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.
Astarian Scriptures
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Thursday, October 17, 2024
Mountain Of The Lord
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.
Wednesday, October 16, 2024
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.
Tuesday, October 15, 2024
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.
Monday, October 14, 2024
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.
Sunday, October 13, 2024
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.
Saturday, October 12, 2024
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.
Friday, October 11, 2024
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.
Thursday, October 10, 2024
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.
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