Flowers Recite Riddles © Surazeus 2023 02 22 Flowers recite riddles of lonely wind to moon-eyed fish at bottom of the pond who give pens to gods so they can compose fragments of the staircase as sweet surprise, though letters of the alphabet compete with roses blooming in soft silver snow. Flowers wait in bored rain for the white snake to prove her theory about the fishhook because time reveals sweet sorrow we steal despite her decision to play the role no one understands till the paraclete advocates for the perfect midnight show. Flowers consume fake gates of paradise to examine why thunder forms the base of empty nests woven from photographs scattered by bomb blasts when the devil laughs as if we need hunger to calculate vague outlines of our new global world view. Flowers seek revenge on the parking lots within parameters set by blind fates who refuse to apologize at dawn for the sun that disappears in the rune which spells mountain path we must navigate when searching for taut angle of the yew. Flowers leap deep unbridgeable abyss in time for ghosts to attend midnight mass as if the future at train stations waits for children without hope to lose their coats, so we decide to journey in the boat to find the Glow Cloud in the empty sky. Flowers fuel life in vast city maze since death tricks us with the afterlife ruse to relax in glum shade of the plum tree, resigned to believe tall tales of the crow because we worship the arrogant goat which kills anyone who dares question why. Flowers curl roots into sponge of my brain light as honey in hands of the kind crone who makes the sunset vanish without hope in temple paved with skulls of the mindscape too simple for how Sorrow plays the flute in strict tradition of the modern way. Flowers walk to end of the homeless street where old museums live inside my heart more generous than angels working in banks who pretend they do not obey the Sphinx, lost in oblivion through the desert route where the wealthy enjoy my shadow play.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Wednesday, February 22, 2023
Flowers Recite Riddles
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