Alice In Chains

Alice In Chains
© Surazeus
2023 12 01

While strolling up hill street in midnight drizzle 
past store windows glinting with moonlit ice, 
I see Alice in chains emerge from puzzle 
of ancient myths that describe paradise, 
who reaches out her hand on oak-limb arm 
with intention to free me from her farm. 

Her silver kaleidoscope mermaid eyes 
flash spinning merry-go-round clock of faith 
when she recruits me as one of her spies 
commissioned to describe the cosmic wraith 
whose Dionysian spirit of fun play 
inspires Apollo to channel the ray. 

Bright ray of atoms from the pulsing sun 
weaves aching body from preprogrammed nerves 
with compassion that urges me to run 
in psychic harmony with global curves 
which undulate from strict magnetic core 
to compose my star soul from mental spore. 

Conceptual idol of my tropic being 
springs from ardent passion of verity 
with hungry wisdom of angelic wing, 
programmed by authentic sincerity 
to fool my obsequious worshippers 
who measure my soul with spectrometers. 

When I purchase House of the Rising Sun 
from ancient one-eyed crone of the sea cave, 
I redesign ontology of One 
through pertinacious order of the wave 
which rises on tsunami surge of love, 
so I change to Mirror of Me above. 

When blind turtle seer of the apple grove 
solves riddles hidden in code of my poems 
Alice will rise from ambience of the cove 
to generate my brain from chromosomes 
so I can incarnate soul of First Mother 
who teaches me to word self from the Other. 

On shore of River Styx I find the boat 
that Alastor abandoned on his quest 
for shallow moral of the anecdote 
which lead my ancestors to travel west 
on futile journey to the Promised Land, 
lost in amusement park of Wonderland. 

Stuck on roller coaster of politics 
in battle between Christ and Anti-Christ, 
I ask Mithra to help me expose tricks 
tyrants employ in violent coups to heist 
crown jewels of tyranny when the mad king 
wants to dance naked in the street and sing. 

Confused by global game of new world wars, 
not woke enough to disentangle lies, 
I help Alice in chains with household chores 
while she bakes her delicious apple pies, 
so we sit on large iron throne of Hell 
to eat with eerie ringing of the bell. 

Crowned as the new White Queen of Wonderland, 
Alice in chains gives me key to her heart 
so we travel back home to Samarkand 
where we work in temple of the fruit cart 
drawing new maps that reflect the real world 
till second coming of the cosmic herald.