What Story Will You Perform
© Surazeus
2018 05 21
While I am walking down the busy street,
heading in to work to earn a paycheck,
the oldest woman in the world grabs me
and gazes in my soul with eyes of fire,
then asks me with voice of thunder in clouds,
"What story will you perform through your life?"
I walk the ancient gallery of masks
through endless maze of personalities
designed and maintained by the Faceless God
who emerges from shadows of my fear
and takes for Her collection my real face
so I must perform tale I write myself.
I pause on the street amid swirl of people
and gaze at the sky blazing with red fire
as weird amazement shivers through my flesh
that I am here alive at this strange now
in all the history of the universe,
conscious that I could die ten thousand ways.
Since I could die any moment, I stop
and turn aside from my predestined path
to sit in the grass of the city park
and sing visions that flash before my eyes
that detail the struggle of human souls
to escape death by incarnating children.
I gaze at every woman walking by,
astonished at the beauty of their souls,
then laugh with wry amusement at my heart
that aches to reproduce eternal soul
which sparkles in springing coils of my genes
from tense biological urge of desire.
I must allow the woman to choose me
who wants to bear children sparked by my soul
so I conjure money with crafting hands
to prove potency of my social power
building her safe home and providing food
so we can raise successful children well.
I see grand vision of human achievement
flashing on the screen of the boundless sky
so I weave sentences in flashing verse
that conjures visions in your reading eyes
so you see vision of the universe
swirling atoms into our conscious souls.
While writing poems under vast Tree of Wisdom,
I feel weird presence of eternal soul
who beams concentrated light through my brain
so I transform into immortal God
till my frail body crumbles back to dust
and sparkling atoms disperse into air.
© Surazeus
2018 05 21
While I am walking down the busy street,
heading in to work to earn a paycheck,
the oldest woman in the world grabs me
and gazes in my soul with eyes of fire,
then asks me with voice of thunder in clouds,
"What story will you perform through your life?"
I walk the ancient gallery of masks
through endless maze of personalities
designed and maintained by the Faceless God
who emerges from shadows of my fear
and takes for Her collection my real face
so I must perform tale I write myself.
I pause on the street amid swirl of people
and gaze at the sky blazing with red fire
as weird amazement shivers through my flesh
that I am here alive at this strange now
in all the history of the universe,
conscious that I could die ten thousand ways.
Since I could die any moment, I stop
and turn aside from my predestined path
to sit in the grass of the city park
and sing visions that flash before my eyes
that detail the struggle of human souls
to escape death by incarnating children.
I gaze at every woman walking by,
astonished at the beauty of their souls,
then laugh with wry amusement at my heart
that aches to reproduce eternal soul
which sparkles in springing coils of my genes
from tense biological urge of desire.
I must allow the woman to choose me
who wants to bear children sparked by my soul
so I conjure money with crafting hands
to prove potency of my social power
building her safe home and providing food
so we can raise successful children well.
I see grand vision of human achievement
flashing on the screen of the boundless sky
so I weave sentences in flashing verse
that conjures visions in your reading eyes
so you see vision of the universe
swirling atoms into our conscious souls.
While writing poems under vast Tree of Wisdom,
I feel weird presence of eternal soul
who beams concentrated light through my brain
so I transform into immortal God
till my frail body crumbles back to dust
and sparkling atoms disperse into air.
No comments:
Post a Comment