Wednesday, May 29, 2019

Transcendental Bard Of Truth

Transcendental Bard Of Truth
© Surazeus
2019 05 29

When my body bursts into flames of faith
I dance in aching spirals of control
to conjure from flesh my chemical wraith
which beams electric passion of my soul.

Wrapping my spirit inside normal mask,
I walk with you all in our psychic maze
then drink immortal love from crystal flask
and chant weird prophecies in vision haze.

Through swirling mist on wild Atlantic shore
old bearded prophet with long snow-white hair
sings to First Mother in our mental core
whose heart embodies our spiritual flare.

Chanting Song of Myself with loving wit,
Walt Whitman spreads open welcoming arms
to embrace every soul with social knit
that binds our hearts with web of magic charms.

Walt leads us dancing on gold beach of sand
to kneel before ancient Mother of Night,
Marietta Alboni, Queen of Star Land,
who sings enchanting spell of Spirit Light.

Marietta, mother from wild swirling ocean,
sings heart-enchanting melody of love
so we envision flash of evolution
that radiates atoms from bright sun above.

Two hundred years ago from swirling waves,
our Transcendental Bard of Truth was born
to sing Leaves of Grass in love spell that saves
lost souls by leading us to bright-eyed morn.

We dance together in tall ring of stones
where sea waves echo his immortal name
then break from egg shells of our mental clones
to play our true selves in our social game.

Old snow-haired prophet sings in moon-lit gloom,
"I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
and what truth I assume you shall assume,
for we are atoms of the cosmic self."

We loaf together on broad wind-blown plain,
observing summer grass with naked eyes,
then twirl laughing to sing in sun-gold rain
and feel our souls swell vast as boundless skies.

Each atom sparkling in my flowing blood,
formed from soil, air, and water of this Earth
connects my heart to glowing stars of mud
which generates my soul through second birth.

At bright dawn of our American Dream
Walt Whitman played Apollo as his role,
now I sing of truth-seekers by Soul Stream
who quest for secret of our great White Whole.

Friday, May 17, 2019

Grumpy Cat Elegy

Grumpy Cat Elegy
© Surazeus
2019 05 17

Grumpy Cat is now the immortal moon
who frowns down at our world of aching hope
with indifferent disdain of secret love
and watches us build empires of control
with mocking sneer at how we all believe
we may be immortal as she is now.

Grumpy Cat sits mute on the window sill
to gaze at busy world with clear blue eyes
that see beyond fake mask of flashy style
we wear to prove we are cooler that death
who waits inside her heart for us to stride
proudly on stage of fame before she strikes.

Grumpy Cat lounges on Throne of Ungod,
presiding over our empire of wealth
with changeless frown that mocks our patriotism
when we march public streets with torch of fear
shouting, make America great again,
then whips her tail that shatters our false faith.

Grumpy Cat climbs tall pile of dollar bills,
one hundred million dollars of world fame
she earned gazing at us from the abyss
with frown of death that mocks our arrogance,
and pees on symbol of capitalist greed,
then wanders into nothingness of death.