Fantastic Beasts Of Social Games
© Surazeus
2018 11 17
Strange operation of his broken mind
twirls dancing on naked piano wires
to find resurrection in sparkling wine
where angels make love on cathedral spires.
We chase fantastic beasts of social games
though winding maze of secret fame to bower
where oldest girl in the world invents names
we contemplate when we study the flower.
He tells us how he found the ancient book
recounting legends of arrogant kings
who now run corporations for the crook
to weave tax dollars in successful wings.
We gather in cathedral before dawn
to worship mortal man as divine god
so he makes us march on the White House lawn
as punishment for calling him the fraud.
Will they cut off my hands with screaming saw
for chanting satires about their cheating deeds
since politicians cower when ravens caw
though plain folk grow gardens from stolen seeds?
The dead cannot complain about our songs
that mock the living for crimes they commit
so we harass cruel zombies for their wrongs
to disguise their misdeeds in witty skit.
The mafia thug who thinks he rules the world
slouches on gold throne to tweet rage with lies
while goons march where the slave-flag flies unfurled
who dare shout Nazi slogans at blank skies.
Quick evanescence of her whirling mind
leaps mirror gateway through transcendent dream
to feel bright truth which pulsing atoms bind
when we kiss together by timeless stream.
© Surazeus
2018 11 17
Strange operation of his broken mind
twirls dancing on naked piano wires
to find resurrection in sparkling wine
where angels make love on cathedral spires.
We chase fantastic beasts of social games
though winding maze of secret fame to bower
where oldest girl in the world invents names
we contemplate when we study the flower.
He tells us how he found the ancient book
recounting legends of arrogant kings
who now run corporations for the crook
to weave tax dollars in successful wings.
We gather in cathedral before dawn
to worship mortal man as divine god
so he makes us march on the White House lawn
as punishment for calling him the fraud.
Will they cut off my hands with screaming saw
for chanting satires about their cheating deeds
since politicians cower when ravens caw
though plain folk grow gardens from stolen seeds?
The dead cannot complain about our songs
that mock the living for crimes they commit
so we harass cruel zombies for their wrongs
to disguise their misdeeds in witty skit.
The mafia thug who thinks he rules the world
slouches on gold throne to tweet rage with lies
while goons march where the slave-flag flies unfurled
who dare shout Nazi slogans at blank skies.
Quick evanescence of her whirling mind
leaps mirror gateway through transcendent dream
to feel bright truth which pulsing atoms bind
when we kiss together by timeless stream.
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