Live With Awkward Honesty

Live With Awkward Honesty
© Surazeus
2023 01 16

The fishing pole that leans against the wall 
weeps not for the father in long wool coat 
who walks in rain along the river shore 
to catch the water demon with his thoughts 
so we can eat roast fish after midnight 
though we ask the darkness of time why death. 

The darkened windows of the smokeless moon 
watch us all live with awkward honesty 
because the great tree on the lonely hill 
teaches us to be kind to everyone 
though strangers may steal treasures we create 
as if ancient beauty could be possessed. 

The image of me you see in your mind 
is nothing more that delusion of hope 
that blinds your eyes to see who I should be 
though I am stuck in shadow of the past 
while searching for the birth face of my soul 
that fades faint as the yellow flame in mist. 

This spot where I stand now in space and time 
vibrates with timeless energy of light 
that weaves my heart to center of the Earth 
with serpent-writhing tendrils of hot nerves 
so I detach my body from this world 
to sit stone still in the turbulent stream. 

The plum tree blooming brilliant bells of faith 
calls me to escape prison of desire 
so I stand in public view to present 
complex pattern of unbelief that binds 
my body to the seething flow of change 
transforming my soul from nothing of light. 

To put my dreams in order which reflects 
doctrine declaring action from intent 
I calculate flash of growth and decay 
in line with formulas of hungry angst 
which frames grand narrative of my success 
not dying every day the sun explodes. 

By framing my weird disorganized dreams 
with fantastic stories no one believes 
I misdirect attention of their greed 
with structured system of the atmosphere 
that numbers rivers still eroding hills 
where I wait on the beach of time to die. 

The letters and books strewn on the wood floor 
document joyful songs of the blind bard 
who prophesied destruction of the world 
which continues to function day by day 
though he sits in fragile silence of despair 
with the fishing pole broken in his hand.