Memoir Never Written
© Surazeus
2018 11 01
The wind grabs the pages of my memoir
and throws them out across the laughing world,
scattering my false memories on dirty streets
so nameless strangers keep them for themselves.
They plaster the pages of my memoir
over their faces to hide their disdain
about the nighttime voyage I took home
to lie down in the television coffin.
When I wake in the middle of my life,
hungry for fresh milk of the alien song
that Death makes from oranges and chocolate
I record it all in my fake memoir.
My grandmother trods shoeless in wet mud
to gather eggs from chickens in dawn frost
then fills my brain with flame of glowing candles
so I can carve my memoirs on the tree.
When I open the door of my last home
sorrows waiting in gloom ten thousand years
burst in flock of butterflies at my face
as puzzle pieces for my new memoir.
After rain leaves her tears in pools on streets
three rainbows blast through my eyes to reveal
your secret motive for ignoring me
even though I have erased my memoir.
The ghost of her absence in empty chair
reflects backward time our clockmaker maps
straight past ruins of churches where God weeps
to dazzle blood letters of my memoir.
I build walls of Heaven with my memoir
published by star-enchanted girl of air
who laughs pleased at my invisible wings
while I invent secret code no one reads.
I read ten thousand poems of nameless spies
who steal visions from memoir never written
however grave our balanced scale of truth
flashes dark matter from our emptiness.
Clear evanescent gleams of naked words
expose my skeleton through paper skin
from shame engulfing my memoir of boasts,
printed with invisible ink in books.
Abandon lonely being in misty hills
concealed in Scotland where I was not born
so lack of ambition urges my heart
to translate my memoir to ocean waves.
When my messiah robe gets smeared with mud
from city streets after hurricane rain
I wash it in blood of the lamb to prove
I am faceless king in castle of mirrors.
I am the emptiness of my memoir
revealed only when we look in the mirror
to perceive backward flow of timeless growth
since Azrael invites me to play chess.
She shows me weird dream of expanding flame
to prove singular will multiplies souls
woven by genetic code to transform
conceptual cloud into memoir of growth.
Three angels assemble my dreaming mind
from tangled threads of flashing light to see
I stand on seashore, singing my memoir,
so now I must be ready to ask why.
Darkness of truth cannot hide my desire
to record all human history in verse
that calculates swirl of cause and effect
for stereotypes who hide in my memoir.
These promising riddles of ancient truth,
rhyming querulous tone of naked lust,
reveal desolation of moonlit water
which I keep stored forgotten in memoir.
Through silver color of water I breathe
exquisite flash from quick laugh of the sun
more radiant than mirror of staring eyes
when distant rock of dust watches me live.
The sea will never be frightened like me
since I race horses on chess board of fact
inverted as words on walls of tomorrow
so true they glow opaque in my memoir.
The wind brings soaked pages of my memoir
never written from heaven of fruit trees
so I assemble narrative more true
scratched inside abandoned crown of justice.
© Surazeus
2018 11 01
The wind grabs the pages of my memoir
and throws them out across the laughing world,
scattering my false memories on dirty streets
so nameless strangers keep them for themselves.
They plaster the pages of my memoir
over their faces to hide their disdain
about the nighttime voyage I took home
to lie down in the television coffin.
When I wake in the middle of my life,
hungry for fresh milk of the alien song
that Death makes from oranges and chocolate
I record it all in my fake memoir.
My grandmother trods shoeless in wet mud
to gather eggs from chickens in dawn frost
then fills my brain with flame of glowing candles
so I can carve my memoirs on the tree.
When I open the door of my last home
sorrows waiting in gloom ten thousand years
burst in flock of butterflies at my face
as puzzle pieces for my new memoir.
After rain leaves her tears in pools on streets
three rainbows blast through my eyes to reveal
your secret motive for ignoring me
even though I have erased my memoir.
The ghost of her absence in empty chair
reflects backward time our clockmaker maps
straight past ruins of churches where God weeps
to dazzle blood letters of my memoir.
I build walls of Heaven with my memoir
published by star-enchanted girl of air
who laughs pleased at my invisible wings
while I invent secret code no one reads.
I read ten thousand poems of nameless spies
who steal visions from memoir never written
however grave our balanced scale of truth
flashes dark matter from our emptiness.
Clear evanescent gleams of naked words
expose my skeleton through paper skin
from shame engulfing my memoir of boasts,
printed with invisible ink in books.
Abandon lonely being in misty hills
concealed in Scotland where I was not born
so lack of ambition urges my heart
to translate my memoir to ocean waves.
When my messiah robe gets smeared with mud
from city streets after hurricane rain
I wash it in blood of the lamb to prove
I am faceless king in castle of mirrors.
I am the emptiness of my memoir
revealed only when we look in the mirror
to perceive backward flow of timeless growth
since Azrael invites me to play chess.
She shows me weird dream of expanding flame
to prove singular will multiplies souls
woven by genetic code to transform
conceptual cloud into memoir of growth.
Three angels assemble my dreaming mind
from tangled threads of flashing light to see
I stand on seashore, singing my memoir,
so now I must be ready to ask why.
Darkness of truth cannot hide my desire
to record all human history in verse
that calculates swirl of cause and effect
for stereotypes who hide in my memoir.
These promising riddles of ancient truth,
rhyming querulous tone of naked lust,
reveal desolation of moonlit water
which I keep stored forgotten in memoir.
Through silver color of water I breathe
exquisite flash from quick laugh of the sun
more radiant than mirror of staring eyes
when distant rock of dust watches me live.
The sea will never be frightened like me
since I race horses on chess board of fact
inverted as words on walls of tomorrow
so true they glow opaque in my memoir.
The wind brings soaked pages of my memoir
never written from heaven of fruit trees
so I assemble narrative more true
scratched inside abandoned crown of justice.
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