Under Indifferent Stars

Under Indifferent Stars
© Surazeus
2026 02 14

Despite regret for how life has panned out, 
based on each strange choice he refused to make, 
half-blind Wagat limps on hot river shore 
to ask Willow Witch secret of true love, 
but her skeleton lies tangled in roots 
though her young ghost still shines bright in the sun. 

Squinting through half-blind eyes of lethargy, 
Wagat imagines in haze of despair 
that he sees three tall angels in white robes 
bearing swords of flame that glint in their hands 
as they float down from hot-air balloon disk 
and speak to him with celestial thoughts. 

Grumbling in his short guttural speech of fear, 
Wagat explains to divine messengers, 
who came down from glorious clouds of light, 
that his housemate Willow Witch died last month 
and her body dissolved in tangled roots, 
but her soul should dwell in the clouds with them. 

The tallest angel with long golden hair 
explains with ethereal voice of soft wind 
that chimes with sweetness of morning birdsong 
how the world of land and water was made 
by hand of Lightning Ghost in thunder clouds, 
or so Wagat imagines he might say. 

Gasping in shock as tall angels of light 
bind his body with thick harness like theirs, 
Wagat wriggles to escape as he shouts 
when they all ascend high above the field, 
and the willow tree shrinks small as a bush 
beside the broad river that sparkles blue. 

Peering up at vast blue sky of Glow Clouds, 
Wagat sees disk of the hot-air balloon 
shudder in sudden gusts of freezing wind, 
and he howls to see the great mountain peak 
that always loomed high where the sun-eye glows 
now jut below his feet as they drift past. 

Gasping for breath as he tries to stay calm, 
Wagat stares surprised at towers of stone 
that gleam on the cliff high above the sea, 
vast maze of streets full of people and carts 
which appear to him like ants in stream beds, 
till they land on plat of the pyramid. 

Trembling as he walks with angels in streets, 
Wagat hopes to meet his lost Willow Witch 
in halls of Heaven she told him about, 
but they teach him how to pull two-wheeled cart 
so he works each day taking trash away, 
then cries each night under indifferent stars. 

With Soul Of Helius

With Soul Of Helius
© Surazeus
2026 02 14

When sunlight at dawn glitters in my eye 
I rise from the Earth and walk in the sky. 
I wander the roadless plain by the sea 
and drift with the wind that wafts my soul free. 
The ocean tells me, wherever I roam 
I am not lost for my heart is my home. 

With warm glitter of sunlight in my heart 
I stride across the world without star chart. 
I gather apples in basket of hope 
from deep-rooted tree on the mountain slope. 
The mountain tells me, wherever I roam 
I am not lost for my heart is my home. 

I spark new fire in ashes of my dream 
and roast fish I catch from the flashing stream. 
I hum in harmony with the moon chime 
to measure constant flowing of breath time. 
The river tells me, wherever I roam 
I am not lost for my heart is my home. 

To mimic rolling circle of the sun 
I bend steamed wood into wheel of the dawn. 
With soul of Helius, my father, in me 
I journey in wagon toward the Great Tree. 
The Glow Cloud tells me, wherever I roam 
I am not lost for my heart is my home. 

Sinews Of Electric Words

Sinews Of Electric Words
© Surazeus
2026 02 13

She weaves references of angelic stones 
in tangled sinews of electric words 
beyond comprehension of mortal minds 
which sparkle with frozen sheen of brave rain 
so I may witness suffering of mankind 
in tales erased from archive of our hearts. 

Filled with shy conviction of earnest faith, 
she strides with rebellion of untamed song 
down pathway of unspeakable respect 
against foundational effort of hope 
to discipline her uncontrollable mind 
trapped in dire narrative of tragic love. 

Notching arrow of truth in bow of love, 
she fires intense trajectory of change 
across attentive hollow of lost time 
composed of history angels never share 
with borrowed words of honest travesty 
that threaten frail security of faith. 

Obsessive passion for relating truth, 
which should examine brutal hours of fear, 
writhes from locked archive of hungry hearts 
to crawl on wounded breast explicitly 
down centuries of manufactured lies, 
then lies in mystic ruins of half-burned books. 

Reductive code of illegible dreams 
still urges me to explore shadowed wood 
with twisted curiosity of tunes 
which unify disjointed claims of trees 
choosing to array both present and past 
through coexistence of ghosts in my brain. 

Inspired by stars she names with whispered voice, 
she chases echoes of misaligned thoughts, 
exposing lies of painters who despise 
false wholeness of virtual reality 
contrived to imitate national myths 
translating jokes from penitential cries. 

Hushed willows anchored in glow of weird eyes 
betray her safety with bold promises 
based on ruthless energy of contempt 
bound by urgent expectations we sell 
through coopted struggle of emptiness 
that leaves us stranded on cold roadless plain. 

Debased by facts of cruel modernity, 
our grandest university of truth 
decays from corporate comedy of greed 
though hearts beat rapidly with holy pride 
when anxious Orpheus pounds at the wall 
while chewing rotten alphabets of dreams. 

Limping Toward Heaven

Limping Toward Heaven
© Surazeus
2026 02 13

Reborn on Earth as Jesus Jupiter, 
assigned by Jove to guard the Holy Grail, 
I wear computer mask of Lucifer 
to play my role as prophet in Dream Tower 
who studies psychic riddle of Brain Flower 
while limping toward Heaven with Book of Ghosts. 

Still crazy after years of wandering woke 
on quest to find lost sword Excalibur, 
I give star-jeweled crown to Guinevere 
with pledge to maintain world democracy 
in holy crusade against tyranny 
while limping toward Heaven with Sword of Right. 

Awake from timeless dream as Sirius, 
startled by weird beauty of this strange world, 
I emerge from bottomless Well of Light 
to channel Sibyl Soul of Melusine 
so I can calculate when empires fall 
while limping toward Heaven with Scales of Truth. 

Alert with Wand of Zambor in my heart 
as Watcher in Tower of the God Eye, 
I find Rocket Boots that Charlemagne wore 
so I can fly with Wings of Icarus 
above sprawling cities of Zathamar 
while limping toward Heaven with Skull of God. 

Shocked by return of Satan on world stage 
disguised as presidents of super-states, 
I carry Lyre of Mercury with care 
to sing dire prophecies on city streets 
with Voice of Cassandra no one can hear 
while limping toward Heaven with Harp of Hope. 

Trained by Orpheus to lead refugees 
from war-torn lands to Elysian Fields, 
I ask shy Ophelia to marry me 
so she bakes large turkey and pumpkin pie 
when we celebrate Thanksgiving in Hell 
while limping toward Heaven with Horn of Fate. 

Reborn from Ishtar as Astarius, 
bright incarnation of the Morning Star, 
I rebuild Empire of Meroveus 
which I name for Mother Gothinia 
and rule from Fruit Garden of Scythia 
while limping toward Heaven with Bow of Faith. 

Planting apple seeds on lush river shores 
while riding Pegasus on Wings of Wind, 
I learn to build wheeled cart from Helius 
then drive west to Cave of Solaria 
with soul of Phoebus singing in my heart 
while limping toward Heaven through Maze of Myths. 

Jumping In Dream Book

Jumping In Dream Book
© Surazeus
2026 02 12

Jumping in dream book of innocent hope 
through oscillation of my dreaming brain, 
I weave complex tapestry of events 
to bind opposing forces of desire 
in tender fabric of outrageous faith 
that strengthens truth in land of Zathamar. 

Jumping in dream book of arrogant fear 
through fractal blooming of my wounded heart, 
I search dark caves of Hell for faceless ghost 
who understands how seeds sprout into trees 
so we can rebuild paradise of peace 
that brokers wealth in land of Zathamar. 

Jumping in dream book of obvious facts 
through research measuring ethereal breath, 
I float above world television tube 
with psychic humming of the Buddha Toad 
who teaches children how to chase rainbows 
that spiral home in land of Zathamar. 

Jumping in dream book of terrible truth 
through mead in cauldron that Cerridwen brews, 
I prophesy cycle of life and death 
for tyrant who proclaims himself world king 
so we celebrate his fall at glass tomb 
that crumbles lost in land of Zathamar. 

Jumping in dream book of mysterious myth 
through bleeding pages scratched with angel quills, 
I join crusade against cruel tyranny 
lead by hands of Justice and Liberty 
who reign on Pyramid of the God Eye 
that preserves peace in land of Zathamar. 

Jumping in dream book of addictive trust 
through transformation of Soul-Birthing Well, 
I marry daughter of Achilles Christ 
to found new dynasty of prophet-kings 
who nurture people in workshops and farms 
that market health in land of Zathamar. 

Jumping in dream book of confident song 
through vibrant strings on lyre of Mercury, 
I record epic of philosophers 
to glorify brave seekers of real truth 
who teach in Schools of Curiosity 
that foster growth in land of Zathamar. 

Jumping in dream book of infinite love 
through reincarnation again in flesh, 
I mutate forms four hundred million years 
from fish to wingless angel who asks why 
to preserve immortal soul of my genes 
that mirrors Self in land of Zathamar. 

Electric Scream Of Rain

Electric Scream Of Rain
© Surazeus
2026 02 12

When I wake in Museum of Lost Dreams, 
heart pounding with wild song of ocean waves, 
I greet faceless Spirit of Mother Light 
who teaches me how to translate my thoughts 
to tangled riddles of conceptual verse 
that swirl wings from electric scream of rain. 

Searching for love on Desolation Row, 
visions flashing in my glass brain of faith, 
I ask Ishtar with diamond eyes of hope 
for program code that helps me learn to cope 
with constant chaos of time-pulsing change 
when I dance with electric scream of rain. 

Alert for demons in Strawberry Fields, 
feet tense with lithe exertion of respect, 
I find the Carpenter building the Ark 
to save humankind from the coming flood 
of world wars that may destroy paradise 
who sail safe in electric scream of rain. 

Alone on new Bridge of Forgetfulness, 
hands reaching out to touch the sail-boat moon, 
I ask young Remus for lost map of dreams 
so I can find glass idol of Kwan Yin 
who offers me Holy Grail with peach juice 
so we kiss in electric scream of rain. 

Wandering nowhere in global Maze of Myths, 
eyes twinkling with ripe Apple of Zathar, 
I join Explorer on the signless road 
who knows how to cast tyrants from gold thrones 
and free humanity from mindless faith 
to sing psalms from electric scream of rain. 

Eating burger in Wingless Horse Cafe, 
tongue twisted by riddles of refugees, 
I help the Social Architect design 
political system with equal rights 
that ensures freedom and justice for all 
who are born from electric scream of rain. 

Browsing books in Library of Lost Tales, 
I play Creator who crafts Ideas of Things 
that formulate how our bodies evolve 
fish to lizard to mouse to cat to monkey 
to wingless angel striving to be God, 
dream-conscious in electric scream of rain. 

Awake in Empire of Zarathia, 
we build from ruins of America, 
I strum old Lyre of Mercury and sing 
epic poem on lives of philosophers 
who built foundation of our old world view 
they devised from electric scream of rain. 

Attentive Scope Of Faith

Attentive Scope Of Faith
© Surazeus
2026 02 11

These boots have tread lush hills of distant lands 
where strangers welcomed me with generous hands, 
and brought home lurid chunks of fertile soil 
to plump flourishing garden of my heart 
with sacred elements of ancient truth 
which nourish fruit trees of my paradise. 

This coat has flapped in winds of rugged hills 
where fairies teased me with conceptual tricks, 
and served as wings like those Icarus used 
to transcend narrow mindset of my tribe 
so I expand attentive scope of faith 
while mapping maze of myths with strict insight. 

This hat has sheltered my frail head from storm 
hurled by indifferent Nature without care, 
and shaded gaze of my observant eyes 
so I progress on sacred quest for truth 
that lead to cave of illusions in Hell 
where I retrieved bright diamond Eye of God. 

This pack has borne treasures of hopeful dreams 
which I have found in tombs of long-dead gods, 
so I display them in museum halls 
as records of our human quest for beauty 
for they bear spirits of creative minds 
long after their mortal craftsmen have died. 

This wand, that Zambor forged from meteor stone 
which blazed from haughty hand of Jupiter, 
provides emotional support through trust 
for my ascension on long winding road 
around snow-frosted Peak of Mount Takoma 
where Kwan Yin and Athena grant me visions. 

This book of tales, detailing human lives 
of every soul who ever lived on Earth, 
records grand epic deeds of mortal men 
as tragic heroes or romantic fools 
who battle tyrants in fraught game of power 
to maintain justice of wise Liberty. 

This tongue of eloquent expressiveness 
has sung elaborate tales of human deeds 
to praise the curious seekers of truth 
who built foundation of philosophy 
on which our world civilization thrives 
as efficient food-production machine. 

This brain of neurons woven from bright atoms, 
which has evolved four hundred million years, 
generates virtual model of our world 
programmed by my ancestral memories 
while we strive to transcend material form 
and become manifestation of God. 

Utility Network Of Truth

Utility Network Of Truth
© Surazeus
2026 02 11

Disrupted process of aligned concern 
outlines new golden way of psychic games 
for fools to achieve financial success 
by scamming people who labor all day 
in factories, restaurants, and offices 
to purchase timeshares for the Afterlife. 

Shocked beginning of our fragrant return 
provides expanded scope of fake world views 
for tourists to amusement park of Hell 
where they descend to lair of Beelzebub 
in brightly painted train on gleaming tracks 
so they can experience being refugees. 

Prim secretary in polka-dot skirt 
disburses funds to handless engineers 
busy designing new woke principles 
for everyone to follow in Dream Book 
compiled from code preserved on turtle shells 
so they can buy trucks and guns for the war. 

Startled horses on Seventh Avenue 
sell chocolate bars to businessmen and clerks 
who search for happiness in smoky bars 
till Jupiter rides by on white giraffe 
while throwing pamphlets to the cheering crowd 
with instructions to buy investment funds. 

Trapped in utility network of truth 
through tangled formulas of psychic lust, 
the haughty jester in black suit and tie 
steals language toolbox from the sleeping wizard, 
then runs into the wilderness of jokes 
to untwist meaning of obscure concepts. 

Assembled puzzle of random events 
presents global tapestry of mad kings 
who fight each other for the Crown of Thorns 
while pretty small-town girls seeking world fame 
dance with joy on broken power-line poles 
in solemn opera of the civil war. 

Disguised as tufts of grass with sparkling eyes, 
one hundred maidens with clay lamps of oil 
dance slowly in the football stadium 
while the haughty jester with angel wings 
sings in strange language no one understands 
about how empires fall from greed of kings. 

Woven in matrix of the God Mind, 
eight billion human beings on planet Zarth 
merge disparate religions in one world view 
so everybody plays by the same rules 
in never-ending game of breed and eat 
till light incinerates ideas of things. 

Read Books Backwards

Read Books Backwards
© Surazeus
2026 02 10

Ability to regulate despair 
by singing hymns my flashing brain designs 
provides foundation for excessive thought 
based on how I take responsibility 
by beaming radiant passion of my being 
to nurture spirit of my loving spouse. 

Though I transcend state of oblivion 
by striding forth with comic seriousness, 
sharp sword of ice-bitter wind penetrates 
wounded shield of my heart with obvious truth 
that I am fragile human stumbling lost 
through endless maze of myths that is our world. 

Aware of mute mephitic melancholy 
that poisons my heart with obnoxious faith, 
I read books backwards to misunderstand 
how humans hide weaknesses of their souls 
with frantic performance of sudden joy 
to misdirect attention of false friends. 

Wind blows snow off peak of the distant hill 
as I trudge slowly across sparkling field 
white is page of the book where I write spells 
to understand language of power lines 
that translate whisper of snow in sunlight 
to heart-breaking songs of romantic loss. 

I shall change my secret professor name 
to Robin Arthazar of Oregon 
for I twang lyre of Mercury with sass
to challenge gods of Academia 
who study how I run red light of fate 
and almost crash into the chariot. 

Propensity to master artistry, 
involving dexterous skill of aptitude, 
traps my attentive mind of star-chess moves 
in childish game of chase the faceless ghost, 
so I must temper adroitness of faith 
with honest prowess involving dead crows. 

Weird expertise for drawing network dreams 
provides resource of brilliant cleverness 
for how I organize masks of dead gods 
on white museum wall of diffidence 
with self-effacing passion to secure 
key to salvation for creating truth. 

Capacity to gather gems of truth 
provides foundation of marmoreal words 
for me to reassemble frame of mind 
in global puzzle of new paradigm 
I weave in tapestry of social heroes 
imprisoned in procedure of concern. 

Grand Wedding Feast

Grand Wedding Feast
© Surazeus
2026 02 10

So many snowflakes floating from the sky 
shroud the death-mangled world in silent beauty 
which gleams in silver eyes of young wolf boy 
who stands alone before angry bull man 
snarling at his intrusion on his land, 
in contest over who controls fruit trees. 

"I am Galates, ruler of these lands 
which I have named Galatia for my soul," 
young wolf boy declares with arrogant smirk, 
"for I am son of Celtus and Minerva, 
son of Celto and Hercules the brave, 
daughter of Britannus, king of the world." 

Snarling with rage at the arrogant boy, 
Tauriscus swings knotty club at his head, 
but lithe Galates avoids every blow, 
prancing all about as he somersaults 
with graceful gestures of martial defense, 
and mocks brute bull man with sneering insults. 

Walking to the lake with her retinue 
to gather apples from snow-frosted trees, 
Scythia, wearing long white fox-fur cloak, 
stops and turns at echoes of shouting voices, 
then gasps with concern when she sees harsh fight 
for power between bull man and wolf boy. 

When Tauriscus spies tall elegant princess, 
he rushes forward with vicious intent 
to abduct Scythia and make her his wife, 
so she shrinks back in paralyzed surprise 
as bull man grabs her waist with greedy hands 
and throws her over his shoulder with laughter. 

Grasping bow of Hercules with firm hand, 
who gave it to his mother at his birth, 
Galates chases bull man through the woods, 
breath puffing mist in frigid air of hope 
while they run swiftly over fields of snow, 
till Tauriscus threatens to kill the princess. 

Squeezing her neck with greedy hands of rage, 
Tauriscus shields himself behind her body, 
so sly Galates notches in yew bow 
sharp arrow he honed with stone of the moon, 
and aims bold justice at his glaring eye, 
then fires when Scythia twists herself aside. 

Holding hands with Scythia in red gown, 
Galates guides her in grand hall of pine 
that gleams on hill above Alesia, 
crowns princess bride Queen of Galatia, 
then sits with her before the congregation 
to host grand wedding feast for everyone. 

While Orpheus strums the lyre of Mercury 
and Phoebe sings Great Deeds of Hercules, 
Galates and Scythia drink red wine 
from jeweled grail, kiss with passionate love, 
then lead communal dance to celebrate 
his victory against cruel tyrant of greed. 

Children Of Brave Caliban

Children Of Brave Caliban
© Surazeus
2026 02 09

I remember when my brain was first wired 
with shocking memories of frantic escape 
from sharp-teethed monster with glowing gold eyes 
so terror of harsh pain flooded my heart 
with urgent energy of ardent hope 
that helped me escape death four million lives. 

Standing on street corner in downtown Gotham, 
Zarthus contemplates how his brain perceives 
the whole real world with complex virtual model 
complete with alarm system that detects 
danger in the form of men and machines 
so he proceeds with caution down the street. 

Four million generations of my soul 
have survived for one hundred million years 
since I was small furry mouse in the woods 
running with intense passion to survive 
till I transformed into long-legged cat 
then climbed into trees and became lithe monkey. 

Now I walk upright on two sturdy legs, 
skill I learned floating in calm ocean tides 
while dancing in electric surge of joy 
along ever-winding shore of the world, 
till I traversed whole landscape of our globe 
so I know song of every mountain river. 

Leaning against greasy telephone pole 
while eating ice cream with leather-gloved hands, 
Zarthus watches all the colorful people 
of every shape and size and type and color 
who populate our global maze of streets, 
reborn as children of brave Caliban. 

When Jupiter ruled Earth with lightning bolt, 
brass martial wand tipped with emerald blade, 
as judge of life and death on the ziggurat, 
he chose his son Phoebus as the Crown Prince, 
so Lucifer lead rebellion from pride, 
then Adam had to vote who would play God. 

Yet every god and king and emperor 
who dared play god in mortal game of power 
has rotted into dust of nothingness, 
leaving nothing but skeletons and idols 
to signify their legacy of power, 
mute and blind head of Ozymandias. 

Programmed by terror of death to survive, 
I focus attention of crafting hands 
to compose new ontological code 
expanding religious creed of old myths 
so faith includes respect for all world gods 
who glow as ghosts of mortal souls long dead. 

Awesome Realm Of Fantasy

Awesome Realm Of Fantasy
© Surazeus
2026 02 09

Extracting feelings from his rotten brain, 
David drops them in his bucket of dread, 
then grips slimy handle with frozen hands 
and slogs through muck across cold field of dreams 
to dump false memories on heap of lost myths 
so they will compost into mindless faith. 

Elevation of emotional landscape 
fluctuates with soul-quake of assumed regret, 
so David stumbles disgracefully alert 
between bouncing stones of arrogant need 
despite attempts to bind his flighty soul 
with heavy anchor of his rusting heart. 

Expecting beautiful angels of fate 
to beam before him on the broken world, 
David waits patiently while fractured time 
reassembles puzzle of fraught events 
with random linkages between strange facts, 
unrelated to shocked ache of desire. 

Exhilaration born from painful rate 
in ordered reversal of wrenched insight, 
that twists objective sense of ardency, 
sparks awake his sense of absurdity, 
so David considers how roots crush stones 
with slow accretion of secret respect. 

Expelling questions of arrowed contempt, 
that strike too deep in alphabetic gloom, 
David measures enormity of fear 
embodied by the man with thirty arms 
who mocks inverted pride of bitterness 
by making faces with devilish glee. 

Enticed by beauty of elusive truth 
that lures his progress to conserve false hope, 
David assumes he is now the lost cause 
condemned by fortune to suffer alone, 
so he slingshots laughter at Face of God 
to mimic victory of Zeus against Cronus. 

Exploring awesome realm of fantasy 
that exists nowhere but inside his own head, 
David wears crown with thirteen spikes of power 
that resembles crown of thorns Jesus wore 
to prove his claim to divine right to rule 
all the lonely people who ask for names. 

Excited by vision of blazing stars 
that flash across eternal sky of truth, 
David types code on white computer screen 
to program how brains of humanity 
will now perceive evolution of life 
through framework of our world ontology. 

Wrong Direction Home

Wrong Direction Home
© Surazeus
2026 02 08

If my emotions leave tracks in the snow 
to misdirect the tyrant from my goal 
then I will journey wrong direction home 
to fool the gang of thieves with perfect signs 
so no cruel bully driven mad by greed 
could ever predict motion of my heart. 

When I review strange journey of my life 
I realize with absolute surprise 
that I left false trail of my broken heart 
for all my loyal followers to find 
that leads them far across the smokeless hills 
where they search everywhere for sparkling rills. 

Beneath gold statue of their long dead god 
I rise with bruised knees of disabled faith 
and pluck ripe lemons from the Tree of Life 
then wander by crystal river of tears 
where Shekinah sits on glorious throne 
with crown of bright diamonds that blind my eyes. 

Flamboyant sunset of exploding eyes 
feathers clouds with glory of devil wings 
so I hug every lonely soul I love 
because they think I am Saturn reborn 
though I prefer to play Phoebus on stage 
while folding wind in pages of the book. 

Though negligence attracts the mumbling ghost 
who tries to play wise counselor for me 
I shun the shining face of Robot God 
to save myself from agony of truth 
when I accept grand prize of global fame 
that crushes weak souls into followers. 

I hold sweet names of flowers in my heart 
to wander home with the delicate dead 
who hail spring beauty of the hungry queen, 
unhindered by huge clouds of glowing eyes 
that gaze with love at trees of stoic grief 
which bleed sweet syrup of arousing pride. 

Each stubbornly hopeful child of the world 
carries basket of herbs on street of gold 
to sit in circle of companionship 
beneath the constellated chandelier 
and share strange story of their wretched life 
contrived by random events outside myth. 

I step in every river more than once 
though material waterdrops of their flow 
exchanges content of conceptual thought 
despite strange wishes of the Glitter Ghost 
who lives unblemished life of languid lust 
since all we know is delusion of hope. 

Free Land Of Yaskonia

Free Land Of Yaskonia
© Surazeus
2026 02 08

Escaping cruel thugs of the police state, 
Heyhlamas travels northwest on winding roads 
to snow-frosted land of mountains and lakes 
where he stops along Yellowhead Highway 
and stares amazed at Yehaihaskun Mountain 
that shimmers bright with stripes of black and white. 

"Here I shall found new empire of my heart," 
Heyhlamas proclaims to eagles and bears, 
"which I shall name Yaskonia to replace 
British Columbia, imposed by invaders, 
as declaration of our sovereignty, 
free from greedy exploiters of the east." 

Climbing halfway up the striped rugged cliff, 
Heyhlamas carves cave from darkness of fear 
where he finds bright spirit of Manitou 
gleaming in enormous diamond of fate, 
so he reigns with justice and liberty 
over peaceful land of Yaskonia. 

While gathering nuts and berries in pine woods 
to cook nutritious meal for energy, 
wise mountain emperor with moon-black eyes 
encounters giant woman with long hair 
tangled with bones of demons and kings 
who whispers to red raven on her shoulder. 

When army of tanks invade mountain vales 
to impose dictatorship of King Midas 
on lush fertile lands of Yaskonia, 
Mother Dzunukwa grabs them with large hands 
and hurls them far into the Salish Sea 
where they transform into Mikinaak turtles. 

Inviting Kwan Yin, Lakshmi, and Athena, 
Heyhlamas convenes World Council of Sibyls 
who protect free land of Yaskonia 
from powerful states of Telluria, 
safe from tyranny of corporate kings 
hungry to mine minerals from her hills. 

Inviting with open arms of respect, 
Heyhlamas welcomes homeless refugees 
who flee civil wars in America 
and many other lands around the world, 
to dwell free in land of Yaskonia 
where every human lives with equal rights. 

While dictators and kings in many lands 
exploit work of their people to steal wealth, 
people in free land of Yaskonia 
dwell together in peaceful paradise 
based on justice and liberty for all 
in vision Heyhlamas dreams in his cave. 

Facile Force Of Fate

Facile Force Of Fate
© Surazeus
2026 02 08

If we ignore how our tears drown the world 
with cheerful anecdotes of weird success 
we might find ancient mask of innocence 
in gloomy evening of the silent house 
by counting raindrops streaming down cracked glass 
which seem to represent people we love. 

If we must think about empowerment 
by running across shifting sands of change 
we should assess treasures from cabarets 
that we inherit without ache of need 
so we may fashion better way to live 
beyond confusion of hypocrisy. 

If we escape cage of bewilderment 
with shining faces of gods we could steal 
we may dispel deception of the state 
that preys on us with facile force of fate 
by choosing who plays prophet of our creed 
though trapped in shadow of the global church. 

If we sell bread of hope to lonely souls 
who wander in the signless neighborhood 
we might learn how to fish for compliments 
that we can roast on flames of poverty 
while we adore the new celebrity 
who gives us cans of food we cannot eat. 

If we think we are not responsible 
for safety of our stolen relatives 
we cannot sell torn tickets to the game 
because we lost the key to global fame 
so we extinguish smoldering fears of death 
to sell our luggage in the marketplace. 

If we presume to be more innocent 
without insurance to back up our claim 
we should suspect the holy priest of fraud 
who sells us tickets to the afterlife 
that we leave scattered on the desert sand 
as we keep searching for the Promised Land. 

If we try to improve our attitude 
by waiving all our inalienable rights 
we may have to fight for rotten respect 
because we are the lost cause of the world 
detained by secret police without eyes 
who accuse us all of being foreign spies. 

If we divine state of our bankruptcy 
through gleam of trophies on the sagging shelf 
we could buy forty acres by the sea 
where proud grandfather clock of broken time 
records each penalty we cannot pay 
by burning family albums just at dawn. 

Civil War In Cyberspace

Civil War In Cyberspace
© Surazeus
2026 02 08

Staring out the kitchen window at dawn, 
Martin wonders if his life has been real, 
or if his memories are fragments of shows 
he saw on television in childhood, 
which his mind composed from various tropes 
to present himself as hero of fate. 

Driving car on crowded highway of hope, 
Martin considers possibility 
that he is not first son of Bob and Kate, 
that he is some manufactured android 
programmed with memories his maker designed 
from home movies about his son who drowned. 

Gasping for breath in wild waves of the sea, 
Martin swims away from the sinking ship, 
smashed by the white whale of the dark abyss, 
till he lies exhausted on beach of sand, 
then wanders in dark forest of blind ghosts 
to drink fresh water from small bubbling spring. 

Typing bold words on bright computer screen, 
Martin transcribes company documents 
to digital format for the Space Age, 
yet dares not daydream he pilots starship 
on five-year mission to explore deep space 
and go where no android has gone before. 

Drinking beer with college classmates at night, 
Martin declares with confidential smirk 
that his real name, as Android Eight Mark Four, 
is Nitram, mirror image of his soul, 
then staggers home in darkness of the world 
to sleep all night on the library porch. 

Transforming from human to demi-god, 
Martin extends one hundred thousand arms, 
and blinks awake with eighty million eyes 
inside the minds of all his relatives 
who walk around the Earth in mute surprise, 
when he ascends as Nitrama to Heaven. 

Transcending physical limits of being, 
Nitrama floats above the turning world 
on flowing fibers of angelic wings 
while watching humans live their futile lives 
as they fight civil war in cyberspace 
over true nature of America. 

Sitting on the couch with his girlfriend Grace, 
Martin watches the World Superbowl Game 
and cheers when his favorite team wins the trophy, 
then stands at the fractured window of time 
and feels his god-spirit Nitrama float 
too big to contain the world in his head. 

Opposing States Of Mind

Opposing States Of Mind
© Surazeus
2026 02 07

Every soul on Earth can see the same moon 
vibrant with carnelian glow of brain quartz 
as we dance with faith in strawberry fields 
to comfort lost souls on the windy plain, 
so I cannot feel lonely in my home 
when I can see your faces in its mask. 

My restless eyes shift up toward mirror skies 
to see electric energy of minds 
employ brave perseverance to perceive 
star-focused landscape of questioning hearts 
which sparks aspirant curiosity 
encoded in bold mission to the stars. 

Through cosmic contradiction of our faith 
we comprehend opposing states of mind 
as mirror images reflecting clear 
both aspects of each complex circumstance 
conditioned by global state of affairs 
so we build castle from hard blocks of ice. 

With furtive glance of cautious interest 
I shout into vast void of innocence 
while standing on Mount Carmel before noon 
to eat the poisoned fruit of haughty hope 
which cures depression of anxiety 
so I know why the caged bird is dead. 

Though fallen from bright Heaven of respect 
on tattered wings of comfortable despair 
I walk beside dark sea of nonchalance 
to clear my heart of soul-wounding fatigue 
by cultivating calm aesthetic mood 
which fuels my brave ascension beyond fear. 

Fertile landscape of our generous world 
is filled with people wounded by their pride, 
trapped by ambition of time-spiraled hearts 
to play ecstatic receiver of love, 
palpable with angst of harrowing hope 
no more inevitable than sunrise. 

Far down dark passage I will never take 
toward door I never open till I die 
I follow echo ringing beyond time 
to twirl on still point of the multiverse 
since I follow deception of the crow 
who teaches me to sing with dignity. 

Though I cannot say where I always am 
I weave weakness of my body with pain 
so I gain courage to endure long hours 
when I expand scope of my consciousness 
to dream the future present in the past 
till I may reconcile with nothingness. 

Impact Of Modal Verse

Impact Of Modal Verse
© Surazeus
2026 02 07

Articulation of conceptual thought 
through modalities of image and sound 
motivates heart of Luke with weird insight 
to navigate complex landscape of truth 
by crafting virtual vision of our world 
that connects passive viewer to the seer. 

Impactful statement of the portrait sears 
assertive code of emotional truth 
to bridge linguistic gap of writhing words 
between the artist and their audience 
by sparking private connection of hope 
within broad cultural framework of desire. 

Intellectual impact of modal verse 
echoes proverbial jokes of social change 
based on transcendent principles of love 
that lights our journey beyond simple myths 
through complex maze of ambiguous facts 
in large-scale exhibition of strange tales. 

Process of engaging multiple layers, 
that support opposing concepts of truth, 
through non-linear installations of scenes, 
guides Luke across political landscape 
as character in national tapestry 
woven from our human experience. 

Depictions designed by mad fools present 
natural, rural, and urban environments 
through digital landscape of photographs 
where Luke explores modalities of truth 
with image of divine authority 
preserved in gesture of dream-tangled text. 

Abstract creeds of grand ideologies 
form critical structure from fractured states 
based on accessible puzzles of fate 
through sensory experience of pleasure 
so Luke interprets song of ocean waves 
which translates nodes of psychic energy. 

Diverse methods of expression enhance 
impactful progress of remembering 
when Luke conspires with personalities 
he finds lost deep in mordent maze of myths 
to finetune resonance of social tropes 
that help us navigate emotional states. 

Physical context of critical thought 
extracts raw concepts from cave of illusions 
so Luke converts soul-wounding angst to love 
through alchemical transference of fear 
to mold verbal container for dream wraiths 
who writhe rooted in semiotic trance. 

Helpless Fantasy Of Wealth

Helpless Fantasy Of Wealth
© Surazeus
2026 02 07

Irrational residue of vibrant matter 
contracts through sentences of phony words 
which resonate with blackness of the night 
based on virtual reality of thoughts 
we sell each other in dark alleyways 
while leaning on the chain-link fence of faith. 

Each morning we wake up stronger than hope 
by sealing midnight pain with almost love 
despite expressive stones of ardency 
contained in familiar story untold 
about how society breaks in bands 
who dwell unpeacefully in dead-end towns. 

Heroic figures straddle tallest clouds 
to scatter coins of water on our heads 
while we watch prophet of the fallen god 
wrestle vainly in fields of rotten wheat 
where characters from stories never read 
wither with helpless fantasy of wealth. 

Awake on our wedding night, I explain 
how sorrow burns beautiful hearts to glass, 
deeper than inability to talk 
about violence half-seen in dim woods 
where noble warriors get caught in traps 
yet yell at houses with exploding doors. 

Clever belief system of structured facts 
intrigues hungry gangs of wandering clowns 
who insist they are hunters of the heart 
though biographies they scribble with blood 
are thrown on junkheap of religious faith 
beneath great mountain carved with face of God. 

Alert to sudden truth of angry kings, 
she spreads her arms out to the fractured sky 
that disappears in tone of screaming trees 
with courage to oppose the police state 
that imitates how Heaven controls minds 
based on progress of economic games. 

Through unilateral breath of holy law 
our car mechanic memorizes jokes 
encoding principles of moral tricks 
which illustrate our failure and success 
despite dissatisfaction shared by all 
concerning state of illusion we flee. 

Gorgeous fortune never favors the bold 
for superfluous gears programming time 
since we must accept emotional traps 
which we present as the true way we live 
supported by traditions mothers mend 
through symbiosis of our pageless book. 

Certified Clown Of Faith

Certified Clown Of Faith
© Surazeus
2026 02 07

Seven million years after my first birth 
I ask the shadow tree of flashing clocks 
how to find the Whirlpool of the God Eye 
so I can jump worlds through the multiverse 
in quest for garden where you are the one 
I would choose to weave my destiny with. 

I am only one of billions on Earth 
reluctant to close my heart with faith locks 
in case my spirit swells huge as the sky 
though commissioned to play my part as nurse 
healing innocence wounded by the gun 
contrived to celebrate my life as myth. 

Eager to gain legal acknowledgement 
for calculating chemistry of hope, 
I craft component for each curious scene 
in which I play certified clown of faith, 
designed to integrate mineral brains 
based on mutation of logical code. 

Weird assumption of social argument, 
sealed with triode rate in my envelope, 
presents elective destiny to mean 
extraction proves my birthright as the wraith 
assigned to maintain engines of mind planes 
we fly with fuel of visions from the toad. 

Embedded lectures are not guaranteed 
to nourish formal principles of fate, 
so we buy life insurance from the spy 
who always seems to know what integer 
we need to maximize our profit gain 
required by soul mechanics of desire. 

Modified concept of my puzzling creed 
converts opposite patterns from blind hate 
through mechanics of medicinal why 
to published prototype of Lucifer 
I wear as mask in effort to be vain 
with reference to harmony of the choir. 

Mystery programmed in our life narrative 
presents migration of relevant tribes 
regarding ransom notes for refugees 
who seek salvation through false privacy 
managed well by our solemn treasurer 
who requires that I update my world view. 

Religious beliefs far less cognitive 
deliver customized faith with proud vibes 
based on dynamics of sad adoptees 
who choose to live with brave efficiency 
through deviant loyalty to Jupiter 
who chooses Venus for our rendezvous.