Trampoline Of Ambition
© Surazeus
2018 07 06
The human heart is not a trampoline,
yet people are always jumping on mine
and launching themselves on Icarian wings
in vain efforts to leap the walls of Heaven.
Although some of the most heroic people
performed the greatest deeds of history,
they lived and died unknown to record keepers
so their names are lost in the winds of time.
When the man with crown of authority
tries to mute the journalist and the clown
we expose his crimes and make voodoo dolls
to overthrow the tyrant through his greed.
I want to learn how to fly the airplane
so I can ascend the clouds of the sky
and land before the palace where God lives
to ask him why people suffer and die.
We rearrange the dictionary words
to encode all the memories of mankind
in jaunty ballads no one ever sings
to avoid building cars in factories.
With every word I build the wall of dreams
to annotate the archetypes of souls
and record our experiences of life
as we attempt to evade strike of death.
While writing her last poem before she died
Emily looked out the window of time
and saw me trying to hide behind the tree
where she gave me the apple of the serpent.
The young boy who was taken from his mother
draws her face with crayons on the blank wall,
then runs through the endless labyrinth of lies
till he wins election as governor.
© Surazeus
2018 07 06
The human heart is not a trampoline,
yet people are always jumping on mine
and launching themselves on Icarian wings
in vain efforts to leap the walls of Heaven.
Although some of the most heroic people
performed the greatest deeds of history,
they lived and died unknown to record keepers
so their names are lost in the winds of time.
When the man with crown of authority
tries to mute the journalist and the clown
we expose his crimes and make voodoo dolls
to overthrow the tyrant through his greed.
I want to learn how to fly the airplane
so I can ascend the clouds of the sky
and land before the palace where God lives
to ask him why people suffer and die.
We rearrange the dictionary words
to encode all the memories of mankind
in jaunty ballads no one ever sings
to avoid building cars in factories.
With every word I build the wall of dreams
to annotate the archetypes of souls
and record our experiences of life
as we attempt to evade strike of death.
While writing her last poem before she died
Emily looked out the window of time
and saw me trying to hide behind the tree
where she gave me the apple of the serpent.
The young boy who was taken from his mother
draws her face with crayons on the blank wall,
then runs through the endless labyrinth of lies
till he wins election as governor.
No comments:
Post a Comment