Lonely Ghost Of Europa © Surazeus 2024 07 15 Gritty sand of the manic-spiraled hour congeals wordless sorrow into the lemon that spits bitter juice of love in my heart when I dare eat thoughts hidden in your mind so we can measure length of days and nights binding our bodies in children we dream. Cows that provide hamburgers and milkshakes can only be seen from side of the road beyond the barbed-wire fence of paradise as we drive by on our journey through Hell since we never park and call out their names when the lonely ghost of Europa smiles. Since birds refuse to be light thoughts of trees I will glue their feathers in breathless wings so I can wear the red cape of my heart when I soar laughing through branches of leaves that tell me legends of tyrants and kings who bluster on stage of time till Death strikes. After living with the wolf twenty years, when I read glowing books on the cave wall, I wrap his fur around my fragile form and issue challenge to the castle king who is nothing more than some weak old man trapped inside cold cage of his shining armor. Though I have wandered wild woods of the world one million years to find egg of the dragon, I emerge from their shadow of mute fear, singing about how honey bees nurture life, alone with bow and arrows of my faith to bring diamond of truth to the blind girl. Yet little cock with feathers of desire crows loud as the nuclear bomb of cruel greed that rearranges faces of the gods who dance in court of Olympus with joy when Jupiter casts Pluto into Hades after his devils try to storm halls of Heaven. Wandering empty streets of cities at night, I cry for truth in ancient languages that only the sea and the moon remember, so they give me the stone old as the Earth that glitters with first flash of the big bang when I crack it open to search for God. This is the moment when I am most real as I perfect the way I shape my mind with words that flash in swirls of ocean waves so I become the Me my dreams design from living millions of lives over time since I am Earth alive in human form.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus brings hamburger and milkshake to the lonely ghost of Europa who wanders lost in Idaho.
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