America My Lover
© Surazeus
2019 01 17
America, I give you everything,
and though I had nothing for many years,
as I walked invisible on your named roads,
I now control everything that exists
for I do nothing as I dwell on you
and everything flows on course of its will.
When I was young I could not stand my mind,
flashing wild hallucinations of truth,
but I typed quick as galloping of horses
to keep pace with spreading visions of change,
till I constructed vast cathedral maze
of ancient tales from weird words of your bones.
America, who contains multitudes
of lost souls, I know we will never end
the human war of intense competition
between opposing factions of the mind,
to conserve purity of the one tribe
or progress to unite all tribes as one.
The white-haired wizard of flashing photons
who taught us how to split the spinning atom
played violin under eternal blue skies
to calm our beating hearts during the cold war
when thousands of atom bombs stood in rows
of monstrous titans, poised to blast the world.
America, I see you on the beach
walking naked in cool pacific waves
to meditate for world peace in the wind,
angelic priestess of the cosmic mind
looking at yourself through the timeless grave
to see yourself mirrored in our blank faces.
I see the face of Trotsky in the mirror
when I walk streets of Seattle in rain
to find the lizard singing in my brain,
then from bright flash of lightning she comes,
Goddess of Liberty holding blank book
she gives me with mission to write my dreams.
America, I fill your library books
with tears of people struggling to survive,
whose names are written on the sands of time,
washed away by aggressive waves of war,
recording their tales with blood of their brains,
billions murdered in twentieth-century wars.
I walk the waste land of America,
leaving endless rain of Seattle behind
to stand on signless road of shining time
and sing weird riddle of the laughing clown
to prophesy coming of the Star Queen
who wakes inside the heart of every woman.
America, you are my paradise,
this evening land of Massachusetts mist
where refugees from fierce religious wars
sailed wild oceans to find and colonize,
building cities on bones of Onatah,
sweet corn maiden who haunts my waking dreams.
I walk away from church of bright illusions
to play harp of David on city streets
and build new world view of atomic truth
on ruins of religion I escaped,
composing scripture for the atheist
who howls wild anguish to quick traffic flow.
America, your apple blossoms fall
from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil
that grows in my backyard in Georgia town
where I sing to birds about human heroes
who rise from the dead to play King of Earth,
reborn in my children with my strange mind.
I map history of mankind who explores
wilderness of desire beyond walls of Heaven
to defeat cruel vampires of the waste land
when Russia and America make out,
lovers on the wide river of lost souls
that flows from mountains of death to the sea.
© Surazeus
2019 01 17
America, I give you everything,
and though I had nothing for many years,
as I walked invisible on your named roads,
I now control everything that exists
for I do nothing as I dwell on you
and everything flows on course of its will.
When I was young I could not stand my mind,
flashing wild hallucinations of truth,
but I typed quick as galloping of horses
to keep pace with spreading visions of change,
till I constructed vast cathedral maze
of ancient tales from weird words of your bones.
America, who contains multitudes
of lost souls, I know we will never end
the human war of intense competition
between opposing factions of the mind,
to conserve purity of the one tribe
or progress to unite all tribes as one.
The white-haired wizard of flashing photons
who taught us how to split the spinning atom
played violin under eternal blue skies
to calm our beating hearts during the cold war
when thousands of atom bombs stood in rows
of monstrous titans, poised to blast the world.
America, I see you on the beach
walking naked in cool pacific waves
to meditate for world peace in the wind,
angelic priestess of the cosmic mind
looking at yourself through the timeless grave
to see yourself mirrored in our blank faces.
I see the face of Trotsky in the mirror
when I walk streets of Seattle in rain
to find the lizard singing in my brain,
then from bright flash of lightning she comes,
Goddess of Liberty holding blank book
she gives me with mission to write my dreams.
America, I fill your library books
with tears of people struggling to survive,
whose names are written on the sands of time,
washed away by aggressive waves of war,
recording their tales with blood of their brains,
billions murdered in twentieth-century wars.
I walk the waste land of America,
leaving endless rain of Seattle behind
to stand on signless road of shining time
and sing weird riddle of the laughing clown
to prophesy coming of the Star Queen
who wakes inside the heart of every woman.
America, you are my paradise,
this evening land of Massachusetts mist
where refugees from fierce religious wars
sailed wild oceans to find and colonize,
building cities on bones of Onatah,
sweet corn maiden who haunts my waking dreams.
I walk away from church of bright illusions
to play harp of David on city streets
and build new world view of atomic truth
on ruins of religion I escaped,
composing scripture for the atheist
who howls wild anguish to quick traffic flow.
America, your apple blossoms fall
from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil
that grows in my backyard in Georgia town
where I sing to birds about human heroes
who rise from the dead to play King of Earth,
reborn in my children with my strange mind.
I map history of mankind who explores
wilderness of desire beyond walls of Heaven
to defeat cruel vampires of the waste land
when Russia and America make out,
lovers on the wide river of lost souls
that flows from mountains of death to the sea.
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