Beautiful Birds Sing © Surazeus 2024 01 31 When statue in the dirty rains decides to claim again power they lost at death, I lay the tiger lily at their base and lead them in the masquerade of faith while winds play with flags in the city square and beautiful birds sing about the moon. When mute clown in black suit and bowler hat stands on white cliffs of Dover in red light, I row my fragile boat across black sea to find the raven queen in misty hills who asks me how the television works though beautiful birds scream at factories. When good King Wenceslaus in silver snow tries to see beyond illusion of faith, I bring him honeyed scroll of bitter truths encoding whir of unborn angel wings that prove we are stuck in our dreamless brains while beautiful birds calculate our fate. When accident of strange identity veils shadow of my soul from dangerous fame, I whistle tunes of summer light in leaves revealing ancient memories I dream from lives of fear my ancestors survived if beautiful birds guide them to their graves. When the deathless past remains in my heart to burn with endless flame of fierce desire, I study causes of each great event to understand how history designs false narratives for who gets credit due as beautiful birds gossip on phone lines. When I invent the audience of my tale by translating weird song of ocean waves, I play with children in garden of trees with golden ball that falls in hungry pool, so I dive to vast cave where monsters dance with beautiful birds on computer screens. When splendor of dawn rain on mountain slopes reveals abyss of wisdom in my heart, I draw your face on foggy windowpane as if this spell will bring you home to me before grim tolling of cathedral bells till beautiful birds shatter mirror doors. When atom of silence beams into life to luminate galaxy in my brain, I conjure all of history through dream code which plays in movies on wall of the cave where Plato constructs ideas with words since beautiful birds freeze in photographs.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Wednesday, January 31, 2024
Beautiful Birds Sing
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