Absence Of Auspicious Love © Surazeus 2026 04 18 To buy dragon eggs at the grocery store, I carry magic box of blinking eyes, reluctant to transcend limits of thought as if I am the tragic money man who always stumbles on the muddy road though I stare at the ghost on the front porch. To dive in lake of pain before dawn light, I watch collapsing century resurge with monstrous tenderness of berry jam which teaches me importance of dream facts to avoid the trap of hiding regret for living blasphemously without pride. To ransack archives of personal taste, I dismiss surprises of history smeared with melancholy colors of hope which suit my vibrant life style on the town when I perform dramatic scenes to prove lessons of survival trick me with wealth. To relax in burning building of faith, I write strange thought formulas on chalk boards that describe how flowers explode from brains through social ideologies of power that divide us into factions of blind greed, impersonal as mountains that drink clouds. To analyze photographs of blurred ghosts, I stand beside the stop sign near the park and count how many chances I have missed in vain attempts to evade curse of fame that dogs my footsteps past the Promised Land till I attend inauguration balls. To formulate myself as almost real, I break into meaningless tomb of fear where skeleton of Jesus, cracked by fate, crumbles into gold dust of burned-out stars, so I stand trembling on the global stage and erase heroes from national myths. To join my neighbors at the barbecue, I untwist proverbs from roots of dead trees disguised as telephone lines of contempt that beam puzzling riddles to glowing screens reflecting faces in masks of dead gods whom we perform all day with reticence. To try ingenuous mode with bitter guile, I measure changing contours of the world where priests lead believers in maze of lies because in the end every person dies, for every fake belief in holy books blinds me to absence of auspicious love.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
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Saturday, April 18, 2026
Absence Of Auspicious Love
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Orpheus fixes the broken door of the abandoned church by the bankrupt refrigerator factory near the railroad tracks of the small midwestern town where grandson of Jesus runs the gas station.
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