Transient Space Of Why © Surazeus 2022 12 15 Fidelity to surface of the world leaves spectral residue from faceless mask through spirit photography of lost souls who float with sharp eyes in the maze of myths where we all find each other stereotyped as stock characters forgotten by time. Still climbing stairs above museum hall, we tell each other stories of our sorrow to stand on parapet of somewhere else, regretting every bridge we fail to cross on journey through the hall of nameless ghosts who linger in the transient space of why. Historical scale of our untold tales, redolent with smell of car engine oil, expands outside parameters of faith so ballads crooned by faceless seers of love define new global religion we share as we ride the train in silent despair. The spectral settings where we live our hopes require tables in port city hotels as spiritual haunts where our shadows wait for someone to call on the telephone as mist shrouds midnight streets with golden glow though fruit trees sprout inside my global skull. Clever mimicry of the old suitcase, containing all the dreams that never sell, reveals new code for dead souls to transform from apple seeds to angels without wings who keep photos in pockets of their coats while riding trains across the prairie grass. Interior specter of each photo lost tries to associate its long-forgotten name with phone number in the delicate book smeared by winter rain of Chicago nights when kings assassinate beloved fools who claim their sacred right to vote for Death. Contingent on achievement of success defined by stark attention of the blind, my heart sprouts wings I steal from Icarus to leap beyond the endless maze of myth so I can lounge at Pegasus Cafe and watch ships glide on the river all day. Fidelity to anguish of the heart contrives new modes of psychic artistry so I can calculate how concepts change in slowly shifting tides of social faith when I sail through storm to Byzantium where Ishtar maps our multiverse of truth.
Thursday, December 15, 2022
Transient Space Of Why
Global Serpent Queen
Global Serpent Queen © Surazeus 2022 12 15 Descending from mountain of prophecy, where wingless angels sing with waterfalls, I pause in trackless woods where Odin dwells and think about way of democracy we humans devise to give every soul freedom to achieve their personal goal. Though monsters lurk in shadows of the woods where wild nameless children play hide and seek I gaze with longing at the mountain peak where forces of nature embody gods who play movie stars on the silver screen as puppets of our global Serpent Queen. Once I reach the bottom-most vale of Hell I decide to skate on the frozen lake where Lucifer teaches me what is fake and what is real as Runes in the Dream Well, so I wear mask of the Many-Faced God when he hires me to join his Justice Squad. Though King Midas plots political coup, intending to repossess the White House, Death shackles him with the blind albatross till second coming of the Kangaroo who tries to kill birds in the world town square but Godiva still rules Scarborough Fair. My little horse with apple in her eye gives her harness bells a vigorous shake so we continue on to Demon Lake where Socrates drinks tea and wonders why world empires always vanish into dream while I fish in the cool mountain stream. Just as I arrive at the Gates of Heaven three angels with last message to mankind dissolve into butterflies of my mind so I accept mushroom from the Oak Raven which sparks in neural network of my brain vision of evolution in green rain. One hundred years after Tiresias wanders the waste land across Idaho I wake with aching heart of Romeo driving dark rain-wet streets of Vilnius to find Ophelia singing by the sea after she performs role of Liberty. Amazed at beauty of Multnomah Falls, I wonder how I found Elysium, purged by mental code of delirium, so I carve epic poem on temple walls to memorialize wise seekers of truth as incarnations of messiah sleuth.
Golden Songbird Of Byzantium
Golden Songbird Of Byzantium © Surazeus 2022 12 15 If golden songbird of Byzantium reveals strange sunlight to my bleeding eyes I could perceive vast personality of that blind seer inside dark mountain cave who sees beyond material forms of words to float with stars throughout eternity. Yet I fall back in frame of mortal flesh which conjures conscious god-mind of my brain to laugh with ache of joy how everything still shines with timeless beauty of its being so I would dance with you in moonlit rain to feel our bodies vibe with cosmic mesh. The ghosts of people whose names I forget haunt dim shadows from late afternoon light with silent judgment in my cluttered room where I arrange fragments of strange events in complicated puzzle of world history to see where I am now in maze of myths. Frail paper lantern of my dreaming brain illuminates truths I fear to observe in faces of monsters lurking through time to consume cities men build from bread loaves so I look at my face in broken mirror hoping to see first mother of the world. Waking up in the middle of the stream with my hungry mouth full of unknown words, I sing electric body of my brain which shoots ten thousand angels at the sea where they transform into clones of my mind and wear mask of my face with jesting love. Across teeming estuaries of hope I try to sail home to Byzantium but end up in pristine Chesapeake Bay where I transform from the Owl to the Wolf then run into old woods on rainbow wings to contemplate sweet mystery of our being. Though trapped inside glass television screen I sing prophecies Orpheus concealed to calculate how far I must evolve in psychic phase of surrealist humor to become the God religions invent till my soul freezes into marble statue. When I find blind seer in dark mountain cave she reveals to astonished crowd of seekers that golden songbird of Byzantium dwells in the heart of every human soul so we hold hands by lake of eyes to sing before the meteor demolishes Earth.
Wednesday, December 14, 2022
Savor Weird Of Life
Savor Weird Of Life © Surazeus 2022 12 14 The star that shimmers with beauty of truth high above this world of suffering and fear mocks my reliance on uncertain faith so I float forever through open door to program how my brain perceives the world as natural flow where atoms process forms. My ancestors saw God up in the stars when the wild-eyed shaman in voiceless wind converted them to vision of his mind because he saw his father extend hands to mold river clay in the Holy Grail that holds mushroom honey wine of the truth. Though atoms swirl into organic forms based on carbon rings that spiral in genes as natural process of chemical lust our brains imagine supernatural Mind designs how matter formulates our being according to pattern of thought control. I traverse the problem of solipsism by noting limitations of my mind so I can approach my comedic role to participate in cultural unity which may no longer be accessible when I unname myself separate from Nature. I find it weird that unsubsidized Nature generates my body from molecules which nurtures my brain with self-consciousness though Nature is indifferent to my being for I am but experiment of atoms which designs me to embody God Mind. Nature weaves my brain from water and light so I glow bright with divine consciousness to become God awake with dream of time long enough to generate from my body new body that will live after I die so my atoms return to Mother Nature. Mother Nature designs my organic being then throws me into world of hungry creatures so we organize gang of common cause to defend each other in haven walls as we raise children that spring from our bodies who carry on traditions we devise. While I gaze at beautiful star of truth I dream whole history of the universe when all the spinning galaxies of worlds spring from the cosmic egg of the god mind which randomly generates me from light so I savor weird of life before I die.
Because I Remember
Because I Remember © Surazeus 2022 12 14 Because I wear red dress of trembling leaves I draw figures of spirits in the sky which see me as the sign of who I am as if I taste sweet tears of the sad moon each time I split into a different self who walks down the road of another life. Because I hold persimmon in my hand clouds understand that I just might exist except my name floats away when I die becoming the butterfly of new hope reluctant to dream of electric sheep who graze in the abandoned church of lies. Because I cough blood on the laughing grass hills tell me I should know how to survive the corporate scheme of the abusive saint who wonders why rocks refuse to obey though we share our feelings in the mute rain by dislearning language our mother taught. Because I remember hour of my birth borders of nations trap us in our clans though we decide to purchase miracles eager to change my personality so everyone thinks I am someone else when I step through the locked theater door. Because I marvel at the tidiness of corpses lining train stations at dawn after flood waters cleanse the corrupt towns I crawl along the highway of dead trees to stare in cracked mirror of everywhere by threading my heart with roots of god brains. Because I cross the river of still change photos depicting souls who never lived erupt in flames of accidental faith preserved in Vatican archives as jokes which ruin the future of fossil souls who watch the eclipse of fake promises. Because I am too lazy to transcend walls of paradise that imprison me I choose to outlast all immortal gods encased in idols with ten thousand eyes by planting apple trees in parking lots where the god no one can see waits for me. Because I make new mask from the dead snake grass explains the real meaning of true love when needles weave our hearts in tangled mess of false memories we refuse to accept so I walk away from Heaven to find whatever treasure blossoms from my mind.
Tuesday, December 13, 2022
Serpent Eyes Of Melusine
Serpent Eyes Of Melusine © Surazeus 2022 12 13 I feel intense passion of these strange times from eight billion people living on Earth who define their unique spirits with names revealed by prophecy of the Star Wraith who appears before us on glowing screen with blazing serpent eyes of Melusine. Each human being alive on spinning globe expresses secret passion of their hearts they measure through code of the astrolabe concealed by metaphors in news reports composed by angel of the mind machine with timeless serpent eyes of Melusine. Under sly guidance of Tiresias where girls become boys and boys become girls we join party of Apollonius to choose our true love with hand-crafted laurels so we rise baptized from the Sea of Green with sexy serpent eyes of Melusine. Though grand illusion of the nation-state transforms into the communal mind tribe we participate in the sacred rite when Hermes and Aphrodite make love to generate new body from soul gene with mortal serpent eyes of Melusine. Incarnate in virtual world of my brain, all my ancestors, both male and female, combine to animate me as their clone, so I compose special play for my role that plots my journey through the holocene with curious serpent eyes of Melusine. Born from ecosystem of Mother Earth, we humans evolve ape to wingless angel by spreading from one ziggurat hearth to colonize the desert and the jungle because we always vote for our May Queen with fertile serpent eyes of Melusine. We gather in hall of the tribal feast to hear our Muse sing about the great Hero who becomes god when he reins inner beast to transcend with love all heart-breaking sorrow then writes moral laws to manage routine with loyal serpent eyes of Melusine. We redesign state of America so every living soul shares equal rights ruled well by loving heart of Onatah as we explore our world in cars and boats since Ezekiel invents the time machine with dreaming serpent eyes of Melusine.
Visit Tomb Of Rome
Visit Tomb Of Rome © Surazeus 2022 12 13 If I could ever visit tomb of Rome I would search skull-paved Capitoline Hill to find the lost Temple of Jupiter where I once transcribed the Saturnine verse of epic poems that Muses sang on stage about the man of wiles and man of rage. In flowing waters of the Tiber stream I would swim with Venus in morning light then lounge on grassy bank of Tiber Island where birds and snakes play in its apple groves to feast on ripe fruit blooming from the Earth while she explains the secret of rebirth. In cave of dreams where Sibylla once sang, that forms foundation of the Vatican, I would chant ancient spells of riddle verse to prophesy the rise and fall of kings who wear the jeweled triple crown of Christ in concert with the laughing poltergeist. In crowded forum of philosophers I would discuss true nature of all things composed of atoms swerving in the void which congregate in strange material forms from linguistic Ideas our brains design which I teach to boys on the Palatine. In lush fruit gardens of sprawling estates I would saunter with wolf boys in moonlight and chase cute dryads into laurel trees who throw wreaths to the boys they want to marry but all I find now are cars on paved roads that rumble with the psychic songs of toads. Across blue fields of frosty hyacinths I would tread the golden stars of weird fate to stand by bubbling fountain of Juturna and strum melodious lyre of Mercury while singing sweet satires of Juvenal, then join wild naiads in the waterfall. On field of Mars where boys learn martial arts I would fire bow of Sagittarius, then march through wild forests of Germany where I reign as Belenus in stone fort, guarding Belestis, sweet goddess of light, who teaches me mind technique of dream flight. Though Rome of my memories is long gone, vanished in the mist of three thousand years, I feel its sacred landscape in my heart still glowing with light of eternity so I return to lush hills in my dreams to make love with Silvia by moonlit streams.
Born In Generation Why
Born In Generation Why © Surazeus 2022 12 13 About the tree that wants to eat the house I consult the tongueless psychiatrist who stands in middle of the busy road and points to the ever-flashing red light that resembles the smiling dragon eye since I was born in generation why. The imitation persona I am which glares from Book of Faces on the web lives somewhere in Heaven of cyberspace while I shuffle about my cozy home and wonder if trees want to eat my soul since I was born in generation why. Standing on the Arizona highway, I give my drivers license to the cop who explains he is writing down my name in case he finds my dead body somewhere so I thank him for his honest concern since I was born in generation why. I wade in streets flooded with ocean waves in Miami Beach after pouring rain and hold my guitar high over my head while people go about their daily tasks slaving for the food-production machine since I was born in generation why. I climb the silent rocky mountain trail across the bridge from Boulder, Colorado to find the ancient Book of Secret Dreams I hid from the Christian evangelists, then eat mushrooms and dance in starlit woods since I was born in generation why. Through maze of Kansas City in sunlight I stroll to large library on the hill to write computer code on glowing screen composed with fractured lines of cosmic verse in arcane riddles no one understands since I was born in generation why. No matter where I am in this vast world I am always just where I want to be because I always choose where I go next while searching for the Holy Grail of Truth that gleams in eyes of the woman I love since I was born in generation why. Because I worship the Many-Faced God who wears the mask of every living soul I feel alive inside cells of my brain all my ancestors who design my mind awake in memory of our spinning Earth since I was born in generation why.
Monday, December 12, 2022
Disappear In New Books
Disappear In New Books © Surazeus 2022 12 12 Alone in library of singing books, I wait for the person I love the most to find their way to haven of my heart so we can share the stories of our lives with giggling whispers in soft candlelight, then kiss with love till stars fall from the sky. Safe in warm haven of consensual love that bonds our bodies with our private rite, we design the simple plan of our lives, yet unaware that fortune mocks our faith, for we feel timeless light of ancient stars glow strong with courageous strength of our youth. We stay together on the road of life by holding hands as we explore the woods and calling to each other when we part so we can find our lover in the dark, then snuggle as we share sweet food we find from rich bounty of the indifferent Earth. Knowing our time on spinning Earth is short, we generate children from our compassion and teach them mysteries of our universe so they continue on after we die, but till then we sit on the river shore and sing till we disappear in new books.
Guard Of Goddess Liberty
Guard Of Goddess Liberty © Surazeus 2022 12 12 The sea-lark twitters on the heap of stones where dawn-yellow waves ripple over bones to wake my aching heart from reverie searching for her face in faint memory because she is worth far more than my love yet I keep Earth to regain wealth above. Sprawled on my belly in the blazing heat, while ocean waves try to tickle my feet, I contemplate how I evolve from slime as wingless angel of the never time, yet face of Miranda enchants my soul so I center her love as my new goal. Elusive sunbeams snagged on spider webs reveal my wounded heart as the tide ebbs just as I realize that the words I speak create romantic happiness I seek, so I call to Miranda by pear tree that only her love can set my soul free. Caressing my cheek with her gentle hand, since Tree of Life secures me with love band, Miranda tries to teach me how to sing, and deep in my heart I feel angel wing empower my fragile body with Star Force so I follow Dream River to its source. Miranda molds my body from wet clay with healing fingers that define the way my spirit flows through vessels of my mind to nourish body my mother designed so I break free from tree trunk of desire to express my love by strumming bone lyre. While standing on mountain top of far sight I study beauty of things in sunlight, amazed at complex structures forms attain when atoms spiral joy from splash of rain, and then I see this strange world was not made by hand of God because all life will fade. With breath of passion flowing from my heart I expand beyond boundaries of the chart to break free from the Caliban I was through epiphany of the Primal Cause, then grow into the Jesus I would be to reign as Guard of Goddess Liberty. Our deathless mother in the primal sea designs our brain and eyes we use to see by weaving chemicals in gene segments from molecules of hydrothermal vents so we incarnate in children we dream as we journey along the sparkling stream.
Routines Of Their Lives
Routines Of Their Lives © Surazeus 2022 12 12 Though Icarus climbs to the mountain top to ask Tiresias the meaning of life he finds the ruined Temple of Apollo where Sibylla lounges on tattered couch, watching television in cave of dreams while eating pizza with Grendel and Thor. Regarding wingless angel with contempt, Sibylla asks if he brought weed or beer, but he lingers by the empty bookshelf where skulls of Hamlet and Orpheus grin for she sold all their prophecies as songs that play as pop hits on the radio. Explaining he is son of Jupiter, and thus older brother of Lucifer, Icarus comments Mars is on the way to arrest them for possession of drugs, so Grendel and Thor escape out the back while Sibylla runs to the kitchen and cries. Sitting together at the wobbly table, Icarus and Sibylla drink tea while she explains how she fell in despair when her best friend Aphrodite got sick and died from covid over Christmas break, so he holds her in his arms as she sighs. Passing Moses carving laws on stone tablets by eerie gold light of the burning bush, Icarus and Sibylla leave the temple and walk the signless road of nevermore across the waste land of desolate hope to find the Holy Grail of Baphomet. Arriving at the pearly gates of Heaven, Icarus and Sibylla purchase tickets but find themselves in Wonderland instead, amusement park owned the gold King Midas, so they ride roller coasters and carousels, then kiss as they boat through tunnel of love. Kneeling on dark shore of the River Styx, Sibylla clutches the handful of dust, and turns back to explain to Icarus how they wandered the maze for twenty years, but finds the wingless angel of her heart hanging crucified on a telephone pole. Releasing him from bonds of social rules, Sibylla makes sweet love with Icarus like Francesca with Paolo in Inferno, then draws water from Well of Melusine to cook oatmeal and eggs at Hearth of Eve where Tiresias smokes and reads morning news. Lounging at home on left bank of the Seine, Icarus writes folk songs with his guitar and Sibylla paints Surrealist art, while Tiresias programs the computer with artificial intelligence code to generate songs and paintings from memes. After Sibylla gives birth to twin boys, whom Icarus names Hamlet and Orpheus, they move to a small town in southern Georgia where he works for the county government maintaining maps of properties for taxes while she works at the mall clothing boutique. When Tiresias campaigns for President to rule over United States of Earth, Icarus works as campaign manager and Sibylla writes speeches he delivers, but as he shakes hands on Atlanta streets Midas assassinates him with his gun. Climbing holy mountain of Avalon, Icarus and Sibylla visit tomb where Tiresias transforms into the snake, so they sit under the tree of Irminsul and drink wine in remembrance of his name, then return home to routines of their lives.
Poetry Types
Poetry Types: Lyric: One person expressing their thoughts about events in their own life. This is how I feel about what happened to me. Dramatic: Two or more persons expressing their thoughts as they interact. This is how I feel about what you did to me and this is what I am going to do. Narrative: One person telling a story that happens to other persons. This is what these people in this place did and how they feel about what happened to them and what they did in response.
Sunday, December 11, 2022
When My Mind Blossoms
When My Mind Blossoms © Surazeus 2022 12 11 When awe of vision explodes in my brain I float in memories of my entire life that swirl around me in waves of delight at pleasure of passion I am alive to savor beauty of this pulsing world that vibrates when my mind blossoms with songs. Since more than forty thousand human beings alive today across this fertile land share genes with me from our common ancestors, our brains are tuned to the same frequency so we perceive state of our complex world with the same ideal framework of truth. I feel their minds vibrate across the ether as weaving waves of psychic energy that bind our bodies in matrix of souls so we feel each other across the web which pulses with hidden passions of hope that we generate life before we die. Now that world wide web of the internet binds our separate brains in the supersoul we can see faces of our relatives with clarity of familiar instincts reflecting souls of ancestors we share whose memories motivate our way of life. I want to meet my living relatives in lush meadow around Irminsul tree where our ancestors gathered every year to join festival of our common clans recorded by archetypes in my brain that preserve holiday feelings of joy. Centuries ago we would gather to feast around sacred tree of our family clans then listen as our tribal fairy queen stands before the tree, face lit by the moon, and sings of our first ancestor Helius who built home for his bride under this tree. The first ancestor of humanity, who engendered every human alive, glows subconsciously in eight billion brains as basic program that codes how we view ourselves in context of this blooming world so we become one universal mind. Yet now alone in office of my home before bright glow of my computer screen I construct puzzle of world history on time-animated globe of the Earth to map progress of my quest for the truth composed through epic of humanity.
Incarnation Of Phoebus
Incarnation Of Phoebus © Surazeus 2022 12 11 The negative space in the hollow pot contains whole sorrow of my pulsing brain encased by precious illusions of hope, so I define this self I want to play as noble Phoebus of the drama stage who proclaims truth when my character dies. Whether in crowded cafes of Paris where poets and journalists define fate, or in bleak wilderness of Idaho where farmers till the soil with bleeding hands, I wear the mask of Phoebus all my life through resurrection of messiah sleuth. The dead horse rotting in the roadside ditch reveals the beautiful horror of life, so I run laughing in meadow of skulls where great kings fought for power of the crown countless years before my body was born as stereotype of Phoebus driven mad. I hitchhike across the town-cluttered land to find the beautiful Muse of my heart, but stand alone on street corners and sing riddles that prophesy her coming reign till I fall asleep by her apple cart, and wake up at dawn as Phoebus instead. When I decide to run for president because I descend from the long-dead king who conquered the world with hammer of truth I shall stand before people of the land and preach about family values of faith as incarnation of Phoebus on Earth. Though Phorbas tries to retake the White House in violent coup against Queen Liberty I rally angels of America to invade his golf course in Florida and free our great land from his tyranny so he curses Phoebus for his defeat. The negative space in the spinning Earth turbinates bright with energy of faith as psychic seed that molds material forms so our spirits blossom from chemicals through invisible wings of Icarus who calls me Phoebus as he falls to death. Waiting at the red light for time to flow, I gaze at homes on hills in drifting fog that sparkle with Christmas lights before dawn, awake with conscious awareness of self since spirit of Phoebus glows in my heart, so I stand on my car and sing of love.
Maple Tree Nymph
Maple Tree Nymph © Surazeus 2022 12 11 Red flaming dress of the maple tree nymph rustles with delicate shyness of hope that true love will fertilize her weird mind with happy visions of humanity that show how we prosper with spin of time by sharing stories in grand feasting halls. Green superficial beauty of the mind explains how women of the country town speak secret language only they define to ensure production of lonely souls who walk the unpatched road to everywhere while singing anthems of the fallen land. Old stories of the jester in the woods instill loyal love for the family in children searching for the laughing book to understand the properties of herbs which heal the broken hearts of somber fools who stare too long out windows at the sea. On shores of the Lake of the Restored Sword the youngest sister of seven boys cries for the handsome pilot of the fighter plane who crashed in the field of wheat at midnight then dances alone in fog of the dawn. Through rustling reeds of marshes by the sea ghost of the fighter pilot walks alone with eyes full of bees that sing to the moon before the faceless owl with glowing eyes sees ancient power swirling in his heart because he forgot his horse in the hills. Groping through funhouse mirror maze of dreams, the maple tree nymph with seventeen eyes attempts to organize financial data for corporations which control the world by assembling puzzle of modern myth through analysis of conceptual love. The nameless women of Avalon greet pilgrims progressing home to Wonderland with flowers blooming in gardens of ghosts that veil the most beautiful soul on Earth with timeless wisdom of the radio hymn we sing as we march into gates of Hell. Though she lies alone in house by the sea the maple tree nymph with long tangled hair reaches out to hold my hand in the dark which connects our hearts with rhythm of waves that flow as sparkles in tune with the moon because it might crash into Earth one day.
Bleak Abyss Of Time
Bleak Abyss Of Time © Surazeus 2022 12 11 Red Zebra at the monastery gate explains calculus to the sneering monk who decides he cannot believe in fate after battleship of his wife was sunk by the grim jester in the business suit who weeps when Hayagriva plays the flute. Though Queen Maud wears her fluffy ermine cape to ride the frosty Christmas fields of fear the drunken tyrant king lets her escape with jeweled crown his mother once held dear so she can marry merry Robin Hood who rules the foggy groves of Weasel Wood. Still searching for seashells on sandy beach to understand the bleak abyss of time, blind son of the jester steals rotten peach from Aphrodite bathing in green slime while waiting in her cave ten thousand years for Taliesin to invent engine gears. Riding small two-wheeled cart pulled by white cats, Freya races along high mountain ridge to visit Shiva who trains acrobats dancing with despair on the Rainbow Bridge so we forget the reason why we die every time Icarus attempts to fly. While Shakuntala dreams about her groom who reigns on ziggurat of singing skulls Merlin asks she interpret code of doom so he appoints Mithra Master of Bulls who grills steaks at the college football game because Icarus cares nothing for fame. Red Zebra listens to twitter of birds to analyze health of our global state though Chief Seattle visits lonely Kurds who fight for independence from sad hate so Perseus orders pizza from Nepal, assigned to play soccer in Senegal. When Kali weeps at sad hoot of the owl that hides in belfry of the Shropshire church she programs computers for Robert Lowell who wanders vales of Gui Lin in vain search to find Excalibur in donut shop where Jesus stares surprised at his laptop. As Archangel Michael collects strange facts from various cultures all around the world Shatakshi writes political contracts so people of Earth elect cosmic herald to organize puzzle of global truth before eight coming of messiah sleuth.
Saturday, December 10, 2022
Profound Indifference
Profound Indifference © Surazeus 2022 12 10 Profound indifference of the moral law, devised by men to control other bodies, to ache of organic souls to survive programs fate-system of the social state that functions to manage how we behave in our global food-production machine. Minerva plucks apples from the old tree to fill nine baskets in the two-wheeled cart then hauls it along the narrow dirt road to the crowded market on the lake shore where women give her gold coins for her fruit, then she sleeps in her cart beside the church. Phoebus stumbles drunk to the fountain pool where he stares at his face in moonlit water and weeps with sorrow for death of his father then falls asleep beside the apple cart while watching stars swirl in argentine streaks that splash his face with teardrops of blind gods. When Minerva wakes in shimmer of dawn she finds Phoebus sprawled beside her cart with stiff hand clutching a small wooden horse, so she catches butterfly of his soul to mold him into lizard with crow wings who whistles while she walks back to her grove.
Friday, December 9, 2022
Civilization Built On Dirt
Civilization Built On Dirt © Surazeus 2022 12 09 We build our civilization on dirt by extracting food crops and minerals so we can nourish bodies of our souls then vote for who will manage our estate as archangel of world authority who runs global food-production machine. We work on farms to cultivate the soil producing crops that nourish us with food, and work in shops to mold material forms constructing machines that enable work, while mortal god with executive skills reigns over our state on the ziggurat. Immortal spirit of the manager, skilled in organizing the labor force, possesses body of each mortal man who plays divine God on the ziggurat till he grows old, so on the verge of death he must choose the successor to his power. While God sits on throne in the temple hall, high on the ziggurat of divine power, he must choose who is worthy to succeed role of God who will judge life or death, his own son, incarnation of his genes, or his minister who earned his high rank. When God chooses his son as the new king, the minister, who works hard all his life, leads angels loyal to his honest cause in rebellion against tyrant of greed, so the Son of God must fight to deserve right to rule over people of the world. In our civilization built on dirt we frame architecture to support power on which the mortal human who plays god can maintain control of fertile land to manage production and distribution of food and minerals we extract from death. The monarch reigns on one arch of state power till anarchists rebel against his law lead by archangel of justice and truth who crowns himself monarch of all the land for humans fight over who owns the land unless they trust one man to judge their rights. Kneeling in the backyard of my small home, somewhere on the global chessboard of Earth, I dig my fingers down into moist dirt and feel cool energy of vital source from which we extract wealth of life through work in our civilization built on dirt.
Archangel With Honest Heart
Archangel With Honest Heart
© Surazeus
2022 12 09
Gasping for breath at the obsequity
of Christians fawning at the wounded Christ,
Mike escapes prison of the Holy Church
and its atmosphere of mind-numbing faith,
then dances naked on shore of star lake,
no longer able to perform the fake.
When the hungry alligator of death
crawls quickly from vile swamp of despair
Mike photographs its fierce demonic form
instead of stabbing it with Lance of Lust,
then studies closely its daily routine
to understand spirit of Melusine.
When he sees Odin hanging in the tree,
one eye plucked out by the sharp raven beak,
Mike cuts him down and heals his bloody wounds,
then feeds him oatmeal with eggs and mushrooms
while he babbles about serpentine Runes
that flash in the Well of Ten Thousand Moons.
Traveling across the waste land of hope,
Mike and Odin follow the Scarlet Mare
till they find Blind Sibyl in the Glass Tower
who prophesies the global nuclear war
while she erases the scriptural words
that translate wisdom of the weeping birds.
Climbing ziggurat to Sousthenion
where golden statue of winged Zeus stands,
Mike stares astonished to see his own face
reflected by idol with flaming sword,
so he races back home to Washington
in vain hope to prevent Armageddon.
Stumbling up steps to the Capitol Dome,
Mike finds the warrior goddess Scythia
holding the Book and the Torch in her hands
so he kneels and pledges his loyalty,
gazing with respect in her star-black eyes
that shine with vision of Earth paradise.
Touching his head with her sanative hands,
Scythia commissions her loyal friend
to slay monstrous dragon of tyranny
threatening American democracy
so he accepts the flaming Sword of Truth
and dons black cape of the messiah sleuth.
Awake with holy mission of his fate,
Michael the Archangel with honest heart
leads Angels of America to war
to fight against the Dragon of Desire,
defending sacred land of Onatah
who rules over United States of Earth.
Saturday, September 3, 2022
Screaming Hills Of Nowhere
Screaming Hills Of Nowhere © Surazeus 2022 09 03 The children singing in the river stone contend with mortal stars that rend awry except when summer toots the lonely bone through secret laughter of the deathless I who wakes each new life in my tangled brain by dancing wildly in indifferent rain. The screaming hills of nowhere nurture souls who stare too unawake in swirling snow to know why oceans hide in famous roles as mothers teach us how the atoms flow though we can never split the universe with structured measure of the psychic force. The humming book on table of the truth reveals old riddles in roots of the tree that shades the girl with fruit in market booth who sells road maps to wild land of the free because the ocean girl in every home waits lonely for the fool who loves to roam. The children dreaming in the river stone dispel the moon-witch wind of everywhere with every story they share on the phone despite our hunger for the glorious pear which ravens bring to prophet by the lake to prove their noble savior is too fake. The angel blooming in the river mud tears fragile fabric of the matrix mind beyond the silent forever of blood related to strange puzzle of the blind with wandering knowledge of the always near consumed by theology of our here. The spinning globe in void of nothingness will measure timeless action of unnow with specters haunting land of happiness to base economy on the milk cow if true snowflakes consider my sad heart as I heap sorrow in the broken cart. The jumping ghost in hall of nameless masks decides to show our deathless mother why our shadows swell beyond code of time tasks we choose as process for weird life we fly since Deathless Mother of the swirling door translates the secret my to holy your. The raven watching humans fall in love defines how mimes still generate new life as monkeys eat the dragon in her cave who taught them language of the stellagraph so we must claim global citizenship before we set out on our family trip.
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