Wild River Of Lost Dreams
© Surazeus
2019 02 07
These dead angels from rotting tree of truth
have followed me for more than fifty years
in shadows of horror that linger bright
around bundled tension of broken wings
I keep hidden inside my twisted arms
which makes me code riddles of their weird faith
to map back home wild river of lost dreams.
Love flows away in current of despair
to clock slow ticking of atomic cells
when striking hour of violent hope declines
though we form bridge with all-embracing arms
since we dissolve in everlasting gaze
to follow blanked-out signs through naked maze
and stumble to wild river of lost dreams.
Blind Phoenix rising from pyre of world war
veils ten thousand cities of broken towers
with glowing embers blasted from our hearts
though sirens sing old heart-enchanting spells
to wake this self-engendered ghost from hell
who skips with laughter on deserted street
which leads us to wild river of lost dreams.
Glow Cloud of love looms over trembling towns
where bellowing herd of terrified souls
follow statue of dead god through glass maze
of glowing screens where crackling flames explain
strange pictures smiling in gloomy museum
where Lady of Rebirth looks down from stars
when we follow wild river of lost dreams.
Awake on silver shore of angry sea,
I find old fractured statue of my soul
that blossoms lightning from heart of the rose
revealing evanescent mask of hope
I wear to hide contempt for blinding laws
when egg of chaos dragon becomes me
still slithering up wild river of lost dreams.
Urged on by vanity of foolish faith,
I navigate my journey through gold hills
where mocking mist of arrogance defies
my fragile dignity through treasured jinx
to swim in silver mere of naked ghosts
who calculate hour of my mundane death
now baptized in wild river of lost dreams.
When Priestess Rahab rides her scarlet beast
up shining pyramid where Ishtar reigned,
she offers me gold cup of mushroom wine
so I imbibe and we make love all night
to generate ten thousand savior kings
who rule all nations of this spinning globe
when I rise from wild river of lost dreams.
On Pegasus of flaming wings at dawn
Apollinaire descends from court of Heaven
to give me lyre he stole from Mercury
and shows me how to cast enchanting spells
that weave weird visions of surreal veracity
when I evolve from ape to singing angel
drowned alone in wild river of lost dreams.
© Surazeus
2019 02 07
These dead angels from rotting tree of truth
have followed me for more than fifty years
in shadows of horror that linger bright
around bundled tension of broken wings
I keep hidden inside my twisted arms
which makes me code riddles of their weird faith
to map back home wild river of lost dreams.
Love flows away in current of despair
to clock slow ticking of atomic cells
when striking hour of violent hope declines
though we form bridge with all-embracing arms
since we dissolve in everlasting gaze
to follow blanked-out signs through naked maze
and stumble to wild river of lost dreams.
Blind Phoenix rising from pyre of world war
veils ten thousand cities of broken towers
with glowing embers blasted from our hearts
though sirens sing old heart-enchanting spells
to wake this self-engendered ghost from hell
who skips with laughter on deserted street
which leads us to wild river of lost dreams.
Glow Cloud of love looms over trembling towns
where bellowing herd of terrified souls
follow statue of dead god through glass maze
of glowing screens where crackling flames explain
strange pictures smiling in gloomy museum
where Lady of Rebirth looks down from stars
when we follow wild river of lost dreams.
Awake on silver shore of angry sea,
I find old fractured statue of my soul
that blossoms lightning from heart of the rose
revealing evanescent mask of hope
I wear to hide contempt for blinding laws
when egg of chaos dragon becomes me
still slithering up wild river of lost dreams.
Urged on by vanity of foolish faith,
I navigate my journey through gold hills
where mocking mist of arrogance defies
my fragile dignity through treasured jinx
to swim in silver mere of naked ghosts
who calculate hour of my mundane death
now baptized in wild river of lost dreams.
When Priestess Rahab rides her scarlet beast
up shining pyramid where Ishtar reigned,
she offers me gold cup of mushroom wine
so I imbibe and we make love all night
to generate ten thousand savior kings
who rule all nations of this spinning globe
when I rise from wild river of lost dreams.
On Pegasus of flaming wings at dawn
Apollinaire descends from court of Heaven
to give me lyre he stole from Mercury
and shows me how to cast enchanting spells
that weave weird visions of surreal veracity
when I evolve from ape to singing angel
drowned alone in wild river of lost dreams.
Le Pont Mirabeau and Zone by Apollinaire
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