Reborn On Buddha Wheel

Reborn On Buddha Wheel
© Surazeus
2026 01 19

We are the lonely people of the world 
who stare at faceless portraits on the wall 
and listen to how sad violins fall 
in violent cascade of conceptual twirl, 
pretending we will never die of truth 
by wandering with the memory of Ruth. 

She always seems to know how we should feel 
as if our bitter hearts are forged from steel 
so we dare cross the street when lights blink red 
to scatter shouting demons from our head 
before the Lord returns on clouds of fire 
because my tone disharmonates the choir. 

Therefore we must exchange with laughing zeal 
these faces only angels dare to steal 
except how far the humming toad can reach 
my naked shadow shivering on the beach 
too late to be reborn on Buddha Wheel 
that twists timeline of my fate beyond real. 

Yet when I pause on jagged cliff of rage 
at startled turning of the wordless page 
I feel strange dizzy twirling of the world 
that asks not how swift my soul could be hurled 
against aggressive wall of honesty 
since I am stuck in play Absurdity. 

When Emily rides black carriage with Death 
I force my body to inhale deep breath 
that swells my heart huge as hot-air balloon 
which floats my fractured skull up to the moon 
where rabbit on blue car remembers why 
every organic creature wants to fly. 

Alone on global stage of star-cursed fame, 
I sing with hope that old cromulent hymn 
composed by Gabriel in the subway car 
to translate scream of dragons stuck in tar 
with dulcet tones of our blind nightingale, 
encoding way to find the Holy Grail. 

Since I have know the kind judgmental eyes 
that fix me wriggling on the godless skies, 
I shall presume to rule the world with love 
expressed through wisdom of the howling dove 
that gleams in lamplight of Diogenes 
whose lovely Mermaid gives me broken keys. 

I wear mask of Prince Hamlet to the ball 
to start world revolution at the fall 
of nine aggressive tyrants when the stone 
of Sisyphus rolls with the golden bone 
that crushes Nebuchadnezzar to dust, 
then dance on skull of Ozymandias.