New King Of America
© Surazeus
2017 12 21
When I go running from clan home I burned,
searching for ghost of my father in mist,
I stumble down into the winding cave
where jewels glitter like bright eyes of snakes.
I break the fragile harp Orpheus gave me
when I fling it at snapping jaws of fear
and run into the darkness of despair
to escape the king on high throne of gold.
The maimed king shuffles in the labyrinth
of broken mirrors, but he cannot see
the face his son Narcissus reflects back
from rancid pool of rotting fish and rinds.
Wild Arthur, my only begotten son,
I tricked the crippled king and stole his bride
to engender your soul in her fertile womb,
so now you wear the crown he dropped in muck.
From darkness of the cavern, bearing torch
of vision that he snatched down from the sun,
Lucifer shouts at me when I snatch flint stones
which I can strike to spark the flame of truth.
My father Jupiter taught me the secret
of making fire, so I walk the vast sky
and bring the light of salvation to all
who wander in the dark cave of despair.
I stare into the deep abyss of truth
until the abyss stares back up at me,
but laugh when I perceive my own blue eyes
reflecting the face my father once wore.
I follow Lucifer up winding trail
to mountain grove where Jupiter stands tall
before the stone altar where he roasts beef
and gives me wheat beer in bull horn to drink.
The Unconquerable Sun rises from death,
so we bury seeds in the soil of Tellus
and wait for the light of eternal love
to rejuvenate vines and trees of fruit.
That wretched man Jesus, the crippled king
of the desert kingdom, wanders his wasteland
and curses his stormy father Jehovah
who abandoned him on the cross of war.
The lame-foot boy who hobbles dusty road
stands before the Sphinx by ruined tower walls
and throws the head of Laius at her feet,
then hobbles away on the wand of Hermes.
Since Oedipus was crowned the king of fools
I reign on the high ziggurat of skulls
to brainwash children attending my schools
that my father is immortal god who rules.
When Ishtar returns from land of the dead
she places ring of gold on my bowed head
which renders me invisible to eyes
of men who look for God in empty skies.
When Cain runs past me in the labyrinth
I find his brother Abel by the altar
beaten on the head, so I drink his grapes
and dance in drunken revelry of love.
Old and wrinkled as the dry desert land,
Adam slouches lame by the stone of power,
and holds heaps of apple seeds in his hand
from apples he stole from Garden of Eloh.
Aeneas strides from the cavern of smoke,
bearing his old lame father on his back,
and runs down to the shore where Chiron waits
to sail away in search of paradise.
From lost Avalon to misty America
I sail in ship of fools on stormy waves
toward evening land where Atlas stands alone,
heaving the cornerstone of a new empire.
I bear the Holy Grail in trembling hand
that I find at last in the Cave of Ideas,
and drink the blood of the crucified king
which flashes visions in my soggy brain.
I rip the wand of vision from the soil
and race toward the shadow of tyranny
to free Tellurians from his fascist laws
and swing to smash the mirror of my face.
Fallen lame before the statue of Zeus,
I reach to grasp the hand of my god father,
but smear blood on the statue of King David
as police escort me from the Museum of Art.
© Surazeus
2017 12 21
When I go running from clan home I burned,
searching for ghost of my father in mist,
I stumble down into the winding cave
where jewels glitter like bright eyes of snakes.
I break the fragile harp Orpheus gave me
when I fling it at snapping jaws of fear
and run into the darkness of despair
to escape the king on high throne of gold.
The maimed king shuffles in the labyrinth
of broken mirrors, but he cannot see
the face his son Narcissus reflects back
from rancid pool of rotting fish and rinds.
Wild Arthur, my only begotten son,
I tricked the crippled king and stole his bride
to engender your soul in her fertile womb,
so now you wear the crown he dropped in muck.
From darkness of the cavern, bearing torch
of vision that he snatched down from the sun,
Lucifer shouts at me when I snatch flint stones
which I can strike to spark the flame of truth.
My father Jupiter taught me the secret
of making fire, so I walk the vast sky
and bring the light of salvation to all
who wander in the dark cave of despair.
I stare into the deep abyss of truth
until the abyss stares back up at me,
but laugh when I perceive my own blue eyes
reflecting the face my father once wore.
I follow Lucifer up winding trail
to mountain grove where Jupiter stands tall
before the stone altar where he roasts beef
and gives me wheat beer in bull horn to drink.
The Unconquerable Sun rises from death,
so we bury seeds in the soil of Tellus
and wait for the light of eternal love
to rejuvenate vines and trees of fruit.
That wretched man Jesus, the crippled king
of the desert kingdom, wanders his wasteland
and curses his stormy father Jehovah
who abandoned him on the cross of war.
The lame-foot boy who hobbles dusty road
stands before the Sphinx by ruined tower walls
and throws the head of Laius at her feet,
then hobbles away on the wand of Hermes.
Since Oedipus was crowned the king of fools
I reign on the high ziggurat of skulls
to brainwash children attending my schools
that my father is immortal god who rules.
When Ishtar returns from land of the dead
she places ring of gold on my bowed head
which renders me invisible to eyes
of men who look for God in empty skies.
When Cain runs past me in the labyrinth
I find his brother Abel by the altar
beaten on the head, so I drink his grapes
and dance in drunken revelry of love.
Old and wrinkled as the dry desert land,
Adam slouches lame by the stone of power,
and holds heaps of apple seeds in his hand
from apples he stole from Garden of Eloh.
Aeneas strides from the cavern of smoke,
bearing his old lame father on his back,
and runs down to the shore where Chiron waits
to sail away in search of paradise.
From lost Avalon to misty America
I sail in ship of fools on stormy waves
toward evening land where Atlas stands alone,
heaving the cornerstone of a new empire.
I bear the Holy Grail in trembling hand
that I find at last in the Cave of Ideas,
and drink the blood of the crucified king
which flashes visions in my soggy brain.
I rip the wand of vision from the soil
and race toward the shadow of tyranny
to free Tellurians from his fascist laws
and swing to smash the mirror of my face.
Fallen lame before the statue of Zeus,
I reach to grasp the hand of my god father,
but smear blood on the statue of King David
as police escort me from the Museum of Art.
No comments:
Post a Comment