I Throw My Eyes

I Throw My Eyes
© Surazeus
2018 02 01

After the last man on Earth throws his eyes
at the stars, to understand secret names
of every laughing child who will be born
over these next million years from his words,
he bunches the night like torn table cloth
and sews wings for his blind daughter to fly.

Because she has seven eyes she knows why
we should discuss mathematics with death
to discover prophecies of shepherds
who lead us laughing in the maze of corn
where crippled angels teach us ancient games
because I throw my eyes at empty skies.

Because the illusion of our great land
fractures and falls from vast cathedral sky
as puzzle pieces in narrative tales,
hidden in movies and books we forgot,
I sit mute on snow plain in maze of roads
that all lead back to the City of Death.

Stumbling on my journey, I catch my breath
to discuss philosophy with glass toads
who give me pumpkin pie baked with ergot
that blows my mind into angelic whales
who ponder meaning of life while they fly
so I throw my eyes high with crippled hand.

While standing in the frame of the last door
to nowhere on the naked mountain peak,
I feel as if I cannot sing new spells
revealing arcane codes of alchemy,
so I reach out my hand to touch your face
when you throw your eyes in bottomless heart.

Weird visions I desperately try to chart,
by tattooing names on every lost place,
blast through my brain at great academy
where I find new Runes in world-portal wells
since our First Mother taught me how to speak,
so I encode wisdom in quaint folk lore.

Throwing my eyes into the pond of dreams,
I swim through labyrinth of mirrored souls
who feel the whirling of our spinning world,
then stand alone on street corners of towns
far outside high glass walls of paradise
where the woman I love hides from cruel death.

I chronicle lost dreams in shibboleth
that narrate invention of weird device
possessed for world power by aggressive clowns
who demand we march where the flag is furled
and establish soul-dominating goals,
so I throw my eyes in mountain-fed streams.

The mad king, who throws his eyes at the night,
leads army of zombies to storm the hall
where our star queen twirls magic wand of truth,
then chains Liberty with poisonous lies
so he claims right to sit on judgment throne
and kill noble heroes who defend hope.

Sliding astonished down Parnassian slope,
I accept from David the sacred stone
I slingshot to shatter the greedy eyes
of Goliath who crucifies the sleuth
who details his crimes on our temple wall,
so I throw my eyes at the naked light.

I sit on my couch in the twilight zone
and type runic satires on glowing screen
that prophesy cause and effect of love
when blind goddess returns from cave of death
to teach us wisdom of atoms that flash
since I throw my eyes in the glowing void.

Although the universe, shaped like ovoid,
evolves consciousness in my brain to splash
harmonious waves, awakened by my breath,
I wish I believed in Heaven above,
but since Barsanti designed time machine
I throw my eyes to play oracle bone.

Through ten thousand cities I wander free,
strumming guitar to chant weird prophecies
that predict the rise and fall of the king
who tries to control elements and brains,
but each soul sings their true dream in world choir
since we vibrate with the Cosmos of light.

I throw my eyes in universal light
to praise great heroes in epic satire
while normal people walk in endless rains,
sheltered by hope under one angel wing
so when new stars glitter in global skies
we gather and sing under World Soul Tree.