Mountain Of The Lord

Mountain Of The Lord
© Surazeus
2024 10 17

The sudden roust of howling in the church 
leaves my stone brain suddenly in the lurch 
to tumble down from Mountain of the Lord 
and sprawl on rancid meadow of the sword 
more lonely than sad angel on the wall 
whose moan suggests I should answer the call. 

Disease lurks in dark waters of the fount 
too easy for me to record the count 
of sorrows strangers toss in well of tears 
from vain attempts to extricate their fears 
piercing their hearts as a rose-triggered thorn 
till demons wake at soul-blast of the horn. 

With superstitious urgency of faith, 
which radiates from god eyes of the star wraith, 
I scribble riddles blind angels dictate 
that should teach mankind how to navigate 
maze of myths were we wander lost in lies, 
never knowing who works for him as spies. 

As noble representative of truth, 
commissioned to play the messiah sleuth 
for world-wide audience of grim theists, 
I hammer Death with curse that God exists 
though no one haunts palaces of gold clouds 
except crucified clown wrapped in the shroud. 

Accoutered church constructed from god bones, 
where vampire priest preaches to faithful clones, 
echoes with soft voice of Leviathan 
who slithers in the ruined Parthenon 
where I recite with voice of Jupiters 
belligerent epic of philosophers. 

In sacred hall of faceless ghosts I sing 
about Icarus and his broken wing 
who flies to Heaven where Jesus resides 
in garden of fruit as Queen Mermaid hides 
till harpies gather in vast ring of stones 
to play haunting tunes on draconic bones. 

Before haloed face of our Fairy Queen 
I pledge true love to marry Melusine 
who casts runes from the well to prophesy 
hour I begin to reign as Adonai, 
so I send jetplanes to bomb paradise, 
then sell empty lots above market price. 

Calculating what each human is worth, 
I measure landscape of the spinning Earth 
to build world empire that negates all wars 
which allows everyone to operate stores 
selling art they create with magic words 
that replicate philosophy of birds. 

Born From Leviathan

Born From Leviathan
© Surazeus
2024 10 17

My mamma drives quick red Volkswagen bug 
through the streets of Fort Worth in sixty-nine 
to visit the city park by the river 
where hippies dance while Phoebus plays guitar, 
then I slide on cardboard down the steep hill 
to sit and stare under the raven tree. 

Alone I wander on low river shore 
to hear strange sadness of the water sing 
with words no huge dictionary records 
that glide and dart among the hair-long moss 
as silver fish with dark demonic eyes 
which teach me how to see ghosts of the light. 

My heart skips beat of curious concern 
when I see mangled body of an old man 
tangled in roots of the tall rowan tree, 
his long beard wavy in soft rippling flow, 
but when I lean close, shoes licked by the waves, 
the corpse becomes a burlap bag of weeds. 

Yet I see resurrection of the wizard, 
who rises dripping from the river gush 
with eyes more silver than the evening sky 
after storm clouds drench the world in new faith, 
as sudden vision flashing in the dusk, 
so I ask him to teach me to cast spells. 

Turning his dragon face to glare at me, 
the river wizard, born from Leviathan 
before the first tree ape began to sing, 
speaks to me with voice of deep ocean waves 
that sparks ancient memory from my brain 
how First Mother gave me apple of truth. 

Eating ripe apple from the Tree of Knowledge, 
I feel my heart swell huge as thunderclouds 
with secret knowledge of weird principles 
which program functions of organic souls 
to conjure consciousness from glowing brains 
so I feel as if I am God in flesh. 

Urged by soul-expanding epiphany, 
I breathe ethereal spirit of the river 
and sing wordless spell of the laughing tree 
encoded through School of Sincerity 
in obscure riddle of the clever jest 
that only flighty flower fairies hear. 

Riding in the quick red Volkswagen bug, 
which my mamma drives in streets of Fort Worth, 
I cherish wild ghost of the river wizard 
that now writhes captive in my beating heart 
so Leviathan spirit of the sea 
will animate my quest to find the truth. 

Call Me Endymion

Call Me Endymion
© Surazeus
2024 10 17

The thing of beauty eternally real 
projects aggressive joy of lonely hope 
at quiet breathing of the forest brake 
where I shelter under overturned boat 
from gloom shadows of unhealthy mists 
dispersed by light of the indifferent sun. 

Though loveliness of beauty inside things, 
my eyes perceive as shifting blurs of light, 
increases intense joy of breathless fear 
vast as the boundless sky I cannot touch, 
I shiver in stark dizziness of faith 
that Death will not notice me, and pass by. 

Trees sprouting shady boon over lush hills, 
that teem with spiders, mice, insects, and snakes, 
regard my fragile state of mind with grin 
of mocking honesty that pricks my heart 
with fierce determination to explore 
beyond blurred hedge of the rustling bush. 

Yet under cool soil where I press my hands 
deep thunderous heartbeat of the rolling world 
rumbles with monstrous voice of piercing light 
spoken slow by the faceless dead who haunt 
dreams of my memories with silent glow 
that flickers in my eyes from wings of crows. 

Emerging from shade of overturned boat, 
bare feet squishing in muck of wriggling worms, 
I step cautiously toward tangled grape vines 
where startled crows fly off with stolen fruit, 
then crouch with silent hope that I am safe, 
till I turn to see white face of the moon. 

Gazing entranced by beauty of her soul, 
I study motions of the shining moon 
each day and night above tree canopies, 
noting how she always rises from hills, 
travels across the sky of clouds or stars, 
then dips into deep gloom of the green sea. 

Floating in sweet dream of beautiful joy, 
I wake to find young woman with eyes gray 
as the new moon kissing me with delight, 
so we embrace and share pleasure of love 
to generate new life from timeless breath, 
then lounge with Selene in gold moonlight. 

Hearing my love call me Endymion, 
I wake each dawn in arms of my moon girl 
who laughs, and twirls so her long shining hair 
swirls in undulating waves of holy breath, 
then we gather berries from dew-wet fields, 
for she is beauty of the moon made real. 

Crippled By Bombs

Crippled By Bombs
© Surazeus
2024 10 16

Starting with the stop sign on the bare plain, 
I will name airplanes after lonely gods 
who ask blind toads if they want to play chess 
as children are maimed and crippled by bombs 
that turn into butterflies when they splash 
in pools of tears where lions crouch to drink. 

Restless for adventure in the strange land, 
words in pickle jars reflect my new face 
melting from my idol in church of lies 
as children are maimed and crippled by bombs 
that turn into salmon leaping up falls 
in bid to win at the Olympic Games. 

Wistful wishes of wonderment for snow 
smash televisions into comic shows 
that endlessly replay on cement walls 
as children are maimed and crippled by bombs 
that turn into turtles on the sea strand 
crawling back home to Scarborough Fair. 

Startled by sudden smack of falling books, 
libraries scream in silence of dust motes 
floating in breeze of electric contempt 
as children are maimed and crippled by bombs 
that turn into sparrows in rowan trees 
mocking the clown who thinks he is our king. 

Revered for accurate analysis 
regarding when starships visit the Earth, 
Lucifer starts new television show 
as children are maimed and crippled by bombs 
that turn into bees lost in corridors 
leading to the garden where Rapunzel sighs. 

Rocked by revolution for liberty, 
horses gallop slow on highway of glass 
to manage the national bank of fate 
as children are maimed and crippled by bombs 
that turn into frogs of identity 
in hope that soul salvation will be free. 

Rancid scrolls depicting anatomy 
contemplate confusing thoughts about love 
based on formulas angels must invent 
as children are maimed and crippled by bombs 
that turn into serpents with gentle smiles 
hiding in trees of arrogant respect. 

Finished with illusions of global peace, 
ghosts of our ancestors eat apple pie 
without embodiment of concepts sold 
as children are maimed and crippled by bombs 
that turn into beetles on river stones 
rolling over lost grave of Sisyphus. 

Vulgar Bliss Of Passion

Vulgar Bliss Of Passion
© Surazeus
2024 10 16

To stray in climes where beauty matches fear 
I vainly seek to catch quick beams of light 
that flash from words sad people dare to speak 
more fair in form than sorrows reimbursed 
with image love projects on fractured skies 
too soon for wisdom ripened on dead trees. 

My quick-gazelle eyes see through masks of hate 
entwined with wordless thoughts blind children sell 
for faith forgotten on cold wave-thrashed rocks 
deemed born from egg that Heaven would reject 
to lie numb-souled in long-deserted shrine 
where lonely lyre rings soft with bitter winds. 

Toward sacred hill where lovely fairies dance 
with hungry energy of frantic youth 
I search through shameless night of fluttered wings 
for feeble fountain hidden by grim trees 
where beggars rake from coffined clay fake books 
to prove their Crow God wields gem of true faith. 

If I could bask me in sweet noontide sun 
with joyful play my angel wings afford 
I might resist fierce blast of misery 
that crushes me down flat on pungent Earth 
not strong enough to scope chaste sky of hope 
simple more than land we loathe to leave. 

With dauntless hope to gain eternal life 
I race long labyrinth winding in your minds 
with vulgar bliss of passion I must steal 
to seek ghosts of dead fathers in cool shade 
from maddest mirthful mood composed of keys 
that unlock artless caves of thought control. 

Dear Seraphs gowned in writhing flames of light 
bid I return from underworld of dreams 
to step through mirror portal redesigned 
with costly truth from luxury repaired 
as I traverse your unclaimed wilderness 
through circumambient rhythm reconciled. 

No light winds blow my boat across wild seas 
yet I ride reckless gales of honest pride 
swift past deep sun-grave swirl of angry waves 
toward fleeting shores that evermore recede 
with fervent prayers for absent love contrived 
still falling from glow cloud of faceless gods. 

New shores descried through mist of helpless hope 
invite my journey to their rustic fields 
where flock of ravens flutter deathless wings 
to show my eyes where you wait for my love 
with fragrant blush of pious nonchalance 
because we consummate our soul rebirth. 

Demoneirum Of Ghosts

Demoneirum Of Ghosts
© Surazeus
2024 10 15

With Wand of Wisdom in my steady hand 
I walk the signless Road of Evermore 
on righteous path of compassion and love, 
lit by star-bright eyes of Grandmother Moon 
who guides us to Demoneirum of faith 
to store our memories in Temple of Dreams. 

Sweet smell of thunder, just before the rain 
carves stories of our loss on mountain slopes, 
inspires my heart to call your secret name 
so we assemble in tall ring of stones 
to feast in Demoneirum of friendship 
and sing together in Temple of Dreams. 

With stately grace of solemn gratitude 
we glide together in communal dance, 
breasts humming with one social melody 
that vibrates all our souls in harmony 
awake in Demoneirum of insight 
that lights our spirits in Temple of Dreams. 

Sour scent of flowers blossoming in fields 
conspires to energize my hungry soul 
so I turn and face monster of my heart 
and breathe to exercise bold self-control 
with courage in Demoneirum of trust 
as my thoughts construct grand Temple of Dreams. 

With courage honed by suffering in despair 
I descend mountain cave to ocean wave 
so I can hear ancient song of the deep 
which programs heartbeat of my rooted genes 
born from Demoneirum of timeless love, 
embodied by fate in Temple of Dreams. 

Pungent river-valley soil emanates 
ghosts of my ancestors in twilight breeze 
when I bury their spirits in my breast 
where their desire to taste pleasures of life 
animates Demoneirum of my brain 
which formulates wealth in Temple of Dreams. 

With God-Eye Diamond flashing in my brain 
I borrow wings of Icarus to fly 
high enough to map world maze of myths 
so I can name every god of our hearts 
who dwell in Demoneirum of our church 
as angels singing in Temple of Dreams. 

Stark glare of god eyes in smooth ocean waves 
illuminates dark weirdness of my heart 
when I envision how my fathers fought 
with zealous love against monsters of hate, 
armed with code from Demoneirum of ghosts 
to protect families in Temple of Dreams. 

Orpheus Saves Ophelia

Orpheus Saves Ophelia
© Surazeus
2024 10 15

Flapping frail wings in early morning glow, 
the white crane lands on oak tree in the stream 
where the violin and the long-haired girl, 
still wearing long black dress, float in green waves, 
in peaceful solitude as sudden breeze 
ripples water that kisses her pale cheeks. 

After failing to bring Eurydice 
back alive from the lightless underworld, 
Orpheus wanders weeping on the shore, 
hair swirling in the breeze that ripples waves 
across green sorrow of the River Styx 
where floating girl holds her red violin. 

Gasping at sight of young girl in long dress 
floating in river of angelic tears, 
Orpheus wades in muddy flow of fear, 
then lifts her in his arms with gentle grace 
to bear her dripping among river reeds, 
then breathes air of life to revive her soul. 

Breathing deep desperate desire for love 
that swirls in beams of light from timeless stars, 
Orpheus fills Ophelia with his faith 
till she expels water of bitter tears, 
and opens eyes blue as the storm-calm sea 
that gaze surprised at his sun-haloed face. 

Bearing her to his safe round tholos fane, 
Orpheus sparks bright fire of crackling flames 
to warm cold body of the shivering girl, 
who smiles shyly when he offers brass cup 
of juice that fills her heart with gratitude, 
while he carefully cleans her violin. 

As cool wind swishes hair around her face, 
Ophelia stands inside the pillared fane 
and plays heart-aching melodies of hope 
on star-vibrant strings of the violin 
that swirls ecstatic waves of rainbow tones 
in graceful spirals of enchanting love. 

Strumming gold strings on lyre of Mercury, 
Orpheus sings in potent harmony 
with fervent passion of zealous intent 
sad tale of the lonely heart-broken boy 
who saves the drowning girl from bleak despair, 
two lost lovers who find new love to share. 

Long after Orpheus and Ophelia 
raise three clever children, grow old, and die, 
their grandson Galaton paints on fane walls 
scenes depicting progress of their romance 
when the Singer lifts up the Violinist 
and carries her safely to garden grove. 

Hands Of My Heart

Hands Of My Heart
© Surazeus
2024 10 14

With countless hands of my heart I reach out 
to touch essence of all things that exist 
so I can feel vibration of their souls 
ring bright with cosmic music of the spheres 
till my heart comprehends their secret names 
given them by song of the ocean waves. 

With curious hands of my heart I explore 
infinite landscape of our spinning globe 
that spiral in eyes of people I meet 
walking somewhere else on the nameless road 
that always leads me to the eyeless lake 
where laughing children give each other names. 

With naked hands of my heart I embrace 
shadow-lover living inside the tree 
who calls my name with voice of silver light 
that transforms into birds with eager wings 
who try to teach me how to fly with breath, 
yet all I can do is name what I see. 

With broken hands of my heart I construct 
enormous palace of false memory 
where I can hide in doorless maze of myths 
to play life of each god who ever lives 
because ticking clocks animate my brain 
to invent language woven with our names. 

With fertile hands of my heart I conceive 
light that streams through statue of my soul 
to generate new bodies for my genes 
as we evolve from fish to faceless god 
who longs to travel outward to the stars 
that blink with indifference that I exist. 

With divine hands of my heart I express 
material substance of my mortal flesh 
that blossoms from youth and decays to age 
based on hypnotic chanting of the tree 
that drops ripe fruit into our open hands 
as Earth recycles atoms through our brains. 

With subtle hands of my heart I unwind 
wall tapestry that illustrates my life 
as cosmic herald crowned to save the world 
by guarding garden of the singing tree 
where deathless mother invents ways to talk 
about the strange world of forms our eyes dream. 

With stubborn hands of my heart I unfold 
wings of morning light to bless the world 
with self-indulgent joy that I exist 
though flame of life that glows in me is brief 
when I gaze high at rustling leaves of trees 
that whisper my name as I disappear. 

Nowhere Of Paradise

Nowhere Of Paradise
© Surazeus
2024 10 14

When I stroll down the driveway of my home 
to get the mail just after I eat lunch, 
soft glow of sunlight in wind-shifting trees 
wakes ancient memories nascent in my brain 
so I remember walking roadless plains 
one hundred thousand years of eager hope. 

Time seems to slow down as I venture forth 
from town where I have lived since time began 
to travel fifty miles each thousand years 
till I have journeyed halfway round the globe 
over mountains and seas to where I am 
now here in the nowhere of paradise. 

I travel forward toward the setting sun 
forever searching for the Promised Land 
that shines over dim horizon of hope 
while singing with the turning wheels of fate 
on which my wagon rolls to blaze new road 
where thousands follow me with desperate faith. 

On wings of imagination I fly 
back along old roads my ancestors mapped 
to find the lake where they first woke from dream 
and traveled forth to colonize the globe, 
sent forth by Ishtar on high pyramid 
to spawn curious children on river shores. 

Name of First Mother on shore of the lake, 
who taught us how to cook food over fires 
and how to sing clear visions of our minds, 
almost appears from misty depths of time 
when she smiles at me with star-beaming eyes 
and gives me fruit she snatched from Tree of Life. 

This timeless stretch of vivid memory, 
that spans more years than human history 
recorded by story-tellers in fanes, 
expands my sense of serious destiny 
so courage to fight for justice and truth 
inspires me with hope for democracy. 

From every group wise honest leaders rise 
to guide their people on the road of life, 
and those whose rule helps every person grow 
found prosperous states that thrive in happiness, 
but those whose rule exploits the common folk 
are killed in revolutions from despair. 

Collecting mail with secrets of success, 
delivered by angels with hidden wings, 
I stroll back in home my dreams have composed 
to sit before computer at work desk 
with timeless energy of human hope 
and help program the world computer brain. 

Face Between The Stars

Face Between The Stars
© Surazeus
2024 10 13

The face between the stars is my own face 
for I am soul of light in human form, 
just like every soul who has ever lived, 
so when I look at you I look at me, 
separate bodies from one immortal sea, 
but I can only guess your secret thoughts. 

Each year I leave the city where I work 
constructing houses for rich faceless gods, 
and spend vacation by the swirling sea 
to chat with Mother Mermaid about life, 
but every piece of advice she repeats 
is proverb written in the Ancient Book. 

I hear in voice of wind the secret song 
long hidden in heart of the lonely girl 
who smiles brightly as she teaches young kids 
how to calculate progress of their fate, 
while flag above her school waves in the wind 
to signal coming of the cosmic herald. 

Her father, who sold Bibles door to door, 
plays chess with other old men in the park, 
though rain storm sweeps away their strategies 
with umbrellas tumbling down the highway 
till hurricane, caused by the butterfly, 
dissipates to breeze that brushes her hair. 

She asks the man in the moon to retrieve 
painting of the white-eyed vireo she made 
to prove beyond any shadow of doubt 
that sunlight weaves out bodies from dream code, 
since humans can never fly to escape 
maze of myths that trap us in our beliefs. 

This house where I live with ghosts of my past 
is dream of the house where I was not born 
which always appears on side of the road 
no matter where I walk around the world, 
so I sit in bombed library to type 
complex riddles that prophesy the truth. 

Each skull I find in rubble of the war 
smiles up at me with charm of innocence, 
so I line them all on museum shelves 
beside skulls of Hamlet and Orpheus 
when Saturn, the old security guard, 
falls asleep watching movies on his phone. 

Awake as concept of the social game, 
I realize I am in love with the girl 
who lives on the other side of the world, 
but I cannot find store of Icarus 
to buy wings so I can fly to her home 
and give her sacred diamond of my heart. 

Harmony With The Wind

Harmony With The Wind
© Surazeus
2024 10 13

Each morning when the sun gleams through the trees 
sweet chirps of birds inspire my heart with hope 
that I will experience beauty of life 
while strolling along the lush river shore 
to gather treasures of bountiful Earth 
that gleam so mysteriously in my hands. 

Yet in my carefree journey through the world 
I stay alert to dangers lurking near 
in form of monsters or humans who dare 
attempt to control my soul for their gain 
with clever ploys urged by their selfish greed 
to acquire what their hands cannot create. 

Through woods once tangled with thick underbrush 
aggressive passion of my forward path 
has blazed clear trails of purposeful intent, 
expressing passion of my hungry heart 
in longing to walk by your side at last 
deep in this paradise our love has lost. 

Through exploration of my curious feet 
my heart has memorized shape of these hills 
till I comprehend songs of flowing streams 
for I am spirit of this timeless land 
awake in temporary soul I am 
when I sing in harmony with the wind. 

Though I find countless treasures of this world, 
delicious fruit that hang from shady trees, 
flighty birds that twitter enchanting songs, 
herds of horses that gallop with the wind, 
the most important treasure I desire 
is love you freely offer from your heart. 

Though I wake each dawn with visions of hope 
to perform graceful role of my weird fate, 
I find myself lost in vast maze of fear, 
entangled in plays other people write, 
till I have lost my true self in their mess, 
and I fall bruised to my knees in despair. 

Yet in the darkest hour of my despair, 
just as I fear I have forgotten you, 
bright light of your soul shines in lonely trees 
so I rise and follow moon of your heart 
that lights clear way I blazed with honest faith 
safe back to my secret home in the woods. 

While people with ambition fight for power 
to control narrative of what is true, 
I stay clear of their confusing contests, 
free to explore wild forests of this world, 
eating fruit that grow from generous trees 
as I sing in harmony with the wind. 

Tears Blocked By Grim Hope

Tears Blocked By Grim Hope
© Surazeus
2024 10 13

I gaze across mountains, rivers, and plains 
with longing to see your face in sunlight 
instead of your dim reflection on the moon, 
and though years pass with the falling of leaves 
sharp pain of your loss remains in my heart, 
yet tears blocked by grim hope will never flow. 

After I empty many pots of wine 
to ease ache of my heart for losing you, 
I wonder with sly laugh of bitter sorrow 
who will fill the pots with sweet wine again, 
for I will never cease thinking of you, 
but tears blocked by grim hope will never flow. 

The river flows cold in light of the moon 
while I drink to remember those who died 
in storm of war that swept across the land, 
so I count the sheep that graze in lush fields, 
and lights of fishing boats on the dark lake, 
since tears blocked by grim hope will never flow. 

The river shimmers cold in morning light 
and wind blows in trees on the mountain range, 
so we cheer the hero on his white horse 
who will never return to his safe home 
from fighting for peace against tyranny, 
as tears blocked by grim hope will never flow. 

Time passes with the bloom and fall of leaves 
when children eat apples on the lake shore, 
and memory of your face fades from my eyes, 
while even your name dissipates in wind, 
yet glow of your soul shimmers in the moon, 
so tears blocked by grim hope will never flow. 

Scenes of our life together in the past, 
replayed by ghosts on stage of our lost days, 
lie scattered on ceaseless river of time, 
mute whispers that echo in empty house 
where I grow old without you by my side, 
while tears blocked by grim hope will never flow. 

Our love swirls wild on agitated waves 
as time flushes all to the heartless sea, 
yet my love for you endures in my heart 
old as tall mountains shining in vast skies, 
so I stand in rain and call out your name, 
yet tears blocked by grim hope will never flow. 

Our love lasts forever despite cruel fate 
for though your body vanished from this world 
your spirit lives in children of our souls, 
for you gaze joyfully at me with love 
from cheerful beauty of their living eyes, 
so tears blocked by grim hope now ever flow. 

Principle Of Liberty

Principle Of Liberty
© Surazeus
2024 10 13

The ruling spirit of America 
on which progress of our republic stands 
is noble Principle of Liberty 
that every person living in this land 
has freedom to choose how they want to live, 
so we do as we will, if we harm none. 

On dark Friday the Thirteenth of October, 
one thousand, three hundred and seven years 
since Jesus founded the Christian Empire, 
both the King of France and the Pope of Rome 
conspired to destroy the Knights of the Temple 
to maintain their tyrannical control. 

Though Grand Master Jacobus Molensis 
was burned at the stake as a heretic, 
many quick Knights of the Temple escaped 
by boat across Mare Britannicus 
to stumble on the welcome shores of Scotland 
where Masons sheltered them safe in the Lodge. 

Reborn as Brother Masons in the Lodge, 
Knights of the Temple in Jerusalem 
established Principle of Liberty 
based on freedom of each person to choose 
how they worship the divine Soul of All 
and whom they choose to operate the State. 

Betrayed by the Pope in the Vatican, 
Free Masons founded Freedom of Religion 
through protest against abuse of the Church 
so every congregation in the land 
may study stories in Scripture to grow 
in their private quest for Truth of the Mind. 

Betrayed by the King in the Castle Court, 
Free Masons founded Freedom of the Vote 
which devised function of Democracy 
where the People chose who will lead the State 
as Republic formed for the Common Good 
that ensures justice and liberty for all. 

This sacred Idea of America, 
as Land of Liberty for every soul, 
based on the freedom to choose how we live 
through both religion and democracy, 
was born Friday the Thirteenth of October 
when tyrants tried to crush Spirit of Truth. 

We fight against monarchs and patriarchs 
who try to control our bodies and minds 
by exercising sacred right to vote 
with freedom to choose how we want to live, 
designing world view on verified truth, 
inspired by Spirit of America. 

World Empire Of Faith

World Empire Of Faith
© Surazeus
2024 10 12

The empire we live in will not soon fall, 
so I sit on back deck of my quaint home 
and play melancholy tunes on guitar 
to remember when I was young and poor 
and traveled east across this wooded land 
my ancestors traveled centuries ago. 

Leaving ancient kingdoms of tyranny, 
where thugs in castles, wearing jeweled crowns, 
pronounced themselves agents of the Sky God, 
my ancestors sailed across sea of storms 
on fragile boats of faith in liberty 
to live free in this fertile Promised Land. 

Always traveling west in the wilderness, 
they left behind crowded cities of banks 
to live beyond the grasping hand of greed, 
but every valley where they escaped to 
was annexed by the kingdom of the east 
till we now live in world empire of faith. 

Unknown augur in haven of my home, 
I study how birds fly across the sky 
where Icarus once soared from castle tower 
to live free beyond walls of paradise, 
then analyze state of democracy 
to prophesy in riddles no one reads. 

Since honest prophets always end up dead, 
killed by cruel tyrants grasping for control, 
I hide dire prophecies in clever code, 
wrapped in enigmas of humorous jokes 
that no one ever seems to understand, 
so I live unlaureled, safe in my home. 

Since Adam founded Kingdom of the Word, 
established by David with sword of faith, 
ensured by Jesus to grow in our hearts, 
and expanded wide by Meroveus 
for Constantine, Arthur, and Charlemagne, 
our world empire grows in America. 

Through sacred bloodline of the Holy Grail 
Jehovah builds his world empire of faith 
in sons of Jesus incarnate as kings 
who strive to conquer all nations of Earth 
under one invisible Lightning God 
who patrols the world in starship of peace. 

Though fractured in hundreds of warring states, 
United Nations of Earth will compose 
world empire of faith under global law 
based on justice and liberty for all, 
beautiful vision that will never be 
as I flow with the river to the sea. 

Her Struggle Against Fate

Her Struggle Against Fate
© Surazeus
2024 10 12

Young girl with long straight hair red as the rose 
kneels at stone cottage on the misty moor, 
and places small wood box by red oak door 
with turtle shell and feathers of three crows, 
then runs back to cave beneath jagged crag 
where she wraps warm in skin of the white stag. 

Sitting pert on wolf-skin fur on the stone 
where moonlight glitters in rain-splattered pool, 
young red-haired Aisling gazes in the jewel 
at vision she carves on the stag-leg bone 
with lightning-crooked letters of the Rune 
while humming eerie heart-enchanting tune. 

Tall blond-haired boy in white horse by the tree 
that drops orange leaves in flowing stream of time 
stares astonished at her beauty, sublime 
with graceful elegance since she lives free 
from duty that constrains his fierce intent 
to control wild passions of discontent. 

Six men surround young girl on misty hill, 
intending to abduct her for their Lord 
who reigns in stone castle with bloody sword, 
so she resists with courage of free will 
but they subdue her struggle against fate 
and force her to kneel before throne of hate. 

Young boy she rescued twenty years before 
from assassins his uncle sent to kill 
asks her to marry him while holding quill 
for her to sign contract of love to score 
secure position in his royal court, 
but she turns away with disdainful snort. 

With trembling voice light as the ocean wave 
she tells him she prefers the windy heath 
instead of wearing the gold bridal wreath, 
feeling safe in solitude of her cave 
where she brews juice in cauldron of her heart, 
then strides off with intention to depart. 

Holding her hands with gentle sigh of love, 
he confesses love he feels for her soul 
since hour she saved him, so he set as goal 
to crown her queen with grace of God above, 
but she laughs that no god dwells in the sky, 
then gasps at tear that wells from his blue eye. 

Realizing he cannot keep her prisoner, 
because love freely given is more real 
than love enforced that she will never feel, 
he burns contract drawn by the scrivener, 
then watches her walk road back to her cave 
where she translates song of the ocean wave. 

He Puffs Himself Up

He Puffs Himself Up
© Surazeus
2024 10 11

He guns loud engine of his giant truck 
to gamble with the Savior for good luck, 
but spins out on iced highway of despair 
which makes him transform into the brown bear 
who steals stale communion wafers of faith 
from the dumpster behind Church of the Wraith. 

He polishes gun of his bitter heart, 
after misreading the upside-down chart 
that maps every signless road Jesus paved, 
to kidnap the children Lucifer saved 
from religious fear of his doomsday cult 
without calculating the dire result. 

He preaches salvation on bright-lit stage 
to rile up the crowd with indignant rage 
for all those poor people and immigrants 
to blunt attention from his impotence, 
then sells them timeshares to the Afterlife 
with promise of reward from social strife. 

He signs expensive Bibles that he sells 
while boasting curses of cathedral bells 
when he attempts to steal the crown of thorns, 
then parades naked with the blowing horns, 
leading thieves to storm walls of Jericho 
as arrogant son of the virago. 

He stumbles lost in fun-house mirror maze, 
aggressively demanding in blind daze 
that all pledge loyalty to his mad reign 
while insecurity drives him insane, 
so we purge that devil from paradise 
to cleanse our nation of his septic vice. 

He shouts accusations with twisted lies 
that Jupiter Joe and his clever spies 
control the weather to hurl hurricanes 
that smash cities on conservative plains, 
declaring God anoints him King of Earth, 
yet disregards what loving hearts are worth. 

He promises to rule with iron fist 
as dictator who kills those who resist 
till we unite with Queen of Liberty 
to save our essential democracy 
so when he tries to suppress our free vote 
we exercise our sacred right to choose. 

He puffs himself up huge to appear strong, 
but he deflates at courage of our song 
for, though he seems to loom over our land, 
his fake bluster, as castle in the sand, 
will crumble so he fades from memory 
because we will survive his treachery. 

Lost In The Fun House

Lost In The Fun House
© Surazeus
2024 10 11

Lost in the fun house of national pride, 
size of my ego distorted by fame, 
I search for box Pandora used to hide 
demonic spirits of the empire game 
so I can trap them in their gilded cage 
when tyrants try to play god on the stage. 

I hide demonic spirit of desire 
for bold ambition to control the world 
through propaganda of the holy choir 
behind benign mask of the cosmic herald 
sent down to Earth by monarch of the sky 
who commissions me to play psychic spy. 

Distorting signal of accepted truth 
through global broadcast of arrogant faith, 
I track puzzling clues as messiah sleuth 
to reveal true nature of the star wraith 
who seeks to crown himself the global king 
through hypnotic power of the dream ring. 

Riding Bucephalus in global war 
to build world empire through holy crusade, 
I wield shining blade of Excalibur 
to trick the Devil with sly ambuscade, 
then place Crown of David on my own head 
while giving everyone fresh loaf of bread. 

Driven into bleak desert of the mind, 
I walk the waste land on the signless road 
forty days and nights till my heart is blind, 
so I meditate with the mushroom toad 
who reveals evolution of the soul 
from first flash that spirals from the White Whole. 

Resisting temptation of my own heart 
to crown myself Emperor of the Earth, 
I tame my devil wolf with mythic chart 
to build my bride safe haven with warm hearth 
where she teaches our children how to sing, 
then forge soul horcrux with the magic ring. 

Uniting nations of the Earth with love, 
I found Anglonesia with hand of law 
so all live equal under God above 
whose spirit animates Queen Onatah 
who provides food for everyone to eat 
while I preside in the Perilous Seat. 

As son of Galahad I wield the sword 
to maintain new world order with dream code 
which guides how I steward food as the Lord 
since I shift gears to drive in regal mode 
when I kill tyrants to bring the world peace 
before I die stealing the Golden Fleece. 

War Of Love Against Hate

War Of Love Against Hate
© Surazeus
2024 10 11

When snowflakes compose mirror of the mind 
I see the egotistical sublime 
reflect the soul of every genius seer 
who ever walks in sunlight of our world 
and sings new vision of the Self in spells 
that program how people perceive themselves. 

Armed with negative capability, 
scepter I forged from bright celestial light 
that fell as meteor from Realm of Ideas, 
I climb Stairway to Heaven with new wings 
I bought from Icarus at his toy craft shop 
to meet with Athena on Throne of Truth. 

Ascending Pyramid of the God-Eye, 
step by step to Church of the Cosmic Mind, 
I follow Torch of Freedom that shines bright 
in hand Goddess of Liberty holds high 
through swirling portals of the multiverse 
till I arrive in lush Elysium. 

While Saturnus lounges on the river shore, 
long beard weaving worlds in one galaxy, 
Athena sits in tholos temple hall 
where Mercurius strums tunes on golden lyre, 
and gestures I approach, so I bow curt, 
enraptured by divine glow of her eyes. 

Sweet voice of her electric energy 
inspires my mind with vision of her goal 
as World Goddess of Liberty explains 
how Devil Spirit of cruel tyranny 
has manifested once again on Earth 
in greedy man who would crown himself king. 

Handing me Sword of Justice, Durandal 
that Roland wielded to protect the realm, 
Athena commissions me to assist 
Minerva Goddess of Justice and Law 
to battle that devil in human form 
so she can save humanity with love. 

Descending stairway from the Parthenon, 
Temple of Liberty that lights the world, 
I join Minerva on her holy quest 
to drive tyrant Midas from the White House 
so she can enforce universal law 
with justice and liberty for all people. 

Though thousands of humans possessed by fear 
support Midas crowning himself king, 
millions of people who love Liberty 
wake bold angelic spirit of their hearts 
to fight for freedom through democracy 
in our global war of Love against Hate. 

Latest Epiphany Of Truth

Latest Epiphany Of Truth
© Surazeus
2024 10 11

While searching through the rubble of our dreams 
for the latest epiphany of truth 
that billions of brains now see all at once 
in vision flashing on hurricane clouds, 
I find the long-lost photograph of God 
with face of every soul who ever lives. 

While riding roller coaster of our dreams 
for the wildest epiphany of truth 
that zips around vast galaxy of worlds, 
I transcend anguish of this mortal life 
to fly high on imagination wings 
so I can map confusing maze of myths. 

While gazing still in mirror of our dreams 
for the myriad epiphany of truth 
which replicates material forms of being 
from concepts of their Platonic Ideas, 
I perceive immortal soul of my genes 
through which my ancestors evolve to me. 

While talking with nameless ghosts of our dreams 
for the secret epiphany of truth 
that frames puzzle of our cosmic world view, 
I design architectural ontology 
on which I build Temple of Memory 
where we eat apples by Fountain of Youth. 

While teaching workshop to compose our dreams 
for the sacred epiphany of truth 
which mathematicians and seers employ, 
I calculate with psychic formulas 
social progress for generating life 
in children who bury us under trees. 

While driving car on highway of our dreams 
for the tricky epiphany of truth 
embodied by bright Torch of Liberty 
that guides our lone way through darkness of faith, 
I forge Justice Sword from Infinity Stone 
to fight devils who haunt America. 

While gazing at flame in tear of our dreams 
for the subtle epiphany of truth 
which fuels each passionate beat of our hearts, 
I bring laughing skull of Hamlet from Hell 
so he can prophesy future events 
from his throne in Museum of the Mind. 

While strumming lyre to sing spells of our dreams 
for the cosmic epiphany of truth 
encoding tropes of personality cults 
we play in Theater of the Absurd, 
I play persona I design with words 
whose idol will remain after I die. 

Invent New Words For How

Invent New Words For How
© Surazeus
2024 10 10

When language flows in waterfall of words 
I wear face of the sun to hide the gloom 
that billows from deep fountain of my heart 
when I explain vast emptiness of truth 
as meaning that exists without the word 
since life occurs outside dream of my mind. 

While walking in the field of singing trees 
I close my eyes to see light of the world 
that glows from hills of animating wind 
so I feel aching body of my mind 
connect my soul to spinning of the globe 
which fills my heart with pulsing breath of hope. 

Instead of hiding in safe cave of ghosts 
when glowing Cloud God dumps rain on my head 
I turn my face up toward infinity 
to taste conceptual wisdom of the light 
that pierces my heart with sweet loneliness 
because I forget words to explain why. 

This globe that teems with conscious organisms 
continues spinning in the star-eyed void 
whether or not I am awake to feel 
tremor of land vibrating with my heart 
so I walk barefoot in cold ocean waves 
while I invent new words for how I feel. 

Just as I name bright spirit of my soul 
my body turns into the long-maned horse 
who gallops slow along the river shore 
to show me where the apples grow most ripe 
so I become another human soul 
who smiles at me in shadow of the grove. 

Though we speak words our mothers gave to us 
with kisses of compassion beyond death 
we understand the strange words we exchange 
as thoughts that glimmer in electric air 
so we embrace to share tunes of our hearts 
that pulse in rhythm with clean river waves. 

Seven thousand years after we first meet 
our memories wake in children of our genes 
who recognize each other in our eyes 
as offspring of One Mother who still sings 
weird melody the moon weaves in our hearts 
though we live now in distant roadless lands. 

I fly to opposite side of the world 
and find you walking in our field of flowers 
so we climb Temple of the Humming God 
and kiss with passion of the spinning Earth 
to generate new life before we die 
in children who place our skulls on the shelf.