Curse Of The White Raven © Surazeus 2024 02 13 Curse of the white raven in the rose bush turns on the television in the bar so holy warriors watch the soccer game to avoid talking about genocide through institutional neutrality while they consume strawberry root beer floats. Gold glow of sunset through winter-bare trees contrives strange memory of timeless love two people share while baking apple pie despite the unexploded bomb of truth that lies forgotten in the field of cows till second coming of the circus clown. The sad peacock in the gas station lot waits for the Queen of Heaven to buy chips because her daughter ran away from school though she likes to photograph the old men who play chess all afternoon in the park while the blind robot guards the holy book. The boy in the metal boat on Blood Lake thinks about the girl who dances ballet while holding the fishing rod in both hands, ready to slay Cetus to save her life while in the train station Death plays the flute that drives senators mad with lust for war. The Swedish girl in the straw cowboy hat walks jungle trail where purple flowers bloom to ask the chicken on the rusty car about ontology of double speak while sipping coffee ground from bones of gods who dance on pyramid of diamond eyes. As mute subjective spectator of objects I beam with passion for being in the world now here in nowhere of revolving time through stark authenticity of desire while I question if I am real, and here, because with my body I sense pure light. Walking across Bridge of Forgetfulness with the dead whose names are now silver fish that swim beyond infinity of wheels, I lie as if dead on library steps while the ballet dancer in bloody gown reads last poem of the man killed in the war. With intimacy of knowledge we drink wine while bombs fall onto houses somewhere else despite the white butterfly with God Mind appointing cosmic herald to preserve the sacred right to vote for every soul who stares at white raven in the rose bush.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
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