When I Invent Heaven
© Surazeus
2018 07 25
Now that I am almost about to die
I must express my vision in these words
to side-step silence of annihilation
and leave some part of myself shining still
after eternal gloom of death devours
aching spirit which animates my mind.
The world of things persists outside my mind
while my brain creates its dream of the world,
so all I call the world is but dim shadow
of this demonic substance which I am,
the perpetual creation of weird powers
of thought that conjure models of the world.
I design the circumstance of my dream
for I weave elements of my perceptions
in tapestry of vision which creates
this endless labyrinth of my own world view
to guide my way true through the real world maze
when I invent Heaven from the Waste Land.
My mind is modified by what I see,
transformed by objects of nature and art,
so every word I hear spoken, and speak,
acts upon taut web of my consciousness
as mirror on which all forms are reflected
when I compose them in one fluid form.
I create the dream by which I perceive
the seething drama of our social age,
so I am the creation of this age,
director describing play of desires
by composing monologues I will speak
when I perform the role that I designed.
When wings of Alastor sprout on my back
I soar upward over ruins of world views,
constructed by poets and philosophers
over four thousand years of endless song,
then I am thrown backward by stream of words
and fall from Hell to create my own Heaven.
I wander beyond the limits of thought,
defined by all philosophers before,
to explore beyond their experiences
and construct new perimeter of truth
to measure paradise inside high walls
where my children may thrive to explore more.
When I at last scale the cliff of old truth,
through extravagant leap of haughty faith
to overcome mute weakness of my fear,
I attain sublime peace of dream landscapes
that shine within the scope of my whole mind,
estranged from myself to become myself.
So when I see the pain my crimes have caused
I stab out my eyes to see the true light
that beams from the sun blazing in my heart,
transforming into the demon I am
who prophesies how the world will become
since my words create the world I desire.
Since I am free of individual will
I become the medium of chanting spells
through which the True Subject of my real self
celebrates my redemption in illusion,
conjured by weird sentences of my verse
swerving through mist in perverse elocution.
At every moment I utter new spells,
attempting to define process of change,
electric currents of atoms surge thick
in vibrant waves of vegetating lust,
erupt outside linguistic bonds of truth,
and recreate the world I dream is real.
Exploding torrents of visions I dream
demonize my soul from egg of One Soul
to divide my self through ancestral selves,
and thus distribute words in falling rain
which sprout ten thousand trees of juicy fruit
so you feast on tales of heroes I sing.
Baffled and balked by my arrogant pride,
I bend in humble hope to humid Earth,
oppressed by horror that I dared to sing
so all my words recoil to bind my heart,
shocked I cannot recognize my own soul
since the real Me hovers above the world.
O nameless demonic angel of Me,
influence my wretched body with spirit
flowing from the mouth of my loving Muse
who reveals Earth is indifferent to me,
so I reweave my scattered selves in mask
which contains multitudes in my One Self.
Once I could see the world with open eyes
as it is illuminated by bright sun rays,
but now I dream the world that I desire
darkened by revelation of my blindness
so from deep inside myself I soar outward
to become the new self I name this hour.
Oedipus gives me his new pair of eyes,
Vulcan hammers metal into my body,
Thor shoots lightning to animate my mind,
Urthona twists my tongue to spark my speech,
Tiresias binds the serpent in my spine,
and Orpheus twangs the vibe of my heart.
Through ecstasy of my spiraling heart
I step outside the stasis of my mind
to dance unfettered on the glorious plain
in ring of stones where errant stars align
to flash the vision of ten thousand years
congealed within the spell of words I chant.
At last I see the sun-lit face of truth
revealing soul of the Covering Cherub
whose divine face mirrors my own strange face,
so I laugh with the voice of ocean waves
to question the mystery I always knew
when I realize the one I love is you.
© Surazeus
2018 07 25
Now that I am almost about to die
I must express my vision in these words
to side-step silence of annihilation
and leave some part of myself shining still
after eternal gloom of death devours
aching spirit which animates my mind.
The world of things persists outside my mind
while my brain creates its dream of the world,
so all I call the world is but dim shadow
of this demonic substance which I am,
the perpetual creation of weird powers
of thought that conjure models of the world.
I design the circumstance of my dream
for I weave elements of my perceptions
in tapestry of vision which creates
this endless labyrinth of my own world view
to guide my way true through the real world maze
when I invent Heaven from the Waste Land.
My mind is modified by what I see,
transformed by objects of nature and art,
so every word I hear spoken, and speak,
acts upon taut web of my consciousness
as mirror on which all forms are reflected
when I compose them in one fluid form.
I create the dream by which I perceive
the seething drama of our social age,
so I am the creation of this age,
director describing play of desires
by composing monologues I will speak
when I perform the role that I designed.
When wings of Alastor sprout on my back
I soar upward over ruins of world views,
constructed by poets and philosophers
over four thousand years of endless song,
then I am thrown backward by stream of words
and fall from Hell to create my own Heaven.
I wander beyond the limits of thought,
defined by all philosophers before,
to explore beyond their experiences
and construct new perimeter of truth
to measure paradise inside high walls
where my children may thrive to explore more.
When I at last scale the cliff of old truth,
through extravagant leap of haughty faith
to overcome mute weakness of my fear,
I attain sublime peace of dream landscapes
that shine within the scope of my whole mind,
estranged from myself to become myself.
So when I see the pain my crimes have caused
I stab out my eyes to see the true light
that beams from the sun blazing in my heart,
transforming into the demon I am
who prophesies how the world will become
since my words create the world I desire.
Since I am free of individual will
I become the medium of chanting spells
through which the True Subject of my real self
celebrates my redemption in illusion,
conjured by weird sentences of my verse
swerving through mist in perverse elocution.
At every moment I utter new spells,
attempting to define process of change,
electric currents of atoms surge thick
in vibrant waves of vegetating lust,
erupt outside linguistic bonds of truth,
and recreate the world I dream is real.
Exploding torrents of visions I dream
demonize my soul from egg of One Soul
to divide my self through ancestral selves,
and thus distribute words in falling rain
which sprout ten thousand trees of juicy fruit
so you feast on tales of heroes I sing.
Baffled and balked by my arrogant pride,
I bend in humble hope to humid Earth,
oppressed by horror that I dared to sing
so all my words recoil to bind my heart,
shocked I cannot recognize my own soul
since the real Me hovers above the world.
O nameless demonic angel of Me,
influence my wretched body with spirit
flowing from the mouth of my loving Muse
who reveals Earth is indifferent to me,
so I reweave my scattered selves in mask
which contains multitudes in my One Self.
Once I could see the world with open eyes
as it is illuminated by bright sun rays,
but now I dream the world that I desire
darkened by revelation of my blindness
so from deep inside myself I soar outward
to become the new self I name this hour.
Oedipus gives me his new pair of eyes,
Vulcan hammers metal into my body,
Thor shoots lightning to animate my mind,
Urthona twists my tongue to spark my speech,
Tiresias binds the serpent in my spine,
and Orpheus twangs the vibe of my heart.
Through ecstasy of my spiraling heart
I step outside the stasis of my mind
to dance unfettered on the glorious plain
in ring of stones where errant stars align
to flash the vision of ten thousand years
congealed within the spell of words I chant.
At last I see the sun-lit face of truth
revealing soul of the Covering Cherub
whose divine face mirrors my own strange face,
so I laugh with the voice of ocean waves
to question the mystery I always knew
when I realize the one I love is you.
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