Ghost Of Her Desire
© Surazeus
2018 12 20
The gaunt face that screams from the silent wall
vanishes in puff of dust when I
laugh from horror at hunger of our hearts
that drive us to hallucinate the world.
Strange clamor of mute voices in the hall
clump concepts of analysis to show
why we know nothing beyond blurry scope
of rain-smeared windows fractured by the truth.
The blind man who stands stiff in pouring rain
sings riddles of forgotten truths we hide
inside serpent egg that glows in his hand
so he remembers your face in the glass.
Backward still in the house of broken chairs
the girl who loves me pastes my secret face
on every photograph of her she has
so I become the ghost of her desire.
You read ten thousand books of poetry
to understand the mystery she designs,
then weave conceptual riddles in new songs
that calculate the cost of love concealed.
The gaunt face that screams from the ancient tree
congeals in apple that falls in my hand
because spinning Earth hurls us at the sky
on rapid spiral through infinity.
On narrow country road between lush hills
far out in the meadows of Avalon
I face the giant bully I despise
and knock his statue in deep stream of tears.
Wandering mute in the house of broken chairs,
the girl who keeps my face inside her eye
paints shadow of my soul on singing tree
so I become the ghost of her desire.
When I leave behind the lush river shore,
I travel forward through waste land of fear
to find cave of shadows where spirits play
hide and seek with the maker of soul light.
I bury corpse of your god-king in dust
so the apple tree grows tall from his heart
rotten with lust of his ten thousand sons
who devour the souls of innocent children.
I could not rescue them from his blind greed
to control the destiny of our souls,
but I can protect children alive now,
teaching them to fight for democracy.
Dancing free in the house of broken chairs,
the girl who carves statue to catch my soul
kisses me alive from my angry state
so I become the ghost of her desire.
© Surazeus
2018 12 20
The gaunt face that screams from the silent wall
vanishes in puff of dust when I
laugh from horror at hunger of our hearts
that drive us to hallucinate the world.
Strange clamor of mute voices in the hall
clump concepts of analysis to show
why we know nothing beyond blurry scope
of rain-smeared windows fractured by the truth.
The blind man who stands stiff in pouring rain
sings riddles of forgotten truths we hide
inside serpent egg that glows in his hand
so he remembers your face in the glass.
Backward still in the house of broken chairs
the girl who loves me pastes my secret face
on every photograph of her she has
so I become the ghost of her desire.
You read ten thousand books of poetry
to understand the mystery she designs,
then weave conceptual riddles in new songs
that calculate the cost of love concealed.
The gaunt face that screams from the ancient tree
congeals in apple that falls in my hand
because spinning Earth hurls us at the sky
on rapid spiral through infinity.
On narrow country road between lush hills
far out in the meadows of Avalon
I face the giant bully I despise
and knock his statue in deep stream of tears.
Wandering mute in the house of broken chairs,
the girl who keeps my face inside her eye
paints shadow of my soul on singing tree
so I become the ghost of her desire.
When I leave behind the lush river shore,
I travel forward through waste land of fear
to find cave of shadows where spirits play
hide and seek with the maker of soul light.
I bury corpse of your god-king in dust
so the apple tree grows tall from his heart
rotten with lust of his ten thousand sons
who devour the souls of innocent children.
I could not rescue them from his blind greed
to control the destiny of our souls,
but I can protect children alive now,
teaching them to fight for democracy.
Dancing free in the house of broken chairs,
the girl who carves statue to catch my soul
kisses me alive from my angry state
so I become the ghost of her desire.
No comments:
Post a Comment