Bullets Of The Tongue © Surazeus 2023 10 31 Reverberating bullets of the tongue untangle haunting shadows of cold streets where blue ghosts wander past wide open doors in search of lost time hidden in old books that reek of rotting apples in gray grass stolen by the boy with one crippled wing. That faceless shadow of my misnamed self who grins from unmirror of timeless fate calls out to me with beast voice of the wind so I am fooled to think the thunderstorm that roars at me with loud fatherly voice perceives my being with wrathful eye of love. So I hang upside down in cave of dreams to swim in moonlit lake of whispering words with potent energy of wasted wish through which I criticize how light reveals stark self-awareness of the laughing crow who leads me on useless search for true love. Young woman in black gown who smiles at me presents her painting on the empty wall of sunlight gleaming beyond nothingness when I reach out my warm capable hand from icy silence of the empty tomb till hot blood streams again in my stone heart. Dark raven of my heart with wings of fire, still perched in twisted oak of ancient myth after rise and fall of one thousand empires, gives me grim shadow of its crippled wings so I can swoop and glide over phone lines to measure progress of justice with death. Down on weed-thick shore of the River Styx we gather at tables with plates of fruit to feast and share tall tales in moon-gold glow in scene forged on the shield Achilles bore during the world war to conquer despair when I pour libation to the Ungod. The voice without a face explains to me justice of our war against cruel hate, so I stand firm on arbitrary spot where I vow to fight to defend this land won by my father in chess game with Death who hobbles to hot forge in mountain cave. If you are still beside me in this maze of hazy visions borne by mangled myth, then know that we will find Garden of Skulls where Ungod waits for my status report so I can earn reward of nameless souls when bombs destroy library of my home.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Tuesday, October 31, 2023
Bullets Of The Tongue
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