Wednesday, June 7, 2023

Revolution Of The Woke

Revolution Of The Woke
© Surazeus
2023 06 07

While driving highway past your empty homes 
I feel your energy vibrate from doors 
that never open wide for wistful wind 
as if our sentimental tales record 
events more strange than mad king on the moor 
who cradles dolorous pride in his arms. 

When I drink from fountain of the blind horse, 
halfway up sad mountain of laughing ghosts, 
my hair sprouts into long vines of pungent grapes 
that taste metallic from lachrymal lust 
so we pray somber to indifferent Earth 
for salvation with sanguine honesty. 

Till Aisling asks me with tremulous voice 
to lead her revolution of the woke 
I float in dreamy mist of eager hope 
that humans may survive apocalypse 
with blessed assurance of naked rage 
because we exercise conceptual choice. 

Each prophet standing on the public stage, 
who reads riddles with literary voice, 
declares holy war against urban sprawl 
while Grendel drinks beer with complacency 
that laughing skull of Hamlet will compose 
new constitution for our global state. 

Though I am broken by life circumstance 
I run around race tracks nine thousand times 
till my heart turns to stone at sudden glance 
of love Medusa translates to sweet rhymes 
since I disappear from each photograph 
when Jesus returns on clumsy giraffe. 

While Bacchus lounges on tattered divan, 
ignoring rusty sword of Damocles 
that dangles from Sistine Chapel of faith, 
I program new world view with secret code 
from song of ocean waves that kiss cliff rocks 
which proves climate change redesigns our minds. 

Since tornadoes discuss theology 
with corporate towers in vast city maze 
about soul salvation through works of faith 
we must ignore poverty and disease 
by offering thoughts and prayers to the bereaved 
who clutch bodies of children killed by guns. 

So I wander home in my shiny car 
hidden in the screaming hills of nowhere 
where deathless mother in long yellow dress 
plays chess with Minerva to win my heart 
because I disappear in words of books 
the not-yet-born will study in high school. 


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