Weird Winter Noons

Weird Winter Noons
© Surazeus
2022 01 25

Against sweet wickedness of silent hope 
we drink electric rain of nothing real 
to taste beloved ruins no one builds 
concealed in bland dominion we avoid 
because we always know pathetic wish 
erases meaning we gamble to lose. 

Far less that we intend to wake from dream 
we still must diagnose how sounds escape 
fake colors our hands smear across steel sky 
through godlike consciousness we choose to sell 
for neural flashes washed by shocking truth 
that alters love we never could recall. 

Each sea that disappears in tears of gods 
hauls naked monster my mute soul rebirths 
from seething mystery rhymed by hungry waves 
past fraught impediments from marriage torn 
since I want now and always to share feast 
with nameless ghost of you who haunts my now. 

Rosebud mouth of hunger I must become 
at feral roar too sweet to qualify 
lights bilious surfeit more wretched than lust 
when I drink milk that flows from pungent Earth 
at surging tide of dream from rancid pool 
deep as abyss that seethes my hollow heart. 

Beneath insomniac glare of city towers 
with wretched hope of screaming siren spells 
we share mute glances blinded by house dust 
of stern possession docile as fierce owl 
who understands my heart-contorting awe 
that I transcend familiar foreign me. 

Despite this gentle anguish we still smell 
long scented sour as rotting plums of faith 
we follow taut tomato vines beyond 
abyss of loneness through weird winter noons 
too scared to name indifferent beast we love 
when cows inside school classrooms laugh at death. 

We walk barefoot on signless road of coals 
halfway through waste land vast as nothingness 
with eyeless wind that lingers in tall grass 
though we know why the caged bird never sings 
narrower than oceans inside my heart 
where wingless angels drown in glowing words. 

Glamour of thoughts concealed by shell of words 
reveals where Remus waits for his first love 
though she creates my body from soft clay 
to prove sea slime still animates my brain 
that spirals ten thousand possible clouds 
which might reflect the face I give to you.