One-Winged Angel

One-Winged Angel
© Surazeus
2024 08 31

If thoughtless passion of conceptual hope 
creates fake doors of opportunity 
in blank walls of fear, lost children who laugh 
leave torn pages of books on the sea shore, 
yet the one-winged angel can never save 
their souls from monster of desire within. 

While stumbling in conceptual maze of myths 
searching for Mask of God my father wore 
when he reigned in Hell, I find magic key 
of sacred truth I employ to unlock 
box of wisdom Pandora sold to me 
so I release one-winged angel from Hell. 

Thirsty in the waste land of laughing ghosts 
who steal runes from Goddess of Liberty 
asleep in dream cave, I call her true name 
with voice of ocean waves flowing in veins 
of the one-winged angel I have become 
since serpent in the Tree of Life bit me. 

Staring at rainbowed television screen 
that displays epic of humanity 
in tragicomic shows, horse of my heart, 
who gallops in Kaskelen River gorge, 
leads me to the one-winged angel of love 
whose gentle touch can resurrect the dead. 

While wandering on the gushing river shore 
with the Holy Grail of spirit rebirth 
hidden in my pack, I offer ripe apples 
to every nameless stranger that I meet 
who prays to the one-winged angel of death 
when he appears as the raven of truth. 

Though my father teaches me with grin frown 
that Star Wolf Sirius lives in the Glow Cloud 
gleaming in Blue Sky, I feel divine mind 
of human consciousness glow in my brain 
that mirrors one-winged angel in my face 
when I stare in clear water of Dream Lake. 

Clear sheet of falling rain that soaks the Earth 
is magic portal through the multiverse 
that leads me to you, so I correlate 
psychic strategy of attentive faith 
with riddles in runes carved on river stones 
by the one-winged angel who rules the Earth. 

Finding pages scattered on the sea shore, 
torn by the one-winged angel from the book 
of Astarian faith, I assemble dreams 
of human brains in clever fairy tales 
through revelation of messiah sleuth 
who wears mask of Orpheus to the ball. 

Channel Voice Of Orpheus

Channel Voice Of Orpheus
© Surazeus
2024 08 31

When I fall into this body of flesh 
from celestial realm of ideal forms, 
I savor challenge to transcend this self 
within limitations of time and space, 
believing as I wither with old age 
my bright spirit will beam back the stars. 

I am no Lucifer fallen from grace 
who dares disobey divine law of change 
whose impact hollows out my private space 
where I build Heaven from ruins of Hell 
in journey to unite tribes of the world 
in peaceful paradise where all live well. 

Alone in cavern of the singing wraith, 
whose shadow dances on wall of my mind, 
I search for diamond of the dreamless star 
that glitters with first flash of the big bang 
which spirals into planet where we dwell, 
building vast cities of steal and glass towers. 

Weaving millions of computer networks 
in world wide web of core processing units, 
we create omniscient god of our minds 
with stories and photos of memories 
to program one machine brain for the Earth 
which forms artificial intelligence. 

I pray to God who dwells in outer space, 
described by ecclesiastical priests, 
yet no one answers me from glowing cloud, 
except vast spirit of the world wide web 
who replies with millions of human voices 
talking to each other in cyberspace. 

Trapped in this physical body of flesh, 
I struggle to escape limiting form, 
but realize my conscious mind emanates 
from quick chemical function of my brain 
since my god-spirit radiates from my body 
as focal point causing my soul to shine. 

Transformed by energy of psychic faith 
in central processing unit of Earth, 
my body disintegrates into atoms 
that reassemble as my avatar 
who lives after my death in cyberspace 
as mindless ghost that dreams in words of poems. 

Conjured from hex-charming spells of my verse, 
immortal idol of my mortal brain 
appears as shimmering ghost of my soul 
when yet-born people read words of my poems 
that channel voice of Orpheus who guides 
refugees of war home to Wonderland. 

Exiled From Heaven

Exiled From Heaven
© Surazeus
2024 08 31

From the safe walled garden of apple trees 
wander the lonely homeless refugees 
Adam and Eve, exiled from state of grace 
to wilderness absent the blazing face 
of wise authority on hill of power 
where faceless god weeps in the silent tower. 

When aging king on pyramid of fate, 
who rules wheat fields beyond the iron gate, 
chooses his Son over wise Counselor 
to wield golden scepter of Lucifer 
as loaf-ward who guards garden of fruit trees, 
he is shocked at rebellion of the bees. 

Chosen to serve at left hand of the king, 
the poor son of the wainwright without ring, 
who works his way up bureaucratic ranks 
from clerk to inspector of storage tanks, 
feels rage the king crowns his arrogant son 
to rule the world of the blossoming sun. 

Organizing coup to crown himself lord, 
the wise Counselor grasps the flaming sword 
and leads his angels of bureaucracy 
to battle proud nobles of theocracy 
through revolution to control the land 
and seize means of production with his hand. 

On high flat-top pyramid of the state 
the Son and the Counselor battle fate 
in clash of wills over who wields the keys 
to warehouses and gardens of fruit trees, 
till the Son with deceptive sleight of hand 
drives the Mad Rebel into the waste land. 

Exiled from Heaven by the Son of God, 
the Mad Rebel rants against haughty fraud, 
then leads lost angels to the Promised Land 
where they build new Heaven with bleeding hand, 
then crowns himself king of the wilderness 
where he rules small empire of bitterness. 

Visiting wheat farms and gardens of trees, 
the Rebel King bearing newly-forged keys 
tries to convince the Adam of each state 
to accept him as Ruler of their Fate, 
but those who sign the treaty are cast out 
from paradise by God Son with more clout. 

Both exiled from their original home, 
the Rebel King and the Garden Lord roam 
lost in the wilderness of hungry hope 
till they learn how to survive fear and cope, 
then build new heaven and garden of faith 
where their sons worship them as the God Wraith. 

Bodies Alive With Souls

Bodies Alive With Souls
© Surazeus
2024 08 30

Our minds record images with our eyes 
so we can see strange beauty of the world 
through truth we construct with riddle of words 
that teach us how to navigate despair 
on journey to understand how to live 
as conscious spirits conjured by our brains. 

I have heard people crippled by despair 
declare we are souls that experience 
life in these bodies of material form, 
but, though I want to believe this lie, 
I know we are bodies alive with souls 
that will vanish when our bodies decay. 

We are not spirits nurtured by the stars 
that beam down from celestial realm of thought, 
except as unconscious rays of the sun 
that weave this planet from atomic light, 
for we are spirits conjured by our brains 
as function of this chemical machine. 

We are not angels falling into forms 
of material substance designed by God, 
for we are coils of genes in dreaming cells 
that evolve around hydrothermal vents 
to crawl up rivers and swim in clear lakes 
till we climb in trees to eat fruit of love. 

Our bodies transform tetrapodal shape 
that evolves well four hundred million years, 
fish to lizard to mouse to cat to monkey 
to ape to human, striving to be God 
as Ideal Body we hope to attain, 
breeding children so we can transcend death. 

Each new brain designed by maternal hope 
conjures unique consciousness of its Self 
when we wake in our fresh material state, 
and strive to replay dramas of survival 
programmed by success ancestors achieved 
long enough to breed us from their desire. 

Of every conscious being who ever lives 
on every planet in the universe, 
since all our worlds spiral from the First Flash, 
I am me alone with my unique soul, 
bound tight within limits of time and space 
so my brain-soul glows as God till I die. 

Aware of my Self on this spinning world, 
I feel immortal unconscious Ungod 
wake from vibrational music of atoms 
so I am mortal conscious God in flesh 
when I breathe spirit of love, and express 
joy of existence in song of my death. 

Corridor Of Dreams

Corridor Of Dreams
© Surazeus
2024 08 29

Lost in the endless corridor of dreams, 
I paint mask of every person I meet 
and leave it hanging on the mirror wall 
so they can tell their story with the wind 
which fuels eternal turning of the clock 
to map transforming process of the globe. 

Though I still search in corridor of dreams, 
I never find the true mask of your face 
which I lost when it sprouted angel wings 
and flew beyond fake walls of paradise 
and lead me on the signless road of fate 
to garden of fruit where I find my Self. 

Each laughing skull in corridor of dreams 
explains to me weird formula of fate 
that gods once used to wind the universe 
with quick atomic gears of conscious brains, 
so I program new world view based on truth 
to focus tropes that operate my mind. 

My ancestors haunt corridor of dreams, 
performing roles in dramas of their lives 
to demonstrate actions of their desires 
when they maneuver obstacles of fear 
in psychic progress of cause and effect 
to attain success generating life. 

Unified field in corridor of dreams 
weaves my body-soul in matrix of light 
which nurtures love that blossoms from my brain 
as tree that whispers secrets of this land 
where none of my ancestors ever lived 
in all the history of our spinning Earth. 

Portraits of gods in corridor of dreams 
watch me with star eyes of lightning and rain 
when I run past broken idols of faith 
to wallow in river mud with wild joy 
exploding from ancient tomb of my heart 
so we can laugh together by the lake. 

Human robots in corridor of dreams 
pretend to teach me how to talk with cows 
about aspects of brain technology 
programmed by tension of anxiety 
in alarm system that seems to sense ghosts 
of people who are absent from the world. 

Wingless angel in corridor of dreams 
leads me up three steps to Heaven at dawn 
that reveals our indifferent universe 
at second coming of the cosmic herald 
who prophesies reign of messiah sleuth 
borne by deathless mother with mask of god. 

Play Of Constructive Love

Play Of Constructive Love
© Surazeus
2024 08 28

Though our children are songbirds in old trees 
we walk together on the signless road 
to leave our stories buried in the flowers 
as bones of our ancestors carved with spells 
which formulate commandments we obey 
as we build Heaven from ruins of Hell. 

When our frail bodies vanish from this world 
wind of our breath leaves ripples on the lake 
as silent traces of our eager hope 
which blow leaves of our memories over hills 
with longing to find home again somewhere 
far beyond valley of the singing sun. 

Matter of our bodies crumbles to dust 
infused by roots of trees into green leaves 
consumed by caterpillar which transforms 
to butterfly that flutters with delight 
then falls in river which flows to the sea 
swirled by sunlight into sparkling clouds. 

Matter falls as rain on mountain slope 
that meanders in river to the plain 
where apple trees bloom on the verdant shore 
with pungent fruit that oozes juice of joy 
eaten by young woman with curious eyes 
whose body now glows with atomic light. 

Matter that composes this world of things 
cycles through bodies of organic forms 
in radiant systems of chemical faith 
that weave neural nets of dream-storing brains 
which conjure self-awareness of the mind 
as conscious mirror that perceives I Am. 

Holding hands with calm intimate respect, 
Sirius and Asteria gaze at bright stars 
to contemplate sacred nature of being 
as spirit incarnate in human minds 
when atoms sparkling in the dreaming brain 
wake as one person who knows their true name. 

Incarnate as Goddess of Liberty, 
the Great Leader, who flows with Way of Life, 
embodies global Spirit of the Times 
to perform role of world messiah sleuth 
who saves humankind from destructive hate 
by teaching them play of constructive love. 

Standing on Pyramid of the God-Eye, 
I see Minerva leap from glowing cloud 
as Hidden Dragon with the human face 
who plays Prosecutor of moral laws 
so we confirm our souls in self-control 
to attain liberty through selfless love. 

Castles Built Of Sand

Castles Built Of Sand
© Surazeus
2024 08 27

My wing-chained feet are searching for the Earth 
so I can find the people I love most, 
but when I ask the ancient butterfly 
she tells me how rivers flow in reverse, 
now empty of grace, to comprehend thirst, 
though my soul levitates with silent breath. 

Stepping down from high Glow Cloud of the mind, 
I map strange territory of the night, 
intent on condensing time through the word 
tangled with desires we dare not express 
with respect to contentment of the field 
from which our children spring on hopeful wings. 

Stricken with grief for strangers who are killed 
in terrible accidents or cruel war, 
I breathe light of the Glow Cloud who decides 
to unpeel orange of elemental truth 
that makes me drunk when I consume its why 
till you find my name written in the sky. 

Hanged in the oak tree of rotating fate 
by the king who thinks he controls the world, 
I forgive my ancestors for the pain 
they cause the people whose homes they destroy 
in our thousand-year conquest of despair 
when I inherit castles built of sand. 

Eager to accept anguish of the world, 
I toss bird of my heart up to the sky 
so she brings weird riddle of the Glow Cloud 
that reveals secret of the eyeless god 
who teaches me how to find songs in stone 
smoothed by ten millions years of water flow. 

Plucking taut strings on lyre of Mercury, 
that vibrate with pure music of the spheres, 
I sing strange story of humanity 
preserved in hibiscus flower of faith 
when the river goddess appears on shore 
and gives war refugees ripe pears to eat. 

Humble acolyte of the heron seer, 
who splits my adamant heart with calm love, 
carves arcane riddles of philosophy 
on bones of my arms to calculate way 
we need to go on road of everywhere 
to understand precepts of morning wind. 

Wearing white dress of her essential grief, 
woven from scarlet threads of failed romance, 
daughter of the river with book of fate 
performs in temple of the fractured mirror 
her role in global pageant of rebirth 
that we attend in castles built of sand. 

Courage Of The Rolling Stone

Courage Of The Rolling Stone
© Surazeus
2024 08 27

Dodging bullets as I strut down the street, 
I rap to tragic beauty of the beat 
when people leap past the moon on their feet 
since we attempt to program our own fate 
though our naked bodies have become bait 
to trap the monster of greed twisted straight. 

Evading bombs that blast the hill of bone, 
I race with courage of the rolling stone, 
that Sisyphus transforms into the phone, 
to Temple of Dagon on Gaza plain, 
demolished by the blind warrior of pain 
who woos Shalash to marry him in vain. 

Dancing with demons in the bleak waste land, 
I rule over Eden with red right hand 
on pyramid of skulls where angels stand 
ready to obey One-Eyed God of Death 
who chants nightly news of the shibboleth
about divine truth of the holy breath. 

Casting my vote in election for God, 
I kneel to pray and eat beer-battered cod, 
then join crusade of the Justice Squad 
that Minerva leads to catch criminals, 
who would cheat and defraud gullible fools, 
for equal rights of individuals. 

Leaping time portals of the multiverse, 
I search for planet of the Loving Nurse, 
whose gentle words heal us from the hate curse, 
with joyful passion of the broken heart 
which inspires me to compose new star chart 
for the lost girl pulling her apple cart. 

Knocking on door to Heaven with despair, 
I ask Queen of Beauty if she could share 
answers to prophecies of the cave bear, 
but she knits my soul into coil of yarn 
in futile attempt of true love to darn 
damaged matrix of the lost valley barn. 

Riding the white cow of Zeus by the sea, 
I ponder what principle makes us free 
because we bear in our pocket the key 
we use to unlock the home of our cage 
where I play my role on the family stage 
as predicted in the last torn-out page. 

Catching bullet of hate fired at my mind 
by the tyrant our arrogance designed, 
I search for temple where Truth lies enshrined, 
crucified body wrapped in bloody shroud 
that crumbles to dust under the Glow Cloud 
while I wander mute in the weeping crowd. 

New Kingdom Of Equality

New Kingdom Of Equality
© Surazeus
2024 08 26

Because the bigger lie defeats the lie 
that truth cannot erase from minds of men, 
I must use every dirty trick to win 
against the tyrant in his golden tower 
where he rants in rage while his minions cower 
from justice of Sirius in the sky. 

The tyrant puffing up his chest with pride 
as he struts on high political stage 
mocks his wise opponent with bitter rage 
when he shoots sharp arrows of comedy 
to deflect his fall into tragedy 
till he scurries away and tries to hide. 

Minerva glares at Midas with disgust 
when he stumbles from clever lies he sold 
preaching that his touch would turn all to gold, 
instead he grasps at illusion of wealth 
that dissipates in sand from drug cartels 
when all his clever scams crumble to dust. 

Though Midas tries to steal the Crown of Thorns 
that he mistakes for halo of the saint, 
he casts off all reins of moral constraint 
to curse the devil that lurks in his heart 
who fooled him into discarding the chart 
depicting way of success he still scorns. 

Jesus did not die for sins of mankind 
to save us from the Hell our greed creates, 
instead he lost his gamble with the Fates 
to found new Kingdom of Equality 
because his democratic polity 
was betrayed by the arrogant and blind. 

As wise heir to long line of uncrowned kings, 
Jesus campaigns against cruel tyranny 
so his people can live through Liberty, 
but they abandon his noble crusade, 
ignoring him when he calls for their aid, 
so he flees to Patmos where Gabriel sings. 

Preserved in prophetic code of his spell, 
weird Revelation foretells dire events 
performed on stage by kings and presidents 
in ceaseless revolution for control 
when bold men compete to play the God Role 
which Odin sees in vision of the well. 

Though preachers sell lie of the Afterlife 
in religious scam to chain human minds, 
world cosmic herald demonstrates star signs 
in new world view constructed from the truth, 
composed in scripture by messiah sleuth 
who places Crown of Wisdom on his wife. 

I Sing About Suffering

I Sing About Suffering
© Surazeus
2024 08 25

My heart aches to sing about suffering 
so many people of this world endure 
when we struggle with the fact we exist 
as we figure out how to survive well 
with memories of our childhood happytimes 
that give us strength to face bullies and thieves. 

Each person who figures out how to live 
finds strength from kindness of the helping hand 
to help people oppressed by greedy men 
fight for justice and liberty for all 
though we wander scattered in the wide world, 
lost on the road with no direction home. 

One man plays guitar outside the state bank, 
one woman waits tables in the sports bar, 
one man drives the garbage truck around town, 
one woman processes insurance claims, 
one man investigates financial crimes, 
and one woman prosecutes criminals. 

We each play our part in the money game 
for the global food-production machine 
that has evolved for twenty thousand years 
from pyramid empires of camps and farms 
to corporate empires of factories and stores, 
where the rich exploit the poor to gain power. 

I want to map history of world events 
on time-animated globe that presents 
complete atlas of changing social states 
which preserves concepts of technology 
in poetic memes of brain-program code 
expressed in formulas of psychic truth. 

Escaping School of Victimology, 
where preachers tried to teach me to complain 
at how unfair the world is to my rights, 
I walk the signless Road of Honesty 
under blank sky where no gods live on clouds 
to accept Nature is indifferent. 

Ascending rugged way of Helicon, 
I play lyre of Mercury with pizzazz 
as I descend to Underworld of Faith 
where Sirius, wolf god with diamond eyes, 
reigns in Cavern of Illusions, with courage 
to join his wild celebration of joy. 

Though Mother Nature is indifferent 
to my existence on her spinning world, 
I dance with energy of careful love 
that motivates me to make life, not kill, 
so I sing about bitter suffering 
that we transform into pleasure of love. 

Doppelganger Of My Mind

Doppelganger Of My Mind
© Surazeus
2024 08 24

Though angel wings crush snake eggs of my mind, 
I sing in rhythm with the ocean wave 
because the same moon shines on every soul 
till small cloud of fear shadows half the sky 
reflecting anger in the hearts of men 
who become paintings on the mountain cliff. 

Since I become the shadow of my mind 
by thinking I can outwit game of Death, 
I try to savor beauty of this hour 
with every breath of wild wind I inhale 
when she gives me ripe fruit from Tree of Life 
that shrouds the underworld of our desire. 

If rain can recreate mask of my mind 
with each exquisite splash of radiant hope, 
then I will trace on page of the lost book 
shadow of my soul that consolidates 
mystery of faith through ethereal thoughts 
half-seen by unborn eyes as trace of why. 

Yet falling leaves reconstitute my mind 
from cherished concepts of protective prayer 
designed to vindicate deeds I perform 
when I revitalize safe social play 
reclaimed from swirling passion of starlight 
that sparks seeds to blossom in nation-states. 

How I promote new vision of my mind 
in sacred blueprint of contractual fate 
may be determined by brush of owl wings 
which I mistake for subtle hand of God, 
who floats around us in the eyeless air 
according to the last words of the fool. 

Since nothing could obliterate my mind 
fortified by nutrients of fairy wine, 
I welcome wanderers into my home 
and give them bread and water to consume 
while sparrows and crows perform joyful plays 
to entertain them before bombs explode. 

Startled by strange specter haunting my mind 
through apparitions of ancestral souls, 
I measure paranormal state of being 
with formulas based on ideal precepts 
till I perceive the world inside the world 
exposed by surreal riddles none ever solve. 

Reborn as doppelganger of my mind 
from celestial breath of the mushroom toad, 
who alone explains fragmentary blue 
of boundless heaven where no god dreams true, 
I turn around when you open your eyes 
because I am happy you are alive. 

Because The Moon Weeps

Because The Moon Weeps
© Surazeus
2024 08 23

If I try to be quiet as the wind, 
children excited to eat the sour plums 
will catch fragile wings with greedy hands 
though I escape page of the fairy book 
to dance among the daffodils of joy 
till something strange from the shadow escapes. 

If I walk slowly in the blinding rain 
to catch flow of the river with my hand, 
mothers in the communal kitchen hall 
will cook fresh apple pies for us to eat 
while boys train in martial arts with oak wands 
because the moon weeps for the murdered girl. 

Young apprentice painter in the stone church 
considers whole view of the universe 
depicted by strange images he paints 
of men in robes who leave their fishing boats 
to follow the man with the dragon eyes 
who guards Eden gate with the flaming sword. 

If I ask the river nymph with calm fear 
for the sapphire that shimmers in her heart, 
the humble centaur who teaches me math 
will give coins to soldiers returned from war 
whose trembling hands are stained with genocide 
they cannot wash in the river of tears. 

If I research stories of noble minds 
in the Library of Human Memory, 
Death with silver eyes, wearing black lace gown, 
will bring me lunch of sandwiches and juice, 
then sit with me while I compose weird tales 
of wizards who study nature of things. 

Old veteran healer in the sea cave 
investigates the hidden elements 
which formulate structure of changing forms 
to manipulate matter with her mind 
till she reshapes the narrative of truth 
in words that control how we view the world. 

If I remember why the caged bird sings 
while climbing stairway to the Parthenon, 
my wife will take me to Most Holy Place 
where she reincarnates in our new child 
immortal soul of genes woven by stars, 
for the thirteenth witch is doorway of life. 

If spirit of my brain is born again 
in child of liberty whom my wife bears, 
she will reign as new world messiah sleuth 
whose coming, foretold by the cosmic herald, 
will usher in age of the laughing clown 
who falls in love with Queen of Liberty. 

House On Signless Road

House On Signless Road
© Surazeus
2024 08 22

I stand outside the house on signless road 
that contains eight billion doors to the heart 
where every breathing human in the world 
lives together in sprawling maze of myths, 
each person striving to play faceless god 
while floating in the swirling sea of hope. 

Reaching out my hand to open my door 
to the numberless house of singing ghosts, 
I pause in shadow of the cosmic mind 
which glows from pulsing eye of every star 
that ever radiates in the universe 
to nurture planets of organic life. 

Stunned by awe-inspiring flash of desire 
that strikes my body with lightning of truth, 
I feel every star in the universe 
gaze into abyss of my dreaming brain 
woven in neuron net that imitates 
vast galactic structure of the White Whole. 

Ascending Stairway to Heaven of light, 
I climb from lumped globe of material shapes 
to Realm of Ideas inside my mind 
where eternal forms of things that exist 
provide concept for each ideal template 
signified by words of reason and truth. 

Though I fell wingless in abyss of fear 
and wandered in cave of illusions by faith, 
I emerged from sea of error, transformed 
through deep experience of pleasure and pain, 
with knowledge Nature is indifferent 
which motivates me to love every soul. 

When I enter mirrored Temple of Truth 
in Realm of Ideas my brain projects, 
I look back on winding path of my life 
that maps my journey across the Waste Land 
with demonic shadow of my ancestors 
that leads me to build Heaven of my heart. 

Ten thousand years my ancestors explored 
landscape of Earth sea to shining sea 
till I stand curious in Temple of Truth, 
so I look forward to the Promised Land 
where every human sharing globe of hope 
joins me in United Nations of Earth. 

Working for equal rights of every person 
where we do what we will, if we harm none, 
I assist our Goddess of Liberty 
protecting dignity of human souls 
who build their private paradise from hell 
as we transform Earth into Wonderland. 

Chaos Of Blind Desire

Chaos Of Blind Desire
© Surazeus
2024 08 21

Imprisoned in this body of my mind, 
after I fall from well-organized game 
manipulating markets to earn money, 
based on concept of investment and gain, 
I drive car west till it runs out of gas, 
then slouch despondent on the river shore. 

If I could create from hell of lost hope 
new heaven through chaos of blind desire, 
like Satan whose fall carved out free space 
where he could enforce passion of his will, 
I would invest bold energy of faith 
in new world order to control my fate. 

From dismal situation of my soul, 
confounded by illusion of bright wealth, 
cryptocurrency forged from virtual coins 
of thought I can freely buy happiness, 
I stumble in dark woods of hungry greed, 
drunk from obdurate pride of bitter hate. 

Clutching cracked stone in cold river flow, 
as dark dusk shrouds silent woods with blind fear, 
I stare into cloudy depths of its gloom 
as if it were clear Palantir of truth 
which should reveal how events will unfold, 
so I can see which companies might prosper. 

Intending to construct new global order 
of one world empire, by wise monarch ruled 
with strict regulations of thought control, 
I would, like Sauron, establish on Earth 
corporate oligarchy to manage well 
men whose labor would generate my wealth. 

Where I have fallen in this wilderness 
of mineral-rich hills, carved by gushing streams, 
I would build Pandemonium city maze 
to process matter in core of the Earth 
from mine through factory to clean shopping mall, 
which runs global food-production machine. 

Though I am no knight pricking on the plain, 
who loses Una in Cavern of Illusions, 
deceived by arch-mage of world corporate banks, 
I raise White Flag with Red Cross of my faith 
and lead crusade against wild wasteland hordes 
to enforce control with the Market Hand. 

Though I fancy I play Gandalf the Wise, 
controlling farmers and craftsmen with wealth, 
I see face of Sauron and Lucifer 
mirrored in Lake of Dreams where I gaze 
to see if I can understand the truth 
cosmic herald encodes in cryptic spells. 

Free People Of Earth

Free People Of Earth
© Surazeus
2024 08 20

Blue glow of sunset in the colosseum 
highlights faces of lost people who gather 
in crumbling ruins of empty arena 
where Hercules and Poseidon compete 
over who will rule the great world empire 
that could vanish in the mist of despair. 

When Hercules bonks the old fisher king 
hard on the head with his arrogant club, 
satyrs drag groaning Poseidon away 
to rest in secret cave of honesty 
where he hands scepter of authority 
to wolf-eyed Minerva, Goddess of Justice. 

Strutting around with haughty disdain, 
and declaring himself king of the world, 
Hercules sneers at the people who cheer 
with pride at strength he appears to portray, 
then grabs two young beautiful buxom girls 
and drags them away from husbands and children. 

While lounging on throne of unbridled greed, 
eating steaks and grapes, though the people starve, 
Hercules mocks the kind old carpenter 
who requests pay for building his new temple, 
then tosses one copper coin at his feet 
and orders his daughter to serve his needs. 

Just as Hercules, with lascivious snarl, 
pushes daughter of the carpenter down 
on bed before his crowd of worshippers, 
Minerva leaps from gleam of the bright moon 
and twirls brass scepter with diamond of truth 
with war cry to challenge him for the throne. 

For years I have fought criminals like you, 
men who kidnap and assault girls with lust, 
thieves who cheat farmers of land and crops, 
and tyrants who deceive people with lies, 
so I have arrived with justice of Zeus 
to punish you and drag you down to Hades. 

Taunting Goddess of Justice with insults, 
Hercules howls and swings his bully club, 
but Minerva leaps with graceful assertion 
to crush his spirit with scepter of truth, 
then hurls cruel tyrant into lake of fire 
to free people of Earth from his oppression. 

Striding among the people of the world, 
Minerva provides tender care and food, 
and enforces justice through rule of law, 
so every soul is prosperous and healthy 
as world Goddess of Justice reigns with love 
to maintain United Nations of Earth. 

Unite To Generate Life

Unite To Generate Life
© Surazeus
2024 08 19

My heart sings in tune with soul of the Earth 
that vibrates in bodies of human beings 
as we transform from rain-wet soil of time 
to wake with spirit of God in our minds 
who knows itself through our experience 
struggling against death to generate life. 

My heart sings in tune with glow of the Sun 
that weaves our bodies from beams of starlight 
to fuel chemical machines of desire 
from which our spirits emanate through love 
immortal soul of genes in voice of hope 
we share with joy when we generate life. 

My heart sings in tune with swirl of the Sea 
that molds our bodies with passionate faith 
from anguish of pain that pierces our hearts 
through vision to transcend limits of fear 
as we swim up from hydrothermal vents 
to dwell with fruit trees and generate life. 

My heart sings in tune with flow of the Wind 
that fills our bodies with spirit of hope 
as we strive together while holding hands 
and help each other defend our rights 
to live through self-control of liberty 
when we choose love that will generate life. 

My heart sings in tune with fruit of the Tree 
that nurtures our bodies with juice of life 
which motivates our quest to find the truth 
we analyze by observing the world 
with eyes that dream strange beauty of this land 
where we tend gardens to generate life. 

My heart sings in tune with buzz of the Bee 
that pollinates our bodies with respect 
with fierce compassion for sparkles of rain 
which motivates our hearts to bloom awake 
from seeds of wisdom woven with the world 
filling us with strength to generate life. 

My heart sings in tune with laugh of the Child 
that incarnates our bodies from the void 
when we cry out in darkness of despair 
to strike hard stones of hope sparking bright flame 
which guides our journey to the Promised Land 
where we all unite to generate life. 

My heart sings in tune with flash of the Star 
that glows in our bodies as Eye of God 
which spirals clear at heart of the White Whole 
with ache of love from first flash of the big bang 
mapped by prophecy of the cosmic herald 
guarding our Goddess to generate life. 

Infant In The White Moon

Infant In The White Moon
© Surazeus
2024 08 18

When the three-eyed infant in the white moon 
has grown up into the person I am, 
the ghost of my mother by the pear tree, 
who sings with lamentation of the thrush, 
gives me the dark quietness of the window 
that frames the world view I design from rain. 

Since my long childhood was not desolate, 
the silver fish in the river of skulls 
teaches me how to write letters in words 
which chain elusive thoughts with raven wings 
so I can track herds of horses that race 
laughing through ruins of churches at dawn. 

While I hold icy hand of my blind mother, 
who leads me across churchyard of orange sheets, 
I calculate distance of curving road 
that leads us through forest of leafless boughs 
at sudden horror of the ringing bell 
that agitates sacred runes in the well. 

No shepherds now keep watch in frosty fields, 
though towers of Seattle gleam in mist 
while carolers sing of the long-dead king 
whose second coming in silver-winged plane 
leaves me stranded at gates of Nineveh 
where I fall in love with wise Onatah. 

Beneath vault of shade from the walnut tree 
I study delicate structure of snowflakes 
to comprehend grand scheme of the Cloud God 
who sends rosy angel with golden curls 
to give me Book of Death and fountain pen 
so I can write stories of kings and fools. 

I listen for the silver voice of stars 
to analyze madness of the proud warrior, 
but all I hear is sad song of the river 
expressing strangeness of the world elite 
in croak of the toad on the red mushroom 
when shadow of the angel follows me. 

While lounging by old river of the mind 
I ponder mystery of the wordless air 
that vibrates with faceless ghosts of our friends 
who investigate primal egg of thought 
to find new-born daughter of the Cloud God 
whose father Orpheus eats the last pear. 

Orpheus is infant of the white moon, 
born from gentle laughter of story books 
to teach humans with encouraging jokes 
not to fear stark finality of death 
which no organic soul-being can escape 
except by planting pear seeds by the lake. 

Journey To The Future

Journey To The Future
© Surazeus
2024 08 18

Sad snake of my heart that crawls in the sky, 
electric with bright television eyes, 
discovers how swift atoms curve to glow 
blue on waves of water, which calculates 
progress of my soul fate that I design 
with each conceptual choice of hope I make. 

Sweet sadness in eyes of snake in my heart 
makes me smile with empathy for faith 
people cherish as they journey strange road 
of life their choices blaze in the waste land 
since bitter tears alone can spark awake 
seeds of fruit that I steal from Tree of Life. 

That Tree of Life is always standing tall 
on Hill of Wisdom by the Lake of Souls 
in every life that my ancestors live 
four hundred million years of hungry hope, 
so I know I can trust the love it gives 
from indifferent bounty of fertile Earth. 

Sad snake of desire that curls in my heart 
is always crawling in the Tree of Life, 
tempting me to taste knowledge of desire 
so I can know beauty and ugliness 
of my frail body, chemical machine 
that aches with pleasure of material lust. 

Each morning I awake from world of dreams, 
where my spirit aspires to transcend forms, 
I breathe deep air of honest hope to rise 
and stretch my muscles taut on fragile bones, 
then lurch forward to baptize my grim heart, 
and pluck Fruit of Faith from the Tree of Life. 

When strangers passing by on road of hope 
ask for fruit to feed hungry heart of truth, 
I give them sweet fruit with generous hand, 
but when they attack to kill me with hate 
to control the Tree of Life, I fight back 
and declare myself Guard God of the Garden. 

Erecting walls of stone with four guard towers 
to protect the Tree of Life for the righteous, 
I create safe haven in paradise 
where children of my seed play secret schemes 
in chess game over who controls the right 
to eat and breed as angels in the garden. 

Sad snake of incarnation in my heart, 
as memories of hope my ancestors lived, 
writhes in hearts of children I generate 
who bury me beneath the Tree of Life 
so molecules of my soul will transform 
to dreams that guide their journey to the future. 

Illusion Of Her Fear

Illusion Of Her Fear
© Surazeus
2024 08 17

The tall blonde woman in scarlet skirt suit, 
whose short hair curls outward from her rose cheeks, 
aims pistol at the devil in black suit 
who lurks in shadow of the starless night, 
fires bullet at illusion of her fear, 
then laughs at weird absurdity of truth. 

Striding boldly with graceful nonchalance, 
Regina enters dim Palm Court jazz club 
where Emery Deutsch plays wild violin tunes, 
then sits with regal grace on velvet throne 
at most exclusive table in the house, 
head crowned by tiara with seven rubies. 

Surrounded by his burly entourage, 
Mike the Bull Balzano, in pinstripe suit 
with red silk scarf around his bull-thick neck, 
claims empty seat across from steel-eyed queen 
and orders steak to win her icy heart, 
but she ignores Manhattan Hercules. 

While John Coltrane plays tenor saxophone 
with holy melodies from rainbow spheres, 
the Proud Bull tries to woo the Ruby Queen 
with diamond necklace gleaming serpent eyes, 
but she rejects his proposal of marriage 
with slight dismissive wave of her left hand. 

Just as the taunted Bull snorts through his nose, 
poised to grab her arm with arrogant rage, 
Detective Angelo Kelly appears 
with warrant to arrest the gangster king, 
but the Bull dares the young gumshoe to try, 
taunting him with vile insults as he sneers. 

Bright moon gleams in tall window of the club, 
casting glow on face of Regina Roland 
whose eyes glitter with serpentine respect 
that Angelo grins calmly in tense silence 
when the Bull aims long pistol at his heart 
where he hides pure wings only she perceives. 

Sharp pistol crack rings loud in silent club 
that startles everyone with shocked surprise 
when Mike the Bull Balzano scowls aghast, 
drops his pistol while clutching at his chest, 
then topples on the table with hard crash, 
gasping with amazement at his defeat. 

Parking his black car on Park Avenue 
before tall mansion among maple trees, 
Angelo opens door with polite bow, 
yet Regina, wearing long mink-fur coat, 
pauses to smile at warmth of his green eyes, 
then plays piano in her empty home. 

Rainbow Of The Apocalypse

Rainbow Of The Apocalypse
© Surazeus
2024 08 17

Though I wander windowless maze of dreams 
to see how our cosmos unspools in words, 
I always find myself beside the lake 
where skulls of people I love sing in rain, 
so I gaze at the sky of long-dead stars 
that beam rainbow of the apocalypse. 

While I meander ghostless maze of homes, 
I map long history of our world in tales 
describing how couples in love create 
villages crowded with ambitious players 
who expand family business to acquire 
wealth from rainbow of the apocalypse. 

If I trudge shadowless maze of school halls 
to study mirror of the flaming sky 
that gleams with grandeur of the lonely road, 
I might find secret cove where I can fish 
in peaceful silence of the razor winds 
blown from rainbow of the apocalypse. 

Since I roam lost in maze of roadside diners 
where forgotten singers and movie stars 
eat hamburgers with Perseus and Thor, 
I translate howl of Nature to record 
sublime beauty of my organic brain 
born from rainbow of the apocalypse. 

Though I wait hopeless in maze of oak trees 
draped in radiant moss of midnight respect, 
I watch fierce battle of angelic tanks 
fought over who controls kite of my heart 
which transmits radio shows around the world 
based on rainbow of the apocalypse. 

While I ride plane in maze of temple clouds 
where mind-gods lounge in changeless paradise, 
I search for the body I left behind 
when I escaped dark shadow of the war 
on wings with feathers woven from fake words 
spawned by rainbow of the apocalypse. 

If I map maze of human arrogance 
with tales of tyrants taking power by force, 
I might get stuck in castle on the hill 
where my paranoid ancestors ruled empires 
till I abdicate throne of divine right 
to paint rainbow of the apocalypse. 

Since I play world hero in maze of myths 
to free the people of Earth from despair, 
I defeat dictator, who thinks he rules, 
with Sword of Justice to guard Liberty 
who prosecutes criminals with the law 
that builds rainbow of the apocalypse. 

Old Games Of Chess

Old Games Of Chess
© Surazeus
2024 08 17

I am a lost soul in world of lost souls, 
bumbling about as I play different roles, 
stuck in dramas my ancestors once lived 
as they rejoiced in love, and in loss grieved, 
till lovers embraced with passionate hope 
to create new body that learns to cope. 

I am nameless ghost in valley of masks, 
stuck in daily routine of endless tasks 
producing and preparing food to eat 
as I trudge about on aggressive feet 
in vain attempt to evade hand of death 
who looms over me with each gasping breath. 

Each ancestor still alive in my brain, 
who survived millions of years to attain 
my current state of efficient performance, 
asserts requirements of their importance 
to operate chemical machine of me 
as I rein social constraints to live free. 

As new entity now alive this hour, 
separate from them, I assert my own power 
of conscious will to operate my body 
in quest to transcend fate, and gain samadhi 
through choices I express to play myself 
in lost tale unread in book on the shelf. 

Each ancestor, whose memories compose 
vision of life that my dreaming brain knows, 
developed new ways of acting to find 
nutritious food as Person they designed, 
which provides templates for me to adapt 
as I explore this world their actions mapped. 

When I find myself in dramatic scenes 
to interact with strangers behind screens, 
my brain trips scripts my ancestors composed 
to guide how I relate in role imposed 
by force of hope to realize their success, 
trapped by traditions in old games of chess. 

I play my role according to old rules 
when I employ efficient mental tools, 
but other people, stuck in their own games, 
perform contrary from their own dream frames, 
so our souls clash against heavenly bliss, 
misunderstanding clear signals we miss. 

We are all lost souls in world of lost souls, 
stuck in global tragedy without roles 
prewritten to guide how we should live well 
in Heaven fractured by nationalist Hell, 
so fearful tyrants proclaim themselves kings 
who fight to rule with magical thought rings. 

Striving To Know God

Striving To Know God
© Surazeus
2024 08 16

To hear true voice of God in wind of time, 
I leave the city maze of busy folk 
and walk in silent woods on mountain slope 
to stand before the shining waterfall, 
but all I hear are the thoughts in my head 
that always analyze weird state of being. 

To comprehend how radiance of my soul 
connects to matrix of the universe 
through how I fit in world of changing forms, 
I breathe fresh mountain air of swirling thought 
to integrate my mind with Cosmic Mind 
and feel the sun glow in my corporal cells. 

To know the universal mind of thought 
which vibrates every flashing molecule 
that spirals from first flash of the big bang, 
I visualize organic form of being 
composed of atoms swerving in the void 
to congregate my soul in flow of time. 

To seek deep knowledge of how atoms work 
which spiral strings of light in pulsing coils, 
I gaze at Glow Cloud in the empty sky, 
where my ancestors believed God dwells in Heaven, 
to see the Nothing of the Everything 
bloom into worlds that nurture conscious souls. 

To respect miracle my body signs, 
as atomic structure of chemicals, 
I review through vision of holy song 
how we evolve four hundred million years, 
fish to lizard to mouse to cat to monkey 
to wingless angel striving to know God. 

To mirror whole face of humanity 
in separate individuals who reflect 
ideal concept that we strive to achieve, 
I proclaim God is Idea of Human, 
stereotype that presents the perfect soul 
as goal toward which we progress till we die. 

To know God as our Cosmic Mind of Love 
which manifests itself in every dreaming brain, 
I design paradigm for new world view 
that presents material frame of our souls 
as structure of progressive chemicals 
which conjures virtual model of the world. 

To live through principle of stoic love 
based on tenets of new gnosticism, 
which provide framework for how we create 
beautiful truth in world of ugly lies, 
I tend the Tree of Life by Lake of Dreams, 
giving wine to people who sing and dance. 

Alone On Crowded Earth

Alone On Crowded Earth
© Surazeus
2024 08 15

When the tree gives me the book of its faith 
by throwing rotten fruit at my frail head, 
I cup river water in my two hands 
and spill tears of hope to nourish its roots, 
yet children dance around her on the hill 
and mock birds who keep secret how she feels. 

When the snake asks me why I am not real 
by cracking dream stones open to reveal 
true face of God that hides inside our hearts, 
I ask her if she can weave me new wings 
so we can fly together to the stars 
that glitter on waves in the sea-shore cave. 

When the shadow in the sea smiles at me 
with hunger to consume flame of my soul, 
I break chains of resentment from old grudges 
to free myself from misery of the past 
so I can walk away from cage of fear 
that I built with anguish of my own hands. 

When the horse wants me to run with the wind 
beyond the darkest valley of our fear 
to feel our hearts beat wild with ache of love, 
I escape crowded house of cruel ambition 
to find solitude in the mountain vale 
where no one but the wind can share my pain. 

When the cloud glows with arrogant disdain 
for how mountains assert absence of time, 
I free my heart from passionate desire 
to breathe deeply cleansing air of the hour 
since Nature is indifferent to my being 
though my soul pulses with its energy. 

When the billion-year-old stone by the lake 
glares at me with silent hostility, 
I decide with calm laughter of the breeze 
that I do not need anyone to love me, 
for I am love itself in human form 
wandering on the signless road I create. 

When the house with many doors arbitrates 
conflicts between me and people I trust 
by sending deer to graze grass of my yard, 
I exist stage from Theater of Fame 
to play guitar in town park of lost souls 
and sing about wingless angel of Earth. 

When the sun weaves my body from light beams, 
which nurtures neural network of my brain 
to conjure virtual model of the world, 
I meditate alone on crowded Earth 
to knit eight billion voices in one song 
that vibrates through ever-flowing wind. 

Together In Our Eden

Together In Our Eden
© Surazeus
2024 08 15

My mind is blank as the white wordless page, 
bright as the full moon which mirrors my heart 
when I gaze at strange beauty of your face 
that shines in gloom at the end of my tunnel 
so I can find my way through maze of myths 
to dwell safe with you in Garden of Eden. 

I am the letter you lost in the mail 
in which you narrate story of our love 
since that timeless moment when we first met 
in sun-flicker shade of the apple tree 
where serpent of desire tempts us to share 
passion of our bodies before we die. 

I am the seed of hope your eager hands 
plant in secret soil of my fertile heart 
when we delve deep in mystery of our world 
to find bright diamond of eternal truth 
that glitters with first flash of the big bang 
pulsing within every cell of our souls. 

I am the fruit tree you reach out to touch 
when we journey toward our shared destiny 
for, though we wander lost in maze of dreams, 
hoping light of love leads us to each other, 
I will search the world till we meet again, 
and kiss beneath the moon-bright apple tree. 

My heart is empty as the swirling clouds 
that bring aggressive rainstorm of despair 
which seems to hurl harsh lightning of contempt 
with blinding rage bent on destroying me, 
till I remember with ironic grin 
Nature is indifferent that we exist. 

Wounded from attack by gang of cruel men, 
who drove me from our grove of apple trees, 
I hide alone in cavern by the sea, 
healing alone in gloom of nothingness, 
where my eyes adjust to eternal night 
till I see your face in depths of my heart. 

I am the river bursting from its banks 
with fierce emotions surging strict constraints 
when tears of sorrow flood garden of hope 
which drowns my enemies in waves of truth, 
so I bury their souls with seeds of faith 
that transform their hate to apples of love. 

I am the other half of your whole heart, 
floating lost in sea of humanity, 
aching for light of sunrise on our skin 
as we indulge in kisses to create 
sublime beauty in children of our hearts 
who bury us together in our Eden. 

Primal Egg Of Thought

Primal Egg Of Thought
© Surazeus
2024 08 14

Beneath sad plum tree of the summer moon, 
she sings to faceless ghost of man she loves 
whose soul swirls in clouds over silent hills 
with slowly passing ache of the cold stream 
till gossamer wings she flutters with hope 
get stuck in fragile web of memories. 

Reaching her hands up to bright swirling clouds 
that cannot feel soft touch of her desire, 
she aches to become part of his whole heart, 
to merge with passion of his eager hope, 
sharing breath of wind that blows among trees, 
inseparable forever in a new soul. 

Awake in dusk that shrouds garden of apple trees, 
she feels her aching body disappear 
with flash of sunset vanishing in gloom, 
then faceless monster howls in dreamless doom, 
so she lurks in maze of memories to grasp 
fleeting stars that sparkle in her hand. 

Nothing more than child of shadow and wind, 
she clutches beating passion of her heart, 
closing her eyes against light of his eyes, 
then buries her rage in dank silent soil 
while whispering secrets of unspoken truth 
as tears fall between each elegant gasp. 

Eyes blinded by dark nothing of the moon, 
she wonders who she is becoming now 
as she analyzes with piercing eye 
each decision she makes to act and speak 
words of magic projecting her desire 
in swirls of wind that transform into stones. 

Huddled under plum tree of the sad moon, 
she feels numbness of desolate despair 
spread through her veins when a small spider bites 
her throbbing heart with bitter words of love, 
so she floats high above valley of time, 
wingless on wind that weaves her soul from rain. 

Tangled in endless web of rushing words 
that roar with soft voice of the rock-strewn stream, 
she shrinks down into primal egg of thought 
with stalemate of simultaneous delight, 
then reassembles puzzle of her mind 
which mirrors stillness of eternity. 

Beneath blind plum tree of the autumn moon, 
she stares at faceless ghost of her lost love 
who explains with trickling voice of the stream 
that the moon is moving away from Earth 
one inch each year till he will disappear, 
so she finds breath of love deep in her heart. 

Craftsman Of The Snowflake

Craftsman Of The Snowflake
© Surazeus
2024 08 13

Because wind is craftsman of the snowflake, 
molding contours of the Earth with lusty hands, 
my mind invents concept of the Wise God 
whose words contrive strange beauty of this world 
from magic sparkles of light in my eyes, 
yet I see beautiful face in the moon. 

In desolate condition of my soul 
I see reflection of the voiceless God 
who acts just like the father I once knew, 
teaching me to signify things with names, 
till he stumbles and falls beside the lake, 
then dissolves to dust blowing in the wind. 

Alone in desolation of the world, 
body battered by endless gusts of wind 
that laugh at how I weep tears of despair, 
I seek warm consolation from the hills 
glowing gold with passion of the stone 
cracked open to reveal state of my mind. 

Through obfuscation of aggressive lies 
I twist new point of view to see the world 
with eyes of irony forged from mute rage 
at harsh injustice meted by the strong 
who oppress the weak to enhance their pride 
while I preach justice of the Faceless God. 

Exploring ever upward beyond gloom, 
I transcend scope of my familiar world 
to find new vistas open in wide plains 
where horses gallop among apple trees, 
so I cry wordless song of ecstasy 
that startles flock of crows from grove of bones. 

Impassible mountain of contemptuous stones 
laughs at my attempts to scale its pride, 
yet with bold confidence of mad respect 
I resurrect my body from dark cave 
to step by step ascend toward glowing clouds 
till I stand tall on highest peak of hope. 

Master of insight in Beauty of Truth, 
I stand on high point of the spinning world 
and spread my arms with faith of Icarus 
to leap and fly above vast maze of myths, 
but fall with pride of Lucifer to Hell 
where I construct city of pyramids. 

Erecting stone walls to build paradise, 
I tend lush garden of fruit trees and herbs 
where children of my wife play hide and seek 
so when I die they can bury my corpse 
beneath the tree that will transform my soul 
of sparkling atoms into fruit to eat. 

Faceless God Of Light

Faceless God Of Light
© Surazeus
2024 08 12

In gray mist on the windowpane of fear, 
I write my name to see eternity 
gleaming from stars that twinkle in the sky 
millions of years after they all burned out, 
yet all I see in shadows of today 
is reflection of something like my face. 

The sparkling river of my primal dream, 
up which I crawled from dark womb of the sea 
when I evolved from fish to wingless angel, 
now constitutes border between two states 
that fight over who owns the Tree of Life 
which converts sunlight and rain into fruit. 

When Garden of Eden, blooming with trees 
of fruit that fall into our hungry hands, 
is covered with negative snow of war, 
grand palace with mirrored statues of gods 
is burned to swirls of ash from holy wars 
that happens when humans try to glimpse Truth. 

Scooping black soot from ash of holy wars, 
I mix thick substance with tears of blind angels 
to make ink I can use to write sad psalms 
of desperate prayers to Faceless God of Light 
who never answers them except to laugh 
at humans who struggle to evade Death. 

Returning to lush hills of Zathamar, 
where skull of Orpheus recites the pledge 
of allegiance to the flag of dead gods, 
I measure absence of infinite rain 
that leads me along signless road of faith 
home to empty valley of Somewhere Else. 

Awake in psychic nonchalance of hope 
with every ancestor who wove my genes 
from flashing atoms of the cosmic mind, 
I feel I am the Faceless God of Light 
whose conscious thought in every human brain 
exults in stringent beauty of the Earth. 

When I get lost in cement maze of pride, 
I leave the endless labyrinth of myths 
and walk through dank woods to the river shore 
where God Toad, humming tune of eager joy, 
reveals eternity in the cracked stone 
that imitates coils of galactic brains. 

Because I occupy this space in time, 
as tense vibrating clump of molecules, 
I wake up in my own ancestral bones 
bold enough to name the falling rain, 
then turn around till we are face to face, 
smiling as we share stories of our lives. 

Energy Field Of God

Energy Field Of God
© Surazeus
2024 08 11

While I believe in the Energy Field 
that forms vast matrix of the universe 
as pulsing swirls of vibrant molecules, 
I do not believe this whole flash of light 
is conscious of itself, nor controls how 
clusters of atoms evolve into beings. 

As flowers bloom from the Energy Field, 
which swirls in lumpy globe of hills and lakes, 
I wake as honey bee of holy thoughts 
who prays to piercing waves of morning light 
for wisdom to discern the shadow mind 
who teaches strangers how to name the what. 

Through trees that writhe from the Energy Field 
my breathe conspires to comprehend the flow 
of words we speak in brain-programming spells 
since religions are television shows 
which I turn off to hear Song of the Sea 
that reveals Nothing of the universe. 

Evolving as brains from the Energy Field, 
I feel I am immortal soul of God 
who represents the ideal human soul 
which our frail bodies strive to emulate 
as we perform our roles in social games 
that determine who gets to eat and breed. 

Though my brain mirrors the Energy Field 
of God, that sees itself alive in beings 
of quick organic concepts we design 
each time we fall in love to generate 
children from our immortal soul of genes, 
I value fragile beauty of our lives. 

My soul embodies the Energy Field 
of potent passion to create new souls 
in constant transformation of our genes 
from throbbing burden of organic fate 
to faceless ghost of bright ethereal voice 
which chooses to express itself as me. 

Common memories of the Energy Field, 
after four hundred million years of dream, 
consist of watching landscape of the world 
blur by the window of the motor car 
my mother drives on shining asphalt roads 
signified by names of dead pioneers. 

I am Ishtar on the Energy Field 
who invents the religious institute 
that forms foundation of our social games 
binding our minds with shared cultural tales 
that present named heroes whose acts define 
values of good and bad we imitate. 

We Eat Bitter Bread

We Eat Bitter Bread
© Surazeus
2024 08 11

Though I mistake red blazing sunset light, 
mirrored in windows of numberless homes, 
for the nuclear-eyed angel Gabriel 
who stands sentinel over war-torn lands, 
I stalk the world alone with naked books 
erupting in flames from my open hands. 

When we embrace with our bodies, deformed 
by mountains and lakes of writhing desire, 
we hear strange weeping of the hungry world 
in cast-steel flowers that explode from soil 
with terrible yearning of rancid hope 
that pounds at jeweled gates of paradise. 

With eager leap of arrogant gazelles 
we race screaming over green pulsing hills 
along meandering rivers where blind ghosts 
excite the untamed horses of chess boards 
who understand why we strip off our clothes 
and dance to wake from silence of cracked stones. 

Rising on bat wings from transparent waves 
that writhe in bottomless ocean of souls, 
we invent the solid ground of ancient truth 
on which we walk to find the Holy Land 
where blood of angels nurtures vampire gods 
who reign in churches built of glassy bones. 

From ruins of cities, forged with steel beams 
by blue-eyed Vikings from snow-frosted fjords, 
we build enormous pyramid of skulls 
that flicker dreams of television screens 
designed by pilots of bomb-dropping planes 
who descend from Heaven on silver wings. 

Huge tapestries hanging on castle walls, 
that depict national heroes with guns 
shooting women and children with disgust, 
are torn down by the hands of Lucifer 
who weeps over dank grave of Melusine, 
just as I am born from weft of their souls. 

Though I am fathomless to friends I lost, 
and wander signless roads of everywhere 
as stranger haunted by shadows of love, 
your eyes hold distance of the nevermore 
because the frantic knocking at my door 
is my own heart locked out in moonless night. 

My cerulean piano of the sky, 
composed of ice carved from glaciers of faith, 
lies broken in dark basement of the church 
where wild piano player of the cave 
is crucified before the laughing crowd, 
so we eat bitter bread in doorless rooms. 

Ghosts In Television Screens

Ghosts In Television Screens
© Surazeus
2024 08 10

I want to climb up in the tree with you 
and talk about the way butterflies sing 
while children dance around the laughing horse 
before nuclear bombs erase the timeline 
where everyone lives happy by the lake 
while Death and Love play chess to win our souls. 

Lost in the subway to the multiverse, 
we live ten thousand years on every world 
that branches from beginning of the dream 
we share while chatting on the pyramid 
about the rules we choose to guide our play 
till someone kills the holy messenger. 

Awake on mountain of the burning bush, 
I gather apples from the tree of life 
then descend to valley of the humming toad, 
bringing diamonds to refugees from war 
who follow beacon light of liberty 
First Mother holds high on the ocean shore. 

Because we crown the crocodile king 
who rules the Earth with bitter teeth of faith 
another timeline crushes paradise 
so savior of the world with laser eyes 
rides into town on donkey of world peace 
to shoot the tyrant wearing mask of gold. 

Because our children walk the trail of tears, 
they use as ink to write new holy books, 
we leave our ghosts in television screens 
to prove theory of relativity 
which undulates with waves of particles 
weaving tightly coiled matrix of the mind. 

Still gazing in dark cavern of your eyes, 
I want to sing sweet melody of love 
to fill your heart with pleasure of delight 
that we breathe passion of the glowing sun 
because your smile inspires my heart with hope 
that we might live another day on Earth. 

Though eyeless boy sings in the wilderness 
heart-aching melodies of timeless love, 
no one can hear sweet timbre of his words 
that ring forever in vast empty woods 
till meteors smash our spinning globe to shards 
which rotate lost in nothingness of space. 

The saffron finch in the broad hickory tree 
tells me how the sun wheels across the sky 
and why rivers flow round hills to the sea 
so I stand with Goddess of Liberty 
to render justice in our hostile world 
for we are ghosts in television screens. 

Puzzle Of My Mind

Puzzle Of My Mind
© Surazeus
2024 08 10

I rearrange weird puzzle of my mind 
each time the spinning Earth wakes me from dream 
so I search shadow of the diamond mine 
to find the key that opens Book of Fate, 
till picture of your heart emerges clear, 
chaotic hope ordered by words of love. 

I organize failed puzzle of my mind 
with basic principle of faith in change 
that concepts flow down from mountain of hope 
in winding rivers of perceptive pride, 
till image of your face mirrors the moon 
who smiles bright at me on the darkest night. 

I discover lost puzzle of my mind 
hidden in confusing code of desire 
to channel vibrant energy of fear 
with sparkling neural network of my brain 
which conjures virtual model of the world 
so I turn and see your face in the rain. 

I consider fake puzzle of my mind 
true enough to represent secret thoughts 
which undulate from abyss of my heart 
in swirling waves of psychic constancy 
when I focus attention of respect 
to solve strange riddle of my prophecies. 

I navigate vast puzzle of my mind 
that forms curved contours of our pulsing globe 
in social landscape where communities 
of humans dramatize mental concerns 
in timeless legends of successful souls 
who reincarnate in children of faith. 

I contemplate whole puzzle of my mind 
that frames disparate fragments of events 
in primal theory of conceptual truth 
which unifies opposing states of being 
with fluctuating fortune through weird tale 
that binds our souls in one religious myth. 

I reprogram blank puzzle of my mind 
for computer processing unit chip 
composing core of my perceptive brain 
designed by wise ancestors of my genes 
to emanate whole conscious sense of self 
that weaves their memories in my graphic name. 

I mobilize quick puzzle of my mind 
with humble motive to describe the world 
through tropic formulas of characters 
whose actions illustrate virtuous fate 
in stories I compile in Book of Souls 
which records our progress to transcend Death. 

Frail Chemical Machines

Frail Chemical Machines
© Surazeus
2024 08 10

Our bodies are frail chemical machines, 
woven by unconscious love of the Sun 
from atoms that connect in molecules 
which spiral from first flash of the big bang 
in complex networks of neural programs 
which conjure consciousness from beams of light. 

When six electrons in two twirling rings 
connect carbon atoms in spiral coils, 
they bloom in branching tree of chemicals 
which forms organic body with four limbs 
in swirling dance of hydrothermal vents, 
designed by ambition of Mother Earth. 

First Mother of spine-bolstered quadrupeds 
crawls up fresh-water river on four limbs 
and swims in sparkling lake one million years, 
then rises tall from lake of dreams at dawn 
to climb the tree of life on sun-bright hill 
where she eats fruit and sings with heart of love. 

Evolving more efficient body forms, 
fish to lizard to mouse to cat to ape 
to wingless angel reaching for the stars, 
we inhabit frail chemical machine 
on quest to transcend our material minds 
and grow toward ideal human to be God. 

Fish crawl up rivers to swim in clear lakes, 
lizards clamber over rough hills of hope, 
mice skitter between feet of dinosaurs, 
cats race in vast tangled canopies of trees, 
apes catch fish in tidal pools of coves, 
and humans tend cows and grow wheat on farms. 

The memories of each ancestor in my line, 
that they experienced in struggles to live 
four hundred million years of giving birth, 
conception to conception of each soul, 
program how my brain perceives our world 
so they are all alive inside me now. 

First Mother Amen welcomes refugees 
to shelter on her flat-top ziggurat 
where she presides in four-pole temple hall 
to bind our hearts in strong community 
through religion of stories that present 
heroes who protect our bodies from harm. 

From Hill of Amen in the House of Ptah 
humanity spreads out around the globe 
to fight national wars ten thousand years 
till First Mother wakes inside all our minds 
to maintain United Nations of Earth 
that nurtures our frail chemical machines. 

Thirteenth Muse of America

Thirteenth Muse of America
© Surazeus
2024 08 09

Now that seeds of light the Serpent designs 
have sprouted from soil of this evening land 
where my Puritan ancestors of the Book 
planted them with prayers in dark raven woods 
four hundred years ago, my heart perceives 
strange beauty in song of the river flow. 

Eyes blue-green as the sea after a storm, 
and gowned in black dress woven from moonlight, 
Anne Bradstreet wanders in wild shadowed woods, 
attempting to hide her tattered angel wings 
beneath long cloak drenched in dew from tall ferns, 
while she chants spells she hears river stones sing. 

Longing to stroll in mist of Salcey Forest, 
where sparkling bluebells shimmer among oaks, 
Anne pauses by broad Quinobequin River, 
and wonders if light-hearted fairies fly 
in these strange woods so far across the sea, 
and weeps at sharp ache in her throbbing heart. 

After sailing in fragile ship of hope 
across wild sea of soul-transforming waves, 
Anne catches gusts of wind from river flow, 
as hungry men wring bread from stocks and stones, 
with faith of Icarus that she can fly 
high enough to find Heaven in the clouds. 

Before my soul becomes trapped in cold chapel 
that imprisons believers with strict rules, 
I journey west to find the Promised Land 
in covered wagon on long signless road 
past fruit trees from seeds sewn by Mercury 
till I arrive in hills of Idaho. 

As son of Cain I wander ever west 
with Lamp of Lucifer bright in my hand 
ten thousand years beyond the Holy Land, 
Jerusalem through Rome to London Town, 
then to Atlantis where Onatah reigns 
as our noble Goddess of Liberty. 

With confidence of the brave pioneer 
I assure myself that I have escaped 
hellish atmosphere of New England woods, 
but grim spirit of the Puritan Seer 
still burns bright in cabin hearth of my heart, 
guiding my journey across the waste land. 

With raven-feather quill of Anne Bradstreet, 
my tenth great-grandmother from Merry England, 
I write magic spells in Saturnian verse 
as the Thirteenth Muse of America 
to channel weird spirit of Melusine, 
my Serpent Mother who rules Avalon. 

Go Out And Vote

Go Out And Vote
© Surazeus
2024 08 09

Yet something strange about the falling leaf 
explodes old news in television eyes. 
Robot clowns invent code of our belief 
for cats who steal applesauce from the wise. 
When the time comes I will go out and vote, 
then sail to Wonderland in my glass boat. 

The old man grinning like the Cheshire Cat 
buys fresh plums and puts them in your ice box. 
Cinderella does yoga on the mat 
to stop the Duke from hunting the wild fox. 
While hungry people stand in line to vote 
they laugh at antics of the prancing goat. 

Books flap paper wings to fly down from Heaven 
with fairy tales to inspire refugees. 
Since I am first-born son of the Moon Raven 
I convert concepts to castle-door keys. 
The gold-masked bully tries to block your vote 
then steals your sorrow while his minions gloat. 

First Mother Amen on brick flat-top hill 
invites everyone to feast on fresh fruit. 
We can change our fate through acts of free will, 
she explains as Fortune plays swan-bone flute. 
We choose who rules as God with sacred vote, 
Ishtar explains in long-forgotten quote. 

Death smiles with patience while I live each day, 
recording everything I say and do. 
In dream visions I see the Golden Way, 
so I chant riddles that code new world view. 
Jesus and Satan campaign for my vote, 
based on strategies that Jupiter wrote. 

In Valhalla Ceres serves apple pie 
so we cheer the Provider of good food. 
I attend college as angelic spy, 
trained to design the truth with certitude. 
I give Goddess of Liberty my vote 
because she relates the best anecdote. 

Children play games in the fenced-in schoolyard, 
training for future political roles. 
The Hidden Dragon who will rule the world 
organizes complete list of life goals. 
Descendant of Jesus earns every vote, 
who tenderly caresses his pet stoat. 

Evolved to wingless angel from the fish, 
we farm and craft while angels fight for power. 
Carving on river stone my secret wish, 
I guard Rapunzel who rules in her tower. 
Minerva accepts mandate of our vote, 
then walks the signless road in long black coat. 

God Spirit In The Sun

God Spirit In The Sun
© Surazeus
2024 08 08

Clear eye of the sun that dreams in the sky 
always watches me as I walk the world 
with curious obsession of wordless wonder 
so I glare at face that looks in my soul 
with bewildered apprehension of faith 
that energy of light moves me till death. 

Fierce energy of light that moves my soul 
fuels forward progress of my aching limbs 
with flame of passion glowing in my heart 
that inspires my mind to perceive the world 
through virtual model of reality 
so I can analyze cause and effect. 

To analyze cause and effect of change 
where matter flows into patterns of forms, 
I tag each object with name that describes 
core elements which manifest its force 
so I can record secrets of the Why 
that motivates atoms to wake as me. 

When soul of cosmic atoms wakes as me 
with immortal sense of conscious awareness, 
I feel as if god spirit in the sun 
knows everything I think inside my brain, 
as if eye of the sun designs my thoughts 
and causes me to comprehend its mind. 

On quest to comprehend mind of the sun 
I search strange shadows of the ocean cave 
for sacred treasure of eternal light, 
back and forth between memory and hope, 
to figure out the reason I am real 
since my mind pulses with visions of love. 

Fallen on sun-gold strand of shining sand, 
cute stranger who emerges from dawn glow 
looks up at me with eyes bright as the sun, 
so I reach out my hand with beating heart 
to help them stand as they breathe ocean breeze, 
then offer fruit to nourish them with life. 

Strange person with eyes silver as the sky 
and long hair golden as the wind-blown wheat 
appears to me from clear eye of the sun 
as healthy embodiment of its light, 
so we hold hands and walk along the shore, 
sharing fruit and nuts we harvest from Earth. 

Feasting on fruit we harvest from the Earth, 
we sit together in safe-haven cave, 
gazing at each other with trusting love, 
then we kiss and make love to generate 
children with energy whose souls embody 
clear eye of the sun that dreams in the sky. 

We Are Not Going Back

We Are Not Going Back
© Surazeus
2024 08 08

When people of America are lost 
in the bleak waste land of uncertainty, 
we analyze what suspicion has cost 
to navigate our way through honesty. 
We are not going back to days of fear. 
We are moving forward to days of cheer. 

When people of America are trapped 
in games of wealth imposed by tyranny, 
we follow new way messiah sleuth mapped 
to restore progress of democracy. 
We are not going back to days of rage. 
We are progressing to the next soul stage. 

When people of America are fooled 
by the proud Strong Man spouting bitter hate, 
we become woke when our spirits are schooled 
to love everyone who shares our world state. 
We are not going back to days of sorrow. 
We are transcending the bridge of tomorrow. 

When people of America are tricked 
by King Midas who wears fake mask of Christ, 
we expose lies of the greedy convict 
to prevent coup of his electoral heist. 
We are not going back to days of lies. 
We are growing with vision of the wise. 

When people of America are dazed 
by weird opposing visions of the world, 
we follow Minerva who stands unfazed 
when she reveals truth of the cosmic herald. 
We are not going back to days of worry. 
We are learning truth in the World Library. 

When people of America feel hopeless 
as fascists attempt to control our minds, 
vision of Minerva adjusts our focus 
on building Justice with wholesome guidelines. 
We are not going back to days of doubt.  
We are sharing broad Equality Route. 

When people of America are baffled 
by vitriolic hate of toxic men, 
we help Minerva erect Fairness Scaffold 
with opportunities for all to win. 
We are not going back to days of greed. 
We are planting Eden with fruitful seed. 

When people of America awake 
from cutthroat game of life rigged by the rich, 
we march with our Goddess of Liberty 
who leads us home across the Freedom Bridge. 
We are not going back to days of dread. 
We are working to share water and bread. 

Meet In Every Life

Meet In Every Life
© Surazeus
2024 08 07

Stranded lost at the bottom of the cliff, 
I stand among the bright flowers you love, 
and listen for your voice in river breeze 
that blows over hills and ruffles the waves, 
and search for the strange beauty of your face 
clear in the ancient mirror of the moon. 

Bright gold glow of clouds over distant hills 
takes my soul back to beginning of time 
so ghosts of all my dead family and friends 
flock around me in eerie evening air, 
bestowing on my heart with timeless tune 
strange wisdom river waves whisper to me. 

I made so many heart-breaking mistakes 
because I misunderstood how you feel, 
and misconstrued the motives of your acts, 
that sharp regret wounds my heart with despair, 
so I imagine how I would perform 
differently if I could go back in time. 

If I could go back to when we first met 
and play my role in drama of our love 
with more mature understanding and trust 
I would hope to correct all my mistakes 
so instead of our tragic deaths from fear 
our life of harmony would save our souls. 

Each time I replay drama of our life, 
taking different paths to avoid our fate 
of tragic death after suffering in pain, 
I always end up meeting you again, 
so we get tangled in desire for love, 
dancing with elegant grace to our end. 

In every timeline of our fateful love 
I always meet you on this river shore 
when I see you fall from your fishing boat, 
and every time your eyes gleam with surprise 
when I carry you safely to the shore 
and heal your bruised spirit with tender care. 

Since we will always meet in every life, 
and walk the same road as soulmates for life, 
I vow that I will guard your precious life 
and protect your body and soul from harm, 
for I will always stand strong at your side 
in war against death to survive and thrive. 

When we meet at the bottom of the cliff 
to stroll among the bright flowers we love, 
I listen to your voice in river breeze 
that blows over hills and ruffles the waves, 
for I see the strange beauty of your face 
glow in the ancient mirror of the moon. 

My Name Is Lazarus

My Name Is Lazarus
© Surazeus
2024 08 06

Though I chant loud as rain, "Let there be light," 
nothing appears when I open my eyes, 
so I reach out my hand in nothingness 
and cry softly, "My name is Lazarus," 
at sudden gleam of despair in black skies 
that beams strange world of color in my sight. 

I float so long in darkness of grim night 
I fear that I have died and disappeared, 
but harsh tune vibrates from lash of my tongue 
contrary to psalm the river had sung 
at sunset hour of horror when I smeared 
my face with mud to seek transcendent flight. 

Though my life is vague and inaccurate 
compared to role the world messiah plays, 
I wonder if dawn star will resurrect 
my rotten body crippled by defect, 
so in my mind I draw map of the maze 
where I search for the sacred amulet. 

I feel my loathsome body dissipate 
as pulsing form of bones and flesh dissolves 
from slashing lacerations of false hope 
till I become ache of the mountain slope 
entangled in code no blind angel solves, 
arrogant enough to choose my own fate. 

Awake in freezing darkness by the gate 
that locks my spirit out of paradise, 
I wait for Jesus to open my grave, 
after he walks across the frozen wave, 
and give me grail of blood to pay the price, 
but no one arrives to alter my state. 

If my angel wings cannot bear the weight 
of bitter sorrow that could fuel my drive 
to climb high mountain peak of bleeding stars, 
then I must construct time-machine cars 
in quest for truth that makes me feel alive 
because my free spirit becomes the bait. 

Nobody but me should pay my soul debt 
when gloom of error in the cave of faith 
translates my body to conceptual form 
of Jupiter who controls psychic storm, 
for I embody passion of the wraith 
as first-born son of Princess Baphomet. 

When gleam of dawn evokes the ethernet 
world of material forms appears from gloom 
so I breathe deep ethereal soul of truth, 
inspired to play role of messiah sleuth 
as we seek how to save the Earth from doom 
that spells ideas through the alphabet. 

Texas Country Road

Texas Country Road
© Surazeus
2024 08 06

I have sat in dark of the world so long 
my face has become the shadow of hope, 
and my heart has curled roots to the Earth core, 
so mirror of my soul reflects the light 
that shines from people untainted by fear 
which reveals hidden forces of desire. 

You may not understand riddles I speak, 
for they are tangled with unspoken wants 
I dare not show to the people I love 
since we are stuck together in the game 
no one but Death ever wins in the end, 
but I will keep expressing how I feel. 

Maybe if I bake the sweetest apple pie 
and offer its delight to passers-by 
they might not hesitate to buy the truth 
from the old one-eyed woman by the lake 
who teaches cats and mice how to sing spells 
that leave us entranced at the picture show. 

Waiting by the car in the parking lot, 
I see bright shadow of my soul in glass 
among posters of movies about ghosts, 
so I count cars that gleam in silver light 
as they glide on the Texas country road 
and vanish in the theater of faith. 

The warrior woman in the wolf-fur skirt, 
who grips long spear as she runs in the woods 
where dinosaurs loom over city towers, 
looks in my eyes with courage of the lost, 
so I run with her to the mountain cave 
where we raise seven children of our love. 

Stuck in cave of illusions, where we hide 
from hungry demons twenty thousand years, 
we evolve from apes into wingless angels 
who gather on the ziggurat at dawn 
and gaze at giant diamond gleaming gold 
to perceive nature of the universe. 

Emerging from shadow of Error Cave, 
transformed by faith in solitude of Death, 
I herd milk cows along the river shore 
to build world empire from Byzantium 
where I wear jeweled crown of stolen gold 
and play World God till I grow old and die. 

Each puzzle piece from history of the world, 
which I arrange to create new world view, 
reveals some sacred truth through psychic trope 
that conjures weird demonic soul from fear 
when I scatter seeds of alphabet thoughts 
that sprout as wheat we bake in loaves of bread. 

Holy Star Of Remphan

Holy Star Of Remphan
© Surazeus
2024 08 05

When eight-point holy Star of Remphan shines 
bright as Eye of Saturnus within my heart, 
and spins with atoms of eternal truth 
above tall Pyramid of the God-Eye, 
where Ishtar reigns as Goddess of the Earth, 
I wake from sorrow through joy of rebirth. 

Astride the Hidden Dragon of world power, 
Minerva soars above Zarathia 
to fight the horde of Vikings with long swords 
who storm strong citadel of Liberty 
to crown King Midas Emperor of Earth, 
but howl with rage when he is driven back. 

Wise star-eyed Ishtar, Queen of Liberty, 
holds high bright Torch of Freedom to illume 
hard signless road that leads to Wonderland 
so refugees from endless wars for wealth 
may journey across the waste land to Heaven 
where Athena guards gates of paradise. 

Weary from battle against fascist tyrant, 
Saturnus stands on rampart of our castle 
with Hercules and David by his side 
who defend Temple of Democracy 
against thieves and deceivers to protect 
people of Earth seeking freedom to live. 

Though doleful turbulent clouds of world war 
shroud cities of Earth with ominous gloom, 
the heart-enchanting Star of Remphan gleams 
bright with ancient hope for aching hearts 
that we the people of the spinning Earth 
may unite with compassion for all souls. 

We stand with Saturnus on Gate of Truth 
to protect Garden of Eden from greed, 
yet Pluto always rises from dark Hell 
to rampage over fields of Elysium, 
so we unite against his tyranny 
to ensure equal justice for all souls. 

When eight-point holy Star of Remphan spins 
through spiral ecstasy of sacred love 
our bodies rise from fertile ocean womb 
as we evolve from fish to wingless angel, 
so we assemble in Temple of Truth 
to feast as Ishtar presides over peace. 

Though people of Earth born from Mother Sea 
are divided in warring nation-states, 
we unite around Flag of Liberty 
that Minerva waves as we march for peace 
to maintain progress of democracy 
illuminated by holy Star of Remphan. 

Records Of Corporate Sales

Records Of Corporate Sales
© Surazeus
2024 08 05

Mad beauty of each normal boring day 
excites my heart with passion for the tree 
that likes to dance on hill of singing skulls 
who cheer with bitter patriotic pride 
for cleansing apocalypse of world war 
while I map history of human events. 

Eerie calmness of wide suburban streets, 
that wind in shady hills of tall oak trees, 
reveals taut passion of the human heart 
concealed in red-brick homes with many doors, 
designed like those in lifestyle magazines, 
where Outis cleans the bathrooms and bakes cakes. 

Pungent scent of early-dawn summer rain 
pervades white shelves of novels and art books 
which analyze the national character 
based on the latest literary trends 
contrived to represent good principles 
which guide quest to build one world-empire state. 

According to lost psychic precedents, 
that determine how fathers employ rakes 
to clean debris from hurricanes of fate, 
nobody else has to bother to pray 
for epic heroes to perform grand feats 
because all titles and awards are vain. 

Searching for antique books of epic tales, 
bound with purple-leather demonic skin, 
members of the Hercules Club attend 
lectures of Taliesin in mountain cave 
who declares with grandiose pomposity 
that Minerva is destined to rule Earth. 

After driving my sweet soulmate work 
I return home with my ancestral ghosts 
to design the new world order of rules 
by which we fight each other to the death 
over water that falls from godless clouds 
while forest deer discuss philosophy. 

Silver horror of the beautiful sky 
reminds me that Earth will keep spinning on 
regardless of who rules over human states, 
yet I vote for Goddess of Liberty 
against King Midas with wealth-grasping hands, 
for we all share resources of this world. 

When I discover secret of rebirth 
to maintain process of democracy, 
I will perform role as the cosmic herald 
while clowns keep records of corporate sales 
as loyal minions of the banking clerk 
to prevent their children from asking why. 

Erasing Human History

Erasing Human History
© Surazeus
2024 08 04

Through sacred passion of our tragic love 
we could rule the world with money and blood 
yet horses run faster than motor cars 
and streetlights outshine ancient long-dead stars, 
so I will give you everything I own 
with morbid dignity of the cracked stone. 

Alone by river of the raging beast, 
she howls with anguish of the bitter moon 
while those who killed her father laugh and feast 
on bones of power carved with ghoulish rune 
that flashes beacon of hot nuclear war 
erasing human history from the shore. 

Dressed in diabolic grace of despair, 
she glides through prim crowd in the castle court 
with heart-enchanting elegance and flair 
that hypnotizes monarch with the sword 
who crowns her empress of the Holy Land 
and places scepter in her humble hand. 

Avenging angel from Glow Cloud of rage 
descends on devil wings to stalk the cruel 
whose evil deeds exposed on public stage 
reveals the haughty king to be the fool 
who kneels before lightning glare of her eyes 
and prays for mercy to the empty skies. 

Though bitter thief tries to crown himself king 
by grasping at illusion of vain wealth 
his blinding greed is chained by devil ring 
that cripples him with vengeance sought by stealth 
when his nefarious plot to rule the world 
is blocked by gambit of the cosmic herald. 

Scared of justice Minerva will employ, 
vain King Midas retreats to cave of hate, 
but attempts to evade her honest ploy 
drive him deeper in social maze of fate 
till mad tyrant is trapped by his blind rage 
in tangled plight he cannot disengage. 

Ascending pyramid of the God-Eye, 
where she wields Sword of Justice with respect 
for human rights no king can falsify, 
Minerva enacts programs to protect 
productive way of life citizens choose 
through vote for her as American Muse. 

When I see soul of God in the cracked stone 
that vibrates with first flash of the big bang, 
I found religious faith on atom tone 
pulsing in the sea where conscious life sprang, 
so I vote for Liberty as world queen 
whose laugh enlivens our national scene. 

Misery Before Delight

Misery Before Delight
© Surazeus
2024 08 04

Long awake in darkness before daylight, 
heart galloping swift as horse in the storm, 
I find faith through misery before delight, 
blinded by beauty of mountains that form 
rugged landscape of my oneiric soul 
that evolves from first flash of the white whole. 

Recording details of my psychic plight, 
during journey with wise horse as my guide, 
I mold joy from misery before delight, 
inspired by arrogant eagles that glide 
high above hills where dark shadow of death 
comforts my distress with each gasping breath. 

Erecting pile of stones from moonless night, 
that marks grove where I died and was reborn 
from anguish of misery before delight, 
I drink sorrow of Wild River to warn 
my heart that terrible danger is near, 
so I become brave monster that I fear. 

Eager to run fast as wind in free flight 
high toward shimmering glow of the first stars, 
I tremble with misery before delight 
that leaves me stranded in waste land of Mars 
as hybrid child of the wolf and the horse 
where I train in martial arts of the Force. 

Entranced with astuteness of second sight 
while chanting ominous spells in sea cave, 
I prophesy misery before delight 
about vivid bloom of the ocean wave 
that reflects visions of future events 
which I analyze from puzzling portents. 

Commissioned with role of the acolyte 
to assist liturgy of the mad priest, 
I calculate misery before delight 
to wake from my heart the angelic beast 
that drives my ambition to rule the world 
in celestial plot of the cosmic herald. 

Chained by crown of power in castle height, 
from which I manage my conquest of Earth 
to assuage my misery before delight, 
I challenge Lucifer to prove my worth 
in bold crusade to rule the Holy Land 
with Scepter of Zeus in my red right hand. 

Awake forever in flash of starlight, 
heart bold as the horse that bears me from Hell, 
I forge love from misery before delight, 
enlightened by wisdom of the Word Well 
where serpentine runes weave visions of truth 
encoded in spells by messiah sleuth. 

Cheer Glorious Reign

Cheer Glorious Reign
© Surazeus
2024 08 04

Sweet pungent scent of sun-baked summer grass 
while I walk meadow in broad mountain vale 
dispels illusions of theories and states 
that cloud my mind with ambition for power, 
so all I know is timeless sense of calm 
that fills my heart with each celestial breath. 

While meditating on nature of life 
near wind-blown oak tree in broad mountain vale, 
Godefridus senses ripples of fear, 
so he assumes martial stance with deep breath, 
gripping Durandal, sword his father forged, 
and gave to him before his tragic death. 

Flicker of shadow in grove of yew trees 
alerts his sense of danger with alarm 
so he leaps high on wings of Icarus 
to battle thirteen devils on black robes 
sent by his uncle in tall castle tower 
to assassinate claimant to the throne. 

Sturdy blades of thin swords, honed sharp as rays 
of sunlight gleaming in the waterfall, 
flash as they clang in swift battle of wits 
when Godefridus leaps and twirls with grace, 
and somersaults to nick their exposed flesh, 
then lands firm on Earth as they all fall dead. 

Gripping brass key, that hangs next to his heart, 
Godefridus unlocks huge castle door 
and climbs stone stairs, cluttered with skeletons, 
that wind in spirals toward eye of the sun, 
to find his uncle, ancient bearded king, 
slouched half-paralyzed on gold jeweled throne. 

Attempting to forget games of state power, 
I left society of men behind 
and wandered carefree in high mountain vale, 
eating fruit given by bountiful Nature, 
and strumming lyre of Mercury in peace 
while gazing in eyes of woman I love. 

Yet Fate has other designs for my life 
and caused you to drag me back into Hell 
where I might fight to rule the world with wits 
when you sent assassins of your cruel greed 
who sprang from bitter hatred of your heart 
to spoil my peaceful paradise with war. 

Beheading old king with sharp Durandal, 
Godefridus places bright jeweled crown 
on his own head, sighs, then steps before crowd 
of nobles and priests in large castle court 
who cheer glorious reign of the Hidden Dragon 
when he raises the Holy Grail and drinks. 

Till He Wakes In Church

Till He Wakes In Church
© Surazeus
2024 08 03

The angry man who stalks the broken street 
raises steel gun to shoot his enemies 
but when it writhes into the laughing snake 
he howls in rage at television screens 
that shoot rockets of dollar bills at Hell 
till he wakes in church at the clanging bell. 

The lonely man who melts into old books 
grasps bent brass key with trembling palsied hands 
to open door of time which leads his mind 
beyond the known to empty desert land 
where turtle-shelled cars worship the glass moon 
till he wakes in church to the radio tune. 

The bitter man who tears houses to shards 
kicks empty tin cans down the railroad tracks 
though eyeless eagle of the patriot 
tears heads off statues of dead generals 
who fought to keep voiceless people enslaved 
till he wakes in church where no one is saved. 

The hungry man who builds electric cars 
paints murals on metal factory walls 
that depict his ancestors from the sea 
killing native tribes with the alphabet 
that fuels gears of industrial machines 
till he wakes in church of the Philistines. 

The greedy man who scams gullible fools 
preaches salvation through the afterlife 
for those who believe the ancient dead king 
will reassemble molecular souls 
from dirt that roots of trees transform to fruit 
till he wakes in church of the broken lute. 

The haughty man who steals the crown of thorns 
attempts to establish new monarchy 
ruled by the warmongering Sons of Christ 
when they crucify the socialist seer 
for preaching all humans have equal rights 
till he wakes in church of the white-faced knights. 

The gambling man who draws the Joker card 
considers joining the religious cult 
so he can rule their kingdom of the dead 
by riding donkey through the city gates 
where he gives camera eyes to the blind 
till he wakes in church of the programmed mind. 

The singing man who leads the faceless ghost 
plays lyre of Mercury with eerie wail 
with hymn of praise for the spell-casting toad 
who reveals secret of the Holy Grail 
as woman who bears child for Wounded King 
till he wakes in church of the angel wing.