Plain Of Kazakhstan

Plain Of Kazakhstan
© Surazeus
2017 05 28

Quicker than lightning that flashes at night
in cloudless sky, before the puzzling code
is solved by the man with seven blue eyes,
and love song with mysterious archetype
is keyed in favor of bombing the temple
of lies to free all ancient gods from cage
of tangled words, I snatch from Tree of Life
the apple that contains the sun and rain.

We trudge the endless plain of Kazakhstan
to taste the falling rain of strange Saigon.

The highest mountain of the broken land
conceals the cavern of illusions beamed
from movie projector on ancient wall
where demons mined glittering diamonds of light
that laughing wizards bound on scepter tips,
and so they battled on pyramid top
to prove who would best reign as God on Earth
but I find their scepters melted to bullets.

We trudge the wind-blown plain of Kazakhstan
to catch the last chugging train to Tehran.

Pandora leads blind Robin Hood to Eden
where she shows him how to operate radios
so they can contact Odin in Valhalla
but he snuck in the back door of Olympus
and makes love with Hera in her gold bed
while Zeus is teaching Apollo to play
the stock market so he can steal their souls
and buy the clandestine Stairway to Heaven.

We trudge the signless plain of Kazakhstan
to find the angel who gave him the Koran.

The oracle who foretells every war
by writing secret formulas in book
bound from the skin of last beheaded king
retreats to meditate alone in cave
where ocean waves sing the meaning of life
long before we humans evolved from fish
and long after we humans vanish lost
because the sea cares not for you or me.

We trudge the cracking plain of Kazakhstan
to worship our new Goddess wise Yvonne.

When church bells toll at midnight to portend
the hour when foolish jester will be crowned
king of nothing, and given sphere of sight,
I will reveal the secret formula
that urges each soul to reincarnate
though we all wander lost in labyrinth
that winds through every city on our globe,
so now I reign alone on desolate world.

We trudge the looping plain of Kazakhstan
while Artemis twirls the flashing baton.

You will not find the secret in my house
nor in the crumbling ruins of my eyes
because the arrogant captain who struts
on skulls of children in the White House basement
manipulates us all like chessboard pawns
so here we stand against the bully tyrant
and fight to free the people of the world
so they can keep their cage key in their pocket.

We trudge the changing plain of Kazakhstan
to dance with devils on the White House lawn.