Ghost Mental Ward © Surazeus 2024 05 20 Waking up in the blue shadow of thought inside the white-walled room of dreamlessness, I pretend I am more than some robot programmed to replicate pure happiness that gleams in beam of moonlight on the chair where I sit and teleport everywhere. Soft whisper of the spring-warm evening rain, expressing thoughts that I would never share, caresses concept of the window pane with mapless reference to the Everywhere that lures me beyond the hospital door where I disarrange all our social lore. Each flash of wireless words in waves of weird deregulates strange legal attitude providing clear suggestions for the feared who dance with strict abandon in the nude despite quick tempo of the fiddle tune that tricks me to see your face in the moon. To claim asylum in ghost mental ward, where faces carved in stone may sunly shine, I pretend plastic pen is mighty sword by which I conquer hate with minus sign subtracting rage with compassionate words that distract attention of haughty birds. Waking up in the blue twilight of faith outside stone walls of cold cathedral tomb, I compose my soul as chemical wraith with genetic threads in maternal womb through incarnation of immortal soul reborn from objective of the white whole. Bound with passion of the daily routine that measures progress of evolving forms, I bring basket of fruit to the May Queen whose gentle laughter causes global storms, so I retreat to haven of blank books because the world is run by clever crooks. Prone on steel anvil of spirit rebirth, I writhe from therapy of lighting strikes which swells my brain with visions of the Earth where young lovers explore the world on bikes, till I wake calm in emptiness of rage, ready to perform my role on the stage. These riddling spells forged into mask of I conceal true nature of my being from God who dreams in spiral abyss of my eye, yet mirrors primal psyche of the toad which programs how my brain perceives the world when at last I become the cosmic herald.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Monday, May 20, 2024
Ghost Mental Ward
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