Whisper Of My Bone © Surazeus 2024 02 24 To circumambulate mountains of words I hang my figurehead on door of thought to discuss psychology with anxious birds who gather on the empty house I bought so rose that blooms from paper of my mind teaches me the transient cloud is my friend. To eat yellow light of the human I that fills my hollow heart with dreams of love I catch blue sparks of rain with open eye when I perceive your soul that beauty wove so we collide with anguish of desire which generates our brains from solar fire. My eyes create new lightbeams from the sun so when I wake from spirit-healing dream my heart will know obvious oblivion that rewinds fate with time regained to seem we are much more than mortal chemicals because we feast and dance at festivals. Though I spent my childhood waiting for truth to map our world with idols of dead gods I now perform role of messiah sleuth, creating virtual worlds with psychic codes so we can distinguish reality from mentally programmed veracity. With each new word I sing I rearrange world view of my mind to unscale my eyes with ancient tones of music I deem strange enough to teach new brave cohort of spies to seek elusive truths deep in our brains which structure hopes in conceptual domains. When I drop thought bucket down well of fear to find new tale no human has yet lived, I discover our world is spinning sphere where every organic creature has grieved death of another creature they adored whose voice springs alive from the monochord. With constructive principle of word faith I mold primary chaos of heart thought to generate new body for my wraith with elegant form of impulse I wrought from conceptual mass to carve mask of I with my sharp tongue in mirror of the sky. To keep my balance on thin wall of stone I sing great detail from our global tale so when you wake from whisper of my bone you will know better how to never fail when you bond with your chosen soulmate who helps you unravel collective fate.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Saturday, February 24, 2024
Whisper Of My Bone
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment