Saturday, January 26, 2019

Index Of Iconic Scenes

Index Of Iconic Scenes
© Surazeus
2019 01 26

No matter what experiences I have had,
while pushing through tangled thickets of hopes
in disorganized maze of unmapped plays,
these riddling tales I weave in prancing verse
just barely reflect those convoluted depths
of heart-rending intensity I feel
while chasing rainbows in wild laughing rain.

These soul-vibrating songs might seem to show
refracting matrix of emotional plates
that could extend my suffering, diffidence,
or joy through index of iconic scenes,
but all you see are words arranged in lines
of defined concepts that reflect your thoughts
which duplicate double image of mine.

I disappear in taut text I compose
so my real flesh and blood complexity
will vanish into shadow-flashing mist
of metaphorical dreams which contain
boiling blood of my emotions distilled
to sweet wine you can drink to savor taste
of my wild passion transformed to song.

Thus you can dream my real experience
of wandering lost in maze of twirling eyes
so when you see those signs I indicate
you can avoid slough of despond that caught
my swift aggressive footsteps in thick sludge
of heart-numbing despair to leap beyond
wall of my failure and find your true way.

Through quick expression of melodious spells
I rip expanding shadows of my soul
in rippling patterns of active reform
to weave confusing desires into wings
which I can spread to soar on breath of hope
and fly above weird labyrinths of vast cities,
then navigate to paradise I build.

Like visionary Doctor Frankenstein,
I assemble body parts of dead gods,
sewing them into body of the poem
with conceptual threads of beaming ideas,
then spark its heartbeat to pulse with hot strike
of angry despair that flashes awake
monster of my experiences with life.

Though they try to lock me in cage of duty
to neutralize flare of my prophecies
they cannot mute pulsing song of my heart
nor silence agony of hope we share
for I will sing all darkness into light
and water seeds of dreams with tears of love
to harvest apples from our Tree of Truth.

With words I organize chaos of life,
arranging wild emotions of desire
in neatly patterned gardens of wise proverbs,
then construct moral values in high walls
to enclose confusion of angry lust
in careful dramas of law-composed poems
that give meaning to weird experiences.

Now wearing mask of dead god, I revived
to conceal emotions behind blank face
of socially acceptable expressions,
I prance on stage of global theater
to portray weird archetype of messiah
who journeys to underworld of despair
and returns with sacred fruit of delight.

I follow footsteps of ten thousand prophets
who attended rituals in Cave of Shadows
and dream ideas of eternal forms
composed of atoms on our twirling world
to perceive matter in patterns of types
which spiral in hologram of our dreams
embodied in words beamed from the White Whole.

I sing the body of the world in poems
so we perceive its chaos organized
in whole ontology of being the Mind
who wakes from flashing of bright neuron cells
woven into humorous organic brain
who sees its face in mirror of the world
polished by words that beam from songs of truth.

No comments:

Post a Comment