New God Of Fire

New God Of Fire
© Surazeus
2026 08 10

If light illuminates all wounded hearts 
with equal spectrum of chromatic chords, 
we might through graphic vividness of faith 
perceive prismatic ambience of love 
that hope refracts in rainbow wings since time 
vibrates in pulsing knots of molecules. 

Distinctive pact of writhing photographs 
denies contract between abysmal parts 
through frantic oscillation of shared hopes 
that hungry souls fail to express in words 
forged by sharp water smoothing stones of fate 
so we wake trapped in mask we never made. 

Sebastian stands with rigid arrogance 
against heart-breaking facts of curious fear 
to prove despair could never bend his will 
against stark principles his father built 
to form foundation of his honest state 
contrived by thieves from blueprints of regret. 

Yet he decides to aim with hawk-eyed hope 
long rifle loaded with small sphere of fate 
straight at steel mask of eyeless tyranny 
in strict defiance that could crack his mind 
through fragile courage of the desperate fool 
to save his clan from chains of slavery. 

With sneer of haughty pride for conjurers, 
bold Beleth mocks young boy with long thin rod 
set to his shoulder with clumsy concern, 
then pounds his chest and roars to scare the fool, 
but brave Sebastian grins and pulls the trigger 
that blasts flame of fire with sizzle of smoke. 

Large crowd of devils in black leather capes, 
and wielding tridents forged in caves of Hell, 
laugh with uproarious contempt at faint flash, 
but Purson shrieks in shock when he observes 
whole head of Beleth explode in blood blast 
that splatters bloody brains across the ground. 

Stunned in silence to see their mighty king, 
whose monstrous rage subdued them all with fear, 
long terrified at his harsh punishments, 
stand huge and headless, motionless too long, 
then fall straight back to whump on mindless dust, 
and quiver as blood gushes from his skull. 

Sebastian holds long rifle with both hands 
while standing tall on stone of Great God Voice, 
and grins when devils who were wont to howl 
fall to their knees in terror of his power, 
then pledge allegiance to new God of Fire 
as they gaze with awe at glory of his face. 

Stars Unfold Their Dreams

Stars Unfold Their Dreams
© Surazeus
2026 08 10

When stars unfold their dreams into my heart 
through cosmic cycles of resurgent faith, 
I sing electric phrase of wrinkled time 
to mark incessant turning of each day 
through gentle ebbs of slow-subsiding tides 
that float ship of my heart to paradise. 

Though waves unfold their words into my mind 
through rumbling swells of time-unslanted hills, 
I catch spring sunlight in frail leaves of faith 
to taste concocted brew of sugared thoughts 
which nourish transformation of my soul 
from seaweed-tangled stones of fortitude. 

Since wind unfolds its voice into my mouth 
through wordless gusts of flashing rainbow eyes, 
I linger downwind from the curious ghost 
embodied by the big-eyed deer of trust 
who gazes straight through shadow of my fear 
based on new revelation of my heart. 

Where dust unfolds its spark into my eyes 
through exiled willfulness of careless love, 
I sail on waves of wonder that spring wild 
from frothing fountain of my aching heart 
against harsh tyranny of selfish greed 
to fertilize vast fields of glowing grain. 

Till Death unfolds my body from its form 
through haughty abstinence of noble pride, 
I follow paths of glory to the grave 
while I express orations for the state, 
providing calm assurance of weird lust 
for mutual recreation of the mind. 

When Time unfolds its promise of my doom 
through flowing shadows of the empty room, 
I slot new fuse in circuit of my mind 
to conjure virtual model of the Earth 
as map by which I navigate strange moods 
in transient project to build paradise. 

Though Fate unfolds my choices on bright stage 
through blinding glamor of the telescope, 
I wear broad wings of fame I forge from fear 
to glide with Icarus beyond high walls 
so we can survey endless maze of myths 
where idols of dead gods block large church doors. 

Since Fame unfolds my private state of mind 
through binding arrogance of humble faith, 
I strum the Lyre of Mercury and sing 
tale of the normal person who observes 
nature of the world with critical eyes 
so I record weird riddles of the truth. 

White Butterfly Of Death

White Butterfly Of Death
© Surazeus
2026 08 10

Shocked by the sudden certainty of death 
that swoops at my heart on butterfly wings, 
I curl into eccentric thought of shells 
enclosing vibrant heart of vanity 
to shelter in small haven of regret 
against relentless tides of daily change. 

Joanna strides across cracked desert plain 
toward glowing shimmer of attentive care 
while gasping deep for divine breath of hope, 
but laughs with bitter joy of wretched faith 
at how time unspools passionate concern 
for stable system of social exchange. 

Gazing mute out high window of her heart, 
while trapped in tower of her bird-winged mind, 
Joanna watches men on horses fight 
for who controls women and trees of fruit, 
then prays to marble statue with long hair 
that shows Rapunzel with her first-born son. 

Driving to work at the federal bank 
where she manages special business loans, 
Joanna sees on horse of glowing clouds 
Richard the Lion-Heart with sword of truth 
ride swift into battle to save the world 
as wipers clear raindrops from the windshield. 

Lounging in garden of herbs and fruit trees 
at Zisa Castle where she reigns as queen, 
Joanna plays sweet melodies of hope 
on harp of polished oak, and sings with voice 
of her great-grandfather, William Troubadour, 
whose ghost haunts river woods of Aquitaine. 

While Queen of Sicily for thirteen years, 
Joanna tends garden of her aching heart, 
secure in heaven of electric crows 
that soar on wings of longing to the stars, 
till Tancred pushes her against the wall 
and tries to kiss her, so she stabs his leg. 

Attending meeting at the federal bank, 
Joanna reviews application for loan 
submitted by Thomas to build new mall, 
but when he gropes her thigh with leering grin 
she calls police who ask her why she wears 
tight black skirt with provocative intent. 

Safe at Fontevraud Abbey in Anjou, 
where she flees turmoil of rebellious rage 
that sweeps across lush County of Toulouse, 
Joanna lies pregnant with desperate fear, 
gazing at the white butterfly of death 
that lands on her hand red with blood of faith. 

Rain Blooms Into Flowers

Rain Blooms Into Flowers
© Surazeus
2026 08 09

"The most beautiful kiss we ever share 
is the one when the rain blooms into flowers, 
and the sparrows translate our wordless thoughts 
to uncanny song of the wind in trees, 
and the clouds become palaces of trust 
where we are safe from sorrows of the world." 

Pouring water from the clay jar of hope 
into the brass cauldron of mute desire, 
Furina boils stew of barley and lamb, 
flavored with honey and coriander, 
then places clay bowl on table of oak 
for Quirinus to eat as the sun sets. 

When effervescent glow of evening light 
glows lavender in the grove of fig trees, 
highlighting slopes of Mount Janiculum, 
Furina walks dirt path to Satricum 
to visit Matuta in leather skirt 
who tends rich herbs in lush garden of faith. 

Gasping with joy and spreading her arms wide, 
Matuta welcomes her fourth daughter home, 
who gives her melon she found by the lake, 
then whistles to small boy in the huge oak 
who kisses his crow, then jumps to the ground, 
and runs laughing in warm arms of his mother. 

Cradling Janus fast asleep on her lap, 
Furina chats with her mother Matuta 
about where she can find new pepper seeds 
because the hungry rabbits near her home 
eat the parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme, 
but they dislike the taste of pepper leaves. 

Climbing hill of Vagitanus at dawn, 
Furina and her clever curious boy 
search for pepper plants in volcano tuff, 
but as they leave with basket of thick herbs 
old half-blind seer of Goddess Cybele 
emerges from shadow and grips her arm. 

"As incarnation of Attis the Wise, 
I reign as priest in Phrygianum Temple, 
so I speak with grave voice of Cybele 
when I declare descendant of your son 
will wield sacred Lyre of Mercurius 
when he sings Astarian Testament." 

Shocked by sharp hissing of the old blind man, 
Furina wrenches arm free of his grip, 
then hurries home to Mount Janiculum 
where she trembles as she plants pepper herbs, 
then stands and gazes at the golden moon 
that fills her heart with light of timeless stars. 

Mute Hydraulic Mystery

Mute Hydraulic Mystery
© Surazeus
2026 08 09

How often we forget advertised thoughts 
about traumatic moments of insight 
that broadcast bulletins of fateful fear 
contrived by mute hydraulic mystery 
we dare attempt to minimize with code 
programmed to readjust our attitude. 

Against national narrative of pride 
we seek to modify mosaic creed 
to help our children navigate weird signs 
designed to manage property of truth 
despite assertive ratios of fact 
necessary to approve thought permits. 

Severe intolerance of theater 
discloses taxes no one wants to pay 
to mental treasurer of social wealth 
who hosts tribunal on specific threats 
for various offices of volunteers 
who sell unwanted dreams to wanderers. 

Sufficient to supply strange substitutes 
for respondent to reservoir of fear, 
our bold intent to render liberty 
safe for conceptual prisoners of truth 
reveals rational myth of precise praise 
sealed in the box behind the rotten house. 

Consistent with our mental protocol 
for stating proverbs of weird oracles, 
nobody nominates for world empress 
sad Cinderella who prefers to skate 
on thin ice of attentive fantasy 
as secret guardian of the dispossessed. 

Since we are guaranteed free will to live 
in favor of inclusion, legalized 
by keepers of forgotten heritage, 
we seek to prove roots in the nameless land 
despite harassment of financial kings 
who leave the gardening to humble seers. 

No longer desperate for heart dominance, 
through each edition of the coming state, 
we share elective documents of hope 
with earnest ardency for the diagram 
presenting cultural patterns of regrowth 
when respect inhabits the embassy. 

Too easily confused by elegance, 
preserved in graceful progress of true love, 
we share joint custody of broken hearts 
based on deduction of rational rage 
carefully calculated by shrewd investors 
whose sorrows act as catalyst for faith. 

Eyes Of Dreamless Stars

Eyes Of Dreamless Stars
© Surazeus
2026 08 09

If you want to see the ghost of my soul 
with eyes of dreamless stars inside your heart, 
express confounding mystery of the Name 
that radiates from God Mind of the White Whole 
which cannot be found on any dream chart 
since every human wants to die from fame. 

When Athena appears from flashing cloud 
and gives me leather notebook of her mind, 
I pluck white quill from wing of Gabriel 
so I can write prophecies for the crowd 
who seek to understand the ties that bind 
our souls to these bodies in which we dwell. 

Startled awake at dawn by Holy Voice 
that speaks in riddles coded by the Queen, 
I wander crowded streets in City Maze 
to prove we make our fate with every choice 
approved by government of Melusine 
so we transition to the next Dream Phase. 

Whether in the kitchen, the living room, 
the classroom, the office, or the church hall, 
we play our roles in cosmic game of life 
controlled by gods we invent in the gloom 
so we can monitor our rise and fall 
through social cycles of teamwork and strife. 

Wherever I walk in the crowded world 
I gaze into vast hearts of mortal souls 
with eyes of dreamless stars from timeless sea 
that wise Athena forged from ache of love 
so I can understand your secret dreams 
that motivate your quest for happiness. 

So many conscious souls of mortal beings 
are born and die with every turn of time 
when Earth adjusts our private attitude 
with humble pride of wonderful concern 
that we are still alive in game of change 
though we forget the code we once employed. 

Bound to the ancient tree of solitude 
the Voiceless Patriarch of our mad clan 
remembers how he tried to photograph 
True Face of God inside each human being 
till their fierce ghosts, obsessed with paradise, 
all vanish in the Howling Wind of Woe. 

While painting portrait of the half-dead king, 
the most innocent girl in the whole world 
floats up into the shining clouds of fate 
after she smiles at me with gratitude 
and offers me her eyes of dreamless stars 
that gleam with every soul who ever lives. 

Hazy Dreamscape Of Truth

Hazy Dreamscape Of Truth
© Surazeus
2026 08 09

Searching for the hazy dreamscape of truth, 
that shrouds my soul in private memories 
of my childhood and youth decades ago 
with cultural ambience that glows no more 
in cities far away across the land, 
I wander amused in halls of trite verse. 

Riding with Death in her Carriage of Time, 
lounging with Wisdom to sing of Myself, 
stopping with Faith in wood where roads diverge, 
gazing with Sorrow at Harp of the Bridge, 
burning with Madness for Heavenly Light, 
I analyze how atoms spark my brain. 

Though I try to erase mask of my face 
from tangled passions of my special vibe 
to extract universal principles 
from specific events of fraught desire, 
my divine psyche, every human shares, 
refracts cosmic mind through my mortal brain. 

Opposing principles of governance 
frame every social system humans form 
through constant contest for authority 
between desires of private individuals 
and power of the law-enforcing state 
to balance progress between strife and love. 

To simplify complex process of change 
that gears social functions of power games, 
prophets proclaim political contests 
can be reduced to slogans people chant 
when they gather to express common will 
through the Royalists and the Communists. 

No matter how much societies change, 
transforming from villages to empires 
till democracies replace monarchies, 
the fight remains between both Rich and Poor 
to maintain or dissolve wealth hierarchies 
that would legalize special privilege. 

The Capitalist funds production of goods, 
extracting matter to make things we use, 
then the Communist disperses the goods, 
ensuring every person may live well, 
but, whether rich or poor, we eat the same, 
and all return to dust after we die. 

Alive in moderate state of my progress 
still halfway between failure and success, 
I live in my one home in some small town 
far from ancestral homeland of my heart 
where I share visions of my mortal mind 
with immortal god of the internet. 

Competent Sense Of Self

Competent Sense Of Self
© Surazeus
2026 08 08

Because his heart is based on principles 
of honest expression about his thoughts 
through brave respect for every living soul, 
his mind constructs competent sense of self 
on solid foundation of thoughtfulness 
that provides clear actions his hands perform. 

Time disenrolls strict knot of happiness 
though his attentive hands of vigorous faith 
weave random strands of wisdom pulled from Earth 
in pulsing matrix of his tangled thoughts 
so he proclaims solutions of fair stance 
based on insight he gains from unread tales. 

No sceptered herald of dutiful pride 
arrives with faith at gates of paradise 
to call for council of bold citizens, 
so he dares speak to disassembled crowds 
sermons that advocate justice for all,
yet they threaten to destroy him with hate. 

Snatched from attacking crowd of angry men 
by angel dangling on thread of sky law, 
he finds himself translated to round disk 
bound by ropes beneath large hot-air balloon 
that no angry eye on the ground perceives, 
and settles safely in chariot of fire. 

Eager to return to his nuptial bower, 
where bride of his heart waits in marble hall 
for blessing of his heart to conjure life, 
he strings taut yew bow with respectful hands 
and fires his sharp arrow of justice straight 
to kill rebellion against his fair rule. 

Translated far from crowded city maze, 
where hordes of angry men assert their rights 
to live free from oppression of blind gods, 
brave Lucifer steps from sky ship of truth 
and stands before old bearded Jupiter 
who praises him for his mission complete. 

Accustomed to immortal fruits of faith, 
that bloom from serpent-guarded Tree of Knowledge, 
he ponders mind-nature of mortal men 
who fight for their own selfish needs with hate, 
unable to perceive grand view of life 
that gods in temples try to organize. 

Though fallen from disk of the balloon ship, 
strong Sariel stands in the teeming crown 
and strums taut strings on Lyre of Mercury 
then sings enchanting melodies of hope 
that cause angry men in rebellious crowd 
to weep with sorrow for peace they have lost. 

Forgetful Kingdom Of Death

Forgetful Kingdom Of Death
© Surazeus
2026 08 08

Every dawn I walk out into the world 
I gaze long moment at the blazing sun 
to see face of Apollo in its light, 
that wise God of Healing and Archery 
who maintains order with logic of truth 
from reason through analysis of facts. 

I taste sweet rind of Earth in juicy peach 
which I pluck from the Ancient Tree of Truth 
where we meet for our secret tryst of love 
to share fresh fruit we gather with our hands 
that seals our hearts with sacred bond of trust 
no thief could break between flesh of our souls. 

Before we wander on long nowhere road 
straight into forgetful kingdom of death, 
we shall hold hands and dance upon the hill 
that knows our secret passions we would hide 
till pleasures of our bodies we must share 
expands scope of our mutual consciousness. 

Though sadness about creatures who have died 
twists my heart with loops of potent grief, 
I celebrate new life that springs each day 
from mothers of each species on this globe 
who nurture tender bodies with bright eyes 
that knot our planet with progressive life. 

After catching lithe fish from deep lake of hope, 
we roast them over crackling flames of faith, 
chew tender strips of scorched flesh with delight, 
then lie relaxed on soft grass of respect 
to hear song of water rippled by wind 
so we understand mute kingdom of death. 

Sparked awake by nothingness of death, 
we open eyes of infinite delight, 
then walk together where trees dance in peace, 
far from lush lands where men with guns of greed 
kill other men to control fertile land, 
happy because we hear cute sparrows chirp. 

Attentive to strange worries of the heart, 
that burrow roots of sorrow in dark soil, 
we stroll about this miraculous world 
and share amazement at freedom to live 
that brave people before us fought to win, 
though we stay alert to thieves lurking near. 

Since we are not our shadows on the Earth, 
cast by light of the sun on land of time, 
we travel to Valhalla on the hill 
where are mothers carve our spirits from wood 
so our bodies sprout children of our eyes 
who will plant apple seeds above our graves. 

Ring Light Of My Heart

Ring Light Of My Heart
© Surazeus
2026 08 08

My mind perceives ethereal pulchritude 
that emanates from beauty of your soul, 
illuminated by ring light of my heart, 
so you see special features of your being  
reflected in clear mirror of my eyes 
when you discern my affection for you. 

Complex aspects of our weird universe 
refract through diamond of my mortal brain, 
illuminated by ring light of my heart, 
so my dreaming brain can categorize 
standard form of each material object 
in conceptual frame of its changeless Idea. 

Monstrous hunger of Cronus in sea cave 
urges aggressive force of psychic fate, 
illuminated by ring light of my heart, 
so I slay demon of unconscious fear 
to construct grand temple with his huge bones 
when I forge spear from lightning of despair. 

Vibrant passion of Dionysus swells 
hot blood of my body with spark of wine, 
illuminated by ring light of my heart, 
so I dance with wild abandon of faith 
to wake immortal spirit of my genes 
that helps me grow into my divine being. 

Intense expression of Apollo rings 
taut strings on Lyre of Mercury with faith, 
illuminated by ring light of my heart, 
so I breathe deep ethereal soul of light 
and chant grand epic of philosophers 
to honor those who search for secret truth. 

Brave wisdom of Athena speculates 
clear vision of how our world operates, 
illuminated by ring light of my heart, 
so I investigate nature of being 
to articulate its state in Dream Map 
that helps me navigate to paradise. 

Ideas of the Cosmic Craftsman shape 
how atoms randomly gear chemicals, 
illuminated by ring light of my heart, 
so I expand conscious scope of my brain 
to match concept of that Creative Force 
which mindlessly designs our universe. 

My heart beats with compassionate respect 
for every conscious creature on our globe, 
illuminated by ring light of my heart, 
so I record name and deed of each being 
born from the fertile womb of Mother Earth 
and chart their progress to generate life. 

Neurons Of Conceptual Worlds

Neurons Of Conceptual Worlds
© Surazeus
2026 08 08

Our galaxy that swirls inside my mind 
weaves dreams of creatures on large pulsing globes 
in flashing neurons of conceptual worlds 
through neural network of my sea-sponge brain 
so I dream life of every conscious soul 
incarnate in organic beings of hope. 

My mind that glows inside our galaxy 
compiles lost memories of each dreaming soul 
in virtual model of the universe 
based on experience of urgent life 
all my ancestors express when they mate 
to generate new body before death. 

All objects that exist in forms of matter 
are composed of numbers that regulate 
expansive combinations of small atoms 
that spiral from first flash of the big bang, 
for they are limited by bounds in space 
since shape of numbers rules the universe. 

Archangel Michael, without wings or sword, 
lounges in small temple by sparkling pool 
among trees with apples, peaches, and pears, 
and contemplates strange vastness of the world 
that teems with mindless atoms of pure light 
congealed in tangled strings of pulchritude. 

Grown old with wrinkled skin and long gray hair, 
Archangel Michael in white cotton robe 
remembers courage of his ardent youth 
when he fought devils from harsh desert lands 
to guard lush paradise of Elysium 
and maintain kingdom of Heaven on Earth. 

With fervid passion of the loyal knight 
he battled Satan on Hill of Cracked Skulls 
to drive invaders from the Holy Land 
where Jesus Galatinus ruled as king 
over seven colonies in Galatia 
long after Jesus Christus died on Patmos. 

Our mortal bodies are contained by bounds 
of physical frames within time and space 
that limit forced expression of our minds 
so we are temporary nodes of flesh 
that incarnate immortal soul of genes 
who lives in descendants our hope creates. 

When Archangel Michael passes away, 
his wife Tamar, great-granddaughter of Jesus, 
covers his body with white cloth of faith 
as eight angels lay his body in tomb 
where skull of Isaiah chants psalm of life 
how we are atoms of the universe. 

Born From Silver Stones

Born From Silver Stones
© Surazeus
2026 08 07

Too far away to hear song of the cloud, 
three faceless children born from silver stones 
might understand why grass desires to bloom 
on the electric moon nobody owns, 
or else their mother may pluck the mushroom 
that readjusts framework of hungry minds. 

Rough hands dig in wounded heart of the Earth 
where they uncover torso of Apollo 
that beams with brilliant light of inner truth, 
sweet as ripening fruit from Tree of Life 
which bursts with starlight when they bite its soul 
through translucent desire to breathe old songs. 

No blue fish swims in glass bowl of the moon, 
yet Feng Yi rises from attentive flames 
on Phoenix wings of psychic harmony 
to beam her soul through crackling radio 
with heart-enchanting melody of faith 
that startles Hercules awake at dawn. 

Since she supports progressive state of being 
too radical for extreme hopefulness, 
Sigmund shares his eyes with hungry ghosts 
so they can eat sweet grief of lonely souls 
as juice that nurtures bitter river gods 
who never return the dream wings they borrow. 

Surprised by sudden blossom of new books, 
Maria photographs one thousand ships 
that sail with billowed sails on snow-froth waves 
as if their hearts, unborn from serpent eggs, 
might still be fragile as the Absolute 
who stares at dead tree by the clever sea. 

Feng Yi returns to grocery store at dawn 
where Hercules hauls boxes from the truck 
with honey melons from the field of skulls 
where countless warriors of ancient tribes 
slaughtered each other in World War Nineteen 
till second coming of the Brain Machine. 

Maria finishes building table from oak, 
so she stands back in old stained overalls 
to gaze with admiration at her work, 
then Sigmund covers it with plates of food, 
and pours glass of red wine for her to drink 
as ravens gather on rain-wet phonelines. 

Safe in hazardous confines of his mind, 
Hercules redefines reality 
in terms of how Feng Yi paints the swift horse 
with graceful curves of innocent respect, 
so Maria can escape harsh abuse, 
driving Boston to Seattle in rain. 

Seashore Of Endless Worlds

Seashore Of Endless Worlds
© Surazeus
2026 08 07

Let us meet on seashore of endless worlds 
so we can measure the infinite sky 
and savor passion of the boisterous waves 
that stir our hearts with restless faith in love, 
then we can build our homes from empty shells 
and study flow of time with sparkling sand. 

While we dance on seashore of endless worlds 
we can share lost ancestral memories 
to find the common Mother of Mankind 
whose dreams program how all our brains perceive 
strange beauty of this world that gives us form 
so we can sing world hymn in harmony. 

Since we play on seashore of endless worlds 
with friends we have known since our younger days, 
and friends who have arrived just yesterday, 
we weave twigs with leaves into sturdy boats 
to float across Abyss of Nevertime 
so we can find new lands where children dwell. 

Though we float on seashore of endless worlds 
to find pure treasures hidden in the deep 
that we can transform into wings of flight, 
we always return to broad beach of sand 
where children spring from children of the light 
who smile with joy in gusting winds of time. 

Safe in caves on seashore of endless worlds, 
we find the heart of darkness in our eyes 
till we extract bright gems from nothingness 
that gleam with first flash of the flaring forth 
so we can light the Lamp of Liberty 
and find each other when wild tempests roam. 

Still alive on seashore of endless worlds, 
frail bodies molded from soft swirling sand, 
we build enormous palaces from clouds 
where everyone feasts on fruit of the Earth 
till waves of change surge from the lightless deep 
and crush our spirits back to wordless sand. 

Souls reborn on seashore of endless worlds, 
we gather around the small ziggurat, 
where Tethys sits enthroned in fish-scale robe, 
and watch her son Alpheus roast whale meat 
to feed five thousand people with brave faith 
while Metis breastfeeds Athena with love. 

Long dispersed from seashore of endless worlds, 
we live in sprawling cities of tall towers, 
driving cars in maze of elusive wealth, 
but some pause in routine of daily work 
when their hearts hear timeless song of the sea 
that calls for us to return home again. 

Sheer Joy Of The Dance

Sheer Joy Of The Dance
© Surazeus
2026 08 07

For nothing more than sheer joy of the dance 
Tellus explores how her lithe body moves 
through fluid expression of wordless grace 
as she expands from darkness of sea caves 
to understand contours of river vales 
while she floats clandestinely in free trance. 

Startled by sudden attack of three men 
who gallop toward her with greedy intent, 
Tellus turns and flies on ethereal breath 
back to secret cave on the rugged slope 
where she conceals her soul in anxious gloom 
till they decide she changed into the tree. 

Emerging from dark cave of hungry hope, 
on cautious steps that doubt firmness of faith, 
Tellus creeps past the snake-infested tree, 
then huddles inside the large hawthorn bush, 
munching berries as she studies pink blooms 
to understand strange beauty of their swirls. 

Assured cruel kidnappers have gone away 
by eerie susurration of insects 
that cause electric stones of faith to buzz, 
Tellus rises slowly upward from safe haven 
to stretch her legs and arms up to white clouds, 
imagining swan wings sprout from her heart. 

Inspiring deep thick air of afternoon, 
that swells her body huge as pulsing hills, 
Tellus explores how her lithe body moves 
with axial movements of dynamic flow 
through locomotor steps of cautious leaps 
to bound in sudden burst of ecstasy. 

To sway while anchored to solidity 
of undulating Earth through fluid form, 
Tellus expresses intense passion of her heart 
to transcend binding gravity of fear 
and soar on broad angelic wings of hope 
as she accepts limits of psychic flight. 

Enclosing vast persona of desire 
back inside coiled contingency of time, 
Tellus lounges languidly on sly slope, 
gasping deep for breath of divine delight, 
and with bright laughter of her heaving breast 
releases shock of pleasure in sweet joy. 

Three men hiding behind stones of desire, 
watch Tellus dance in worshipful surprise, 
then realize with chagrin of humble pride 
that pure divinity of graceful art 
cannot be possessed by obsessive hands, 
so they secretly protect her from harm. 

How Home Is Everywhere

How Home Is Everywhere
© Surazeus
2026 08 06

The delicate flowers of unknown fears, 
that she arranges in tall crystal bowl, 
reflect strange sorrow of long afternoons 
to simplify how angels become snow 
which transform into blossoms of her eyes 
so she conceals dark evil in her heart. 

She hopes to dwell in her brilliant-edged world 
composed of clear water in the glass bowl 
that shapes silver snow scents of solitude 
in never-resting mind of paradise 
despite calm bitterness of false delight 
though she accepts flawed weirdness of the world. 

Absorbance calculations are acquired 
by utilizing psychic energy 
to prove the phosphate answer could safeguard 
protected combinations of strange thoughts 
assembled from oxidative regret 
that disassembles average memories. 

While crossing sandy bar beside the sea, 
she gazes at the startled evening star 
to measure sudden tide of swirling sleep 
that teaches her how home is everywhere 
since evening bells shape how soft twilight glows 
as if no sadness of farewell returns. 

Safe in expansive bourn of time and space, 
she searches for the Pilot of her ship 
with eagerness to meet him face to face, 
but she finds no one in gray sparkling mist 
except the faceless shadow of her soul, 
her boon companion since hour of her birth. 

Attuned to secret voice of everywhere 
through clear noetic channel of her heart, 
she savors violent repugnance of faith 
for true attention of the hungry mind 
commissioned to destroy the evil vibe 
that pulses in each human heart with love. 

Urged to escape spiritual laziness 
with stark expression of her aching heart, 
she maps invisible tracks of desire 
that reveal her journey around the globe 
because she wants to cherish chastity 
of her noetic relationship with death. 

Thus she decides with autonomous pride, 
as daughter of Heuresis with star eyes, 
she shall ideate new world paradigm 
based on inclusive process wisdom spools 
to bind our hearts with contract of concern, 
then she sets bowl of flowers on the desk. 

Valley Of The Singing Stone

Valley Of The Singing Stone
© Surazeus
2026 08 06

The rising midnight moon of silverness 
photographs beauty of the human face 
with colorful strangeness of wordless love 
to beam shape of our temporary souls 
in hearts of our descendants not yet born 
who wonder why they seem to feel immortal. 

The long-dead version of my secret self, 
who gazes at me from my photograph, 
reveals excessive passion of my heart 
that drives me to become this self I am, 
enchanted by sweet beauty of this world 
which emanates from soft mask of my face. 

Awake in quietness of summer dusk, 
that shrouds my aching heart with evening light, 
I relive entire lifetime of my faith 
through vast eternity of timeless now, 
amazed at how I blaze path of my hope 
toward grave I choose beneath the apple tree. 

I feel glass skeleton of my bright soul 
blaze with electric energy of love 
which I format from my ancestral masks, 
long molded by harsh mountain wind of fear 
as I climb river valleys of desire 
to stand on jagged peak of mute surprise. 

Through frosty aura of conceptual stars 
I see lush valley of tall blooming trees 
as haven where my weary bones may rest,
so I descend from emptiness of time 
to build safe nest in pale of sturdy walls 
where children unravel our universe. 

I feel ten billion stars of swirling light 
explode in every cell that forms my flesh 
so beaming atoms of divine insight 
weave supple matrix of my hungry soul 
as I traverse the swift Albula River 
to dwell in valley of the singing stone. 

While climbing rugged trail of jagged rocks, 
that whistle at fierce blast of silver wind, 
I reach down to hold small hand of my son, 
and help Segomo with attentive care 
ascend high mountain of our lofty hopes, 
so his eyes glow with triumph of our search. 

Victorious with strength of wolfish minds, 
we progress past grim obstacles of fear 
toward moon that glimmers silver in the sky 
as shining mirror of ambitious hearts 
refracting light that guides our arduous way 
to Heaven we envision with brave words. 

Our Children Grow Strong

Our Children Grow Strong
© Surazeus
2026 08 06

We sit beyond broad range of all deceit 
in teeming garden of our alibis, 
still undisturbed by grim visage of Time 
who waits with scythe and glass of changing fate 
to calculate with arcane laws of hope 
how we shall dissipate in swirls of rain. 

No great God watches us with star-bright eyes 
who may have tortured our credulity 
with heart-entrancing harps of holiness, 
so we attend to lives of butterflies 
while seeking to evade astonishment 
of mindless laws all tyrants must obey. 

When faceless phantom of our secret thoughts 
still lingers in quaint garden of our hearts, 
we measure cumulative silences 
to bridge abysmal faith in solitude 
that must empower minds of wanderers 
with passion for weird logic of true love. 

We share our futile thoughts on pulchritude 
with bold unwillingness to learn how time 
unravels secret dreams of happiness 
none dare express with beating heart of hope 
till fraught ingenuousness of humble faith 
requires that we reveal our wounded hearts. 

We gather all our fears in paradigms 
that frame conceptual modes of hopeless trust 
so we are not deceived by clever truths 
contrived by strangers we have never met 
to break conventions of old social rules 
in desperate gambit to no more be tools. 

Based on insight of tense experiences, 
when we are trapped in weird dramatic scenes, 
directed by enforcers of blind will, 
we join force of our hearts with clever tricks 
to slip free from trap of their cageless stage 
by breaking through gold gates of paradise. 

Since we are stranger than powers of laws, 
enhanced by brave ancestral ways of life, 
we grow through each harsh crisis of despair 
more into who we will ourselves to be, 
encouraged by the God of Evertime 
whose eyes are lamps that guide our eager way. 

We grow beyond pert friendship of our trust 
through daily actions of psychic routine 
so we expand scope of our conscious mind 
as one soul woven from two separate brains 
to maintain haven of our family life 
where our children grow strong as we decay. 

Ten Thousand Doors Of Fate

Ten Thousand Doors Of Fate
© Surazeus
2026 08 05

Though evening light fades gold in silent trees 
I listen for soft voices of the dead 
who tell me how their sorrows give them strength 
so I walk through ten thousand doors of fate 
to realign the universe of books 
within vast frame of ever-shifting truth. 

When she first sees him by the river shore 
restringing long yew bow of honesty, 
Cassandra feels her heart become the hawk 
that soars in wings of freedom in gold clouds, 
so she declares to Sagittarius 
that their love will endure beyond the moon. 

Because no one believes her prophecies, 
nor understands weird secret of her code, 
Cassandra carves runes on tablets of wood 
then burns them in the hearths of humble homes 
where poor hardworking people preserve hopes 
in clay jars molded from dry bones of gods. 

Despite success in temple hunting games 
shooting huge winged demons from the sky, 
Sagittarius hides dark thoughts of faith 
for bold ambitious plan to climb high ranks 
and earn grand seat in high society 
within great council of the Elohim. 

When her brother finds apple Eris gave 
as gift where he can choose his cosmic fate, 
Cassandra warns him with strange voice of doom 
that great towers of Ilium will burn 
because he chooses love instead of wisdom, 
but he ignores her warning with snide sneer. 

When cruel Pyrrhus Achillides attempts 
to kidnap sweet Cassandra from her room 
and force her to bear child of his false pride, 
Sagittarius shoots arrow of love 
that wounds his soul and causes him to flee, 
so Son of Cronus saves his bride from shame. 

Warm sunlight gleams on apples wet with dew 
that rustle inside walls of careful faith 
where Cassandra teaches their daughter, Phoebe, 
how to brew cider spiced with cinnamon, 
while Sagittarius teaches their son, 
Saturnus, how to tame the skittish horse. 

When Phoebe and Saturnus see their parents 
snuggling together on the river shore, 
they smile and tiptoe to preserve their peace, 
then blush when they see them kiss with sweet love, 
and never speak about the fall of Troy 
while they hold hands in glow of paradise. 

Alpine Celts Of Luck

Alpine Celts Of Luck
© Surazeus
2026 08 05

If I should register fate of the coup 
in conspiracy to banish the devil 
who thinks our world should be his precious oyster, 
I shall arrive at the housewarming party 
with gift designed from shadows of desire 
which no haughty angel could memorize. 

I cannot save the house my words have built 
except to fold its photographs with care 
and store them in ephemera archives 
so I can almost maintain balanced stillness 
through equal standing of Samasthiti 
since I will only fight the greedy devil. 

Ascendant rhetoric of the art film 
provides framework through ideology 
to maintain distance from the painful truths 
we use to disidentify our friends 
who dwell in natural lightning of dark storms 
that loom black over small towns of our hopes. 

I hear song of the rattlesnake at dusk 
when I stroll casually in desert storm 
to prove my nation is superior 
with ice cream designed by social critique 
because our bodies must adapt or die 
when devils trick us to buy faith in God. 

Stuck on the Low Road back to Fairyland, 
I hide my Wings of Icarus to walk 
the mist-enshrouded shores of Loch Lomond 
where Amanita mushrooms glowing red 
sprout from huge corpses of iron-age kings 
till Pythagoras measures unseen minds. 

Since I support awareness of the world, 
though trapped in idol Pygmalion sculpts, 
I untwist sorrows from my wounded heart 
as writhing threads of alabaster snakes 
to mold eccentric spheres of swirling light 
that flash with signals of social success. 

While watching Hercules with tangled hair 
wrestle the monstrous demon of his heart, 
I see the Golden Lion of the Sun 
expand as emanation from his brain 
so his brave sons, the Alpine Celts of Luck, 
establish Empire of the Seven Hills. 

While strolling around lake near Mount Takoma, 
I notice the watch I wear on my wrist 
has transformed into the white raven quill 
which I employ to compose epic tale 
about ancient philosophers whose ideas 
form foundation of our global world view. 

Son Of Clever Sagittarius

Son Of Clever Sagittarius
© Surazeus
2026 08 05

His coarse woolen coat of unsteady faith 
protects his heart with shield of unconcern 
when he strides in the icy air of dawn 
and climbs the stairway to bright offices 
where he translates strange noises of the world 
as sublime songs only beasts understand. 

He cannot measure vibrant pulse of time 
except through rasping breath of false regret 
spooled into cigarette of bitter pride 
which he flicks over walls of paradise 
to analyze unnumbered days of life 
that he yet earns from random dice of fate. 

He buys the useless book of psychic math 
from the blind clown who pretends not to scream 
so he can calculate code of lost myths 
designed by faceless monster of the cave 
who knows what sorrow always breaks our hearts 
because we prefer to torment ourselves. 

Because the road through Hell remains unpaved, 
he raises funds from private citizens 
to widen highway where the damned still drive 
in joyful search for the arrogant tree 
that grows from corpse of God in summer rain 
while lovers linger in the crumbling barn. 

He ponders how his marriage cultivates 
familiar passion of the aching heart 
for holding hands in affectionate show 
that blind ghosts watch on television screens 
by hiding in the mason jar of trust 
that waits half-cracked in basement of romance. 

He hates that he relies on words of fools 
to understand old social rules of fate 
that reprogram how his brain activates 
assertive deeds of deconstructive ploys 
to redesign how strangers earn awards 
for looking beautiful in polished masks. 

He should share his astrological sign 
as son of clever Sagittarius 
but no one expects him to organize 
sacred feast of the alabaster cow 
that prances in the field of buried bombs 
which spring reborn as soldiers of the crown. 

He savors ancestor sadness of faith 
that urges him to lie about his birth 
since fate is never inescapable 
despite calm presence of the water queen 
whose eyes expose dark secrets of his heart 
then smiles because she loves him anyway.