Mirror Maze Of Eyes © Surazeus 2024 09 05 I see the same view of the world each day I wake from tangled forest of the dream, so I name every object I perceive by defining qualities of its form till shadow of the word reflects the thing while I wander in mirror maze of eyes. Carnival echoes of the midnight sun cuts lateral beams of rainbows without names across naked curves of fugitive lands where people, stranded on the signless road, gamble with Death to change their destiny, still fruitless in lightness of passing time. Because the True Way to the Promised Land is never clear on any psychic map, I build cloud-castles from dreams people lose so they almost remember how to breathe despite the filth of hope that poisons hearts of children who play games of war and peace. With each new level of anxiety, that I achieve evolving past my soul, I plan to savor moments of insight my ancestors cherish at hour of death so I can seize strange treasures of the past to fuel my journey home to Avalon. Becoming me I never knew exists with each rebirth from madness of despair, I hold hurtful words people hurl at me in bleeding hands to understand mute pain they hide inside their hearts so I can grow angel wings of forgiveness from their hate. After stopping to think about how time dilates voices of the dead in fake poems, I stroll past open doors to give away names I design that signify my growth to strangers startled by the artifact purporting to be laughing skull of Hamlet. Though she died thirty thousand years ago, the Beauty Queen who gave me Sword of Truth still walks beside me on my sacred quest to find the Holy Grail inside her heart that she employs to weave matrix of souls from protoplast that links our brains with stars. Programming concept of the semaphore with books that burn in Library of Fate, I contemplate weird mystery of the Earth to measure formal idea of each thing with fractured wisdom of divine respect, for we are angels of the cosmic quark.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus proclaims himself to be the new Emperor of American Poetry.
ReplyDelete