Dynamic God Of Action
© Surazeus
2018 04 26
Though I long wandered the strange world alone,
and live now with my small intimate family
of wife and two daughters in our cozy home,
the prophet of my own private religion,
my poems are coded with ancestral memories
of people performing in social dramas.
Each person I meet on the road of life,
walking across the stage of hidden secrets,
plays the star of their own personal movie,
narrating the theme of their character
as they improvise their lines in each scene
while praying to God the Director for Guidance.
I refuse to play the unfamiliar role
others attempt to impose on my soul
that supports the fragile pride of their ego,
the tragicomic clown they love to mock,
because someone mocked them in their last scene,
so I exit their stage with silent speech.
Would I prefer to declaim monologues
through existential crisis of despair
like Hamlet at the tomb of his dead father
pondering what great action he should perform
that would result in ascension to power
because his uncle outmaneuvered him?
The greatest characters in ancient epics,
Gilgamesh, Achilles, Odysseus, Mithras,
Aeneas, Krishna, Apollo, Jesus, Beowulf,
and a thousand other remembered heroes,
spring alive from the vision of song words,
idols that flash before our dreaming eyes.
I wear the mask of each god for one day,
performing his role in the game of life
to comprehend the program of his vision
for transcending the terror of mute death
and becoming dynamic god of action
who creates good community of friends.
The more I conceal agonizing wounds
from shame at bumbling the role I would play,
that hurts people I love with careless words,
behind the polished mask of this persona,
they more astute eyes see through my disguise
the weird character from the Other World.
© Surazeus
2018 04 26
Though I long wandered the strange world alone,
and live now with my small intimate family
of wife and two daughters in our cozy home,
the prophet of my own private religion,
my poems are coded with ancestral memories
of people performing in social dramas.
Each person I meet on the road of life,
walking across the stage of hidden secrets,
plays the star of their own personal movie,
narrating the theme of their character
as they improvise their lines in each scene
while praying to God the Director for Guidance.
I refuse to play the unfamiliar role
others attempt to impose on my soul
that supports the fragile pride of their ego,
the tragicomic clown they love to mock,
because someone mocked them in their last scene,
so I exit their stage with silent speech.
Would I prefer to declaim monologues
through existential crisis of despair
like Hamlet at the tomb of his dead father
pondering what great action he should perform
that would result in ascension to power
because his uncle outmaneuvered him?
The greatest characters in ancient epics,
Gilgamesh, Achilles, Odysseus, Mithras,
Aeneas, Krishna, Apollo, Jesus, Beowulf,
and a thousand other remembered heroes,
spring alive from the vision of song words,
idols that flash before our dreaming eyes.
I wear the mask of each god for one day,
performing his role in the game of life
to comprehend the program of his vision
for transcending the terror of mute death
and becoming dynamic god of action
who creates good community of friends.
The more I conceal agonizing wounds
from shame at bumbling the role I would play,
that hurts people I love with careless words,
behind the polished mask of this persona,
they more astute eyes see through my disguise
the weird character from the Other World.
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