank prison wall
but we could not find out where she lives now.
My heart is a wild bird, and my rib cage
is a prison and a haven for me.

While trying to read the longest novel, I
keep drifting into weird half-asleep state
where strange visions that make no sense to me
play out horrible scenarios of death.

He sits alone every day on sidewalk
before shining bank of marble and glass
and sings sweet love songs he forgot to write
that nobody hears while they walk on by.

I hoped that you would teach me how to fly.
I think a princess with long golden hair
lives alone on a little floating planet
somewhere over the rainbow of my dreams.

I want to believe with hope-aching heart
that something bigger than myself exists,
but I feel so alone in this dark world.
She stares at glowing screen of her eye phone.

Somewhere far out on the sea of wild waves
people in a fragile boat cling for life
while he shouts on the radio for help.
The old deaf woman on an island cries.

She stares at puzzle pieces on the table.
I know I will see an image emerge
from chaos of color, ordered by shapes.
I will make a movie from memories.

I want to go to school and learn to read.
Numbers walk like insects on shining sand.
I hold an ancient secret in my hand.
Nothing is revealed in their arcane creed.

Standing on the pyramid of one eye,
he pantomimes Hamlet without a word.
I told you this deception was absurd.
Another angel falls out of the sky.

Not one thing I write describes how I feel.
We sat in awkward silence while at lunch.
No one dared tell him the truth, so we left.
Despite radio static, I understand.

I want to rebuild the grand Parthenon
so we can gather each year in great hall
and recite the lost epic no one reads
that recounts the life and deeds of Athena.

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