Evolving Monkey To Superman
© Surazeus
2018 04 15
If I set myself on fire to protest
injustice toward all marginalized groups
who fight against the empire of the man
gripping nuclear bombs in terrified hands
will I escape the labyrinth of lies
that flash from every television screen?
I am the fan belt of the war machine
spinning the Wheel of Fortune to reclaim
strange ghost of Ishtar on the bright-lit stage
who sings creation of the universe
while airplanes drop bombs on our city-states
that crack the puzzle of our lost world view.
So I ask myself, what do women want,
while figuring the formula for lust
that changes channel on the flashing tube
where wizards battle with the wand of words
because the angel of apocalypse
designs new ontology through star faith.
Eyes wide open from watching how steel bombs
blast bodies into bloody fragments, I
call out to God for salvation by faith
from rivers of blood that gush from our brains
when shrapnel tears gaping wound in my heart
through which the divine light of love gets in.
The moon-eyed witch in Massachusetts woods
leads me through shadows of desparing grief
to mountain top where stones gleam in wide ring
since thirteen women dancing on star beams
place crown of thorns that blink electric wires
on my head, connecting me to the Hive Mind.
Retreating from fierce political games
of world domination on the chess board
on top the ziggurat of thought control,
I sit alone in cave of ideal shadows
to draw each figure I perceive as real
with letters flashing on the cafe sign.
The aching melody of saxophones
wails nonchalantly through the misty night
to guide my journey nowhere in the maze
of bright lights in the big city of pride
beyond indifferent vibration of sunlight
on office windows which mask domination.
To regulate exhange of services
producing goods sold in the market place
we stamp metal coins with face of the Judge,
who plays god with the power of life and death,
which we replace with checks for banks to trade
numbers blinking in database of wealth.
How strange that I exist, I meditate
while gazing at fingers I use to build
car that speeds vast network of ashalt roads
as time machine that accelerates progress
evolving from monkey to Superman
who rules the world with modest honesty.
I dance on fire for television dream
so you can join my reality show
on quest to discover the secret code
that might just calculate our angel names
we wear behind the mask of jeopardy
so can I evolve into my real self.
© Surazeus
2018 04 15
If I set myself on fire to protest
injustice toward all marginalized groups
who fight against the empire of the man
gripping nuclear bombs in terrified hands
will I escape the labyrinth of lies
that flash from every television screen?
I am the fan belt of the war machine
spinning the Wheel of Fortune to reclaim
strange ghost of Ishtar on the bright-lit stage
who sings creation of the universe
while airplanes drop bombs on our city-states
that crack the puzzle of our lost world view.
So I ask myself, what do women want,
while figuring the formula for lust
that changes channel on the flashing tube
where wizards battle with the wand of words
because the angel of apocalypse
designs new ontology through star faith.
Eyes wide open from watching how steel bombs
blast bodies into bloody fragments, I
call out to God for salvation by faith
from rivers of blood that gush from our brains
when shrapnel tears gaping wound in my heart
through which the divine light of love gets in.
The moon-eyed witch in Massachusetts woods
leads me through shadows of desparing grief
to mountain top where stones gleam in wide ring
since thirteen women dancing on star beams
place crown of thorns that blink electric wires
on my head, connecting me to the Hive Mind.
Retreating from fierce political games
of world domination on the chess board
on top the ziggurat of thought control,
I sit alone in cave of ideal shadows
to draw each figure I perceive as real
with letters flashing on the cafe sign.
The aching melody of saxophones
wails nonchalantly through the misty night
to guide my journey nowhere in the maze
of bright lights in the big city of pride
beyond indifferent vibration of sunlight
on office windows which mask domination.
To regulate exhange of services
producing goods sold in the market place
we stamp metal coins with face of the Judge,
who plays god with the power of life and death,
which we replace with checks for banks to trade
numbers blinking in database of wealth.
How strange that I exist, I meditate
while gazing at fingers I use to build
car that speeds vast network of ashalt roads
as time machine that accelerates progress
evolving from monkey to Superman
who rules the world with modest honesty.
I dance on fire for television dream
so you can join my reality show
on quest to discover the secret code
that might just calculate our angel names
we wear behind the mask of jeopardy
so can I evolve into my real self.
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