Ten Million Beautiful Girls
© Surazeus
2018 11 27
Fragile as pale blue egg, my rancid heart
exhales foul fog over empty town streets
that wind far through aching memory of when
we walked together on vast windy beach.
My head is nothing more than empty jewel
projecting human memories at blank walls
to channel wordless howls of homeless ghosts
who long for life beyond unconsciousness.
Every girl who was murdered in the dark,
and fell terrified into bottomless well,
gathers around me in pale afternoon
where I sit alone on a bench in the park.
Tell my story, they beg me with huge eyes
of horror that swallows the happy sun
to spiral downward in thought hurricane,
but the devil always shoots memory spies.
I could write ten million tales of their deaths,
or I could write one and include them all,
for their losses are tragically the same,
free spirit murdered by aggressive greed.
Ten million beautiful girls were destroyed
by ten million angry boys who had failed
to control vibrant energy of hope
to possess her body they cannot own.
Her body belongs to herself alone,
so you must respect her choice to decide
whether or not she wants to share with you,
and leave her alone if she declares no.
I see their spirits dancing on the plain,
ten million beautiful girls I must love
for they were destroyed by hands of cruel boys
so they haunt my heart wherever I go.
When I walk on the windy beach at dawn
I look into the shadows of the light,
hoping to see beautiful girl alive
with vibrant hope to taste pleasure of love.
What strange angel of light rises from waves
to snatch word-expressing tongue from my mouth
and replace it with bold serpent of truth
so every word I sing strikes hearts of men?
I want to hold Truth Angel in my arms
and sire wise children from her fertile womb
so my songs live forever in winged books
that beam memories of loss in dreaming minds.
I am one spirit in ten million bodies,
singing our memories in enchanting poems
as ten million poets in countless towns
who preserve our stories in songs of life.
© Surazeus
2018 11 27
Fragile as pale blue egg, my rancid heart
exhales foul fog over empty town streets
that wind far through aching memory of when
we walked together on vast windy beach.
My head is nothing more than empty jewel
projecting human memories at blank walls
to channel wordless howls of homeless ghosts
who long for life beyond unconsciousness.
Every girl who was murdered in the dark,
and fell terrified into bottomless well,
gathers around me in pale afternoon
where I sit alone on a bench in the park.
Tell my story, they beg me with huge eyes
of horror that swallows the happy sun
to spiral downward in thought hurricane,
but the devil always shoots memory spies.
I could write ten million tales of their deaths,
or I could write one and include them all,
for their losses are tragically the same,
free spirit murdered by aggressive greed.
Ten million beautiful girls were destroyed
by ten million angry boys who had failed
to control vibrant energy of hope
to possess her body they cannot own.
Her body belongs to herself alone,
so you must respect her choice to decide
whether or not she wants to share with you,
and leave her alone if she declares no.
I see their spirits dancing on the plain,
ten million beautiful girls I must love
for they were destroyed by hands of cruel boys
so they haunt my heart wherever I go.
When I walk on the windy beach at dawn
I look into the shadows of the light,
hoping to see beautiful girl alive
with vibrant hope to taste pleasure of love.
What strange angel of light rises from waves
to snatch word-expressing tongue from my mouth
and replace it with bold serpent of truth
so every word I sing strikes hearts of men?
I want to hold Truth Angel in my arms
and sire wise children from her fertile womb
so my songs live forever in winged books
that beam memories of loss in dreaming minds.
I am one spirit in ten million bodies,
singing our memories in enchanting poems
as ten million poets in countless towns
who preserve our stories in songs of life.
No comments:
Post a Comment