Last Of The Angels © Surazeus 2023 11 26 Last of the angels who know my real name, Sariel waits on the moon for me to call so I stand on windy shore of the lake to watch wolves transform into motor cars, because wisdom cannot be found in books except for riddles written in the sand. The yellow spider who weaves her large web between slender oak and roof of my home explains true love to idol of my soul who walks around pretending to be me while giving flowers to strangers in cars, then sits and cries in the park every night. Another rocket zooms into the sky on futile quest to find life on the moon where Sariel wanders around rims of craters while pondering gambit of the humble queen who wants to ride on the Merry-Go-Round though she was born from white foam of the sea. Ancient secrets on how to live life well are hidden in sad riddles of the clown who stands on dais in the crystal church to preach salvation of arrogant greed that rewards hard work of cheating with wealth, though I prefer to barbecue my heart. Hysterical laughter rings in the church where Sariel wears glass mask of Lucifer to scare young children on Halloween night dressed as Maenads in the large circus tent who dance on grave of the last British king while women talk of Michelangelo. After working in the car factory I ride the bus back to my empty home and listen to the late-night radio show where Cadmus talks about the alphabet he invented after watching snakes glide to capture vision of the Holy Ghost. I carve magic spells on five hundred oaks that spiral into clocks with pretty eyes at casual whistle of Little Bo-Peep whose sheep wander close to Cliffs of Despair while Sariel teaches me how to converse with rainbow serpent in the Tree of Life. Last of the angels who designed my soul, Sariel takes me down to Strawberry Fields where Bacchus plays piano in the oak while I leap backward up Helicon peak on wings of Icarus I stole from Satan till Netaniah shoots bomb at my hearth.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Sunday, November 26, 2023
Last Of The Angels
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