Our National Ghost © Surazeus 2024 10 28 My heart attuned to our national ghost, I seek romantic beauty of the world in dew-wet pastures of clear sparkling streams, but find men digging mines into the ground to harvest mineral riches of the Earth who build vast maze of cement, steel, and glass. Among bright gems and flowers of lush fields I find skeletons of great warriors who fought to defend our nation from harm, fever-animated zombies of rage unresurrected by sharp dragon teeth, whose voices whisper nothing in the wind. Gang of boys running in dark Raven Wood find jagged cave carved from river-side cliff glowing with flames of attentive force to watch Arthur pull long sword from the stone by gripping its handle with aggressive fist and hammering twisted metal into shape. Since Arthur forged Excalibur from stone that blazed as meteor from the starry realm, warriors fight battles in pastoral meadows where shepherds keep watch under gleaming stars till Icarus flies airplane among the clouds as angels and devils fight over Heaven. Awake in dream as our national ghost, I build vast urban maze of pyramids, transforming mountains from square blocks of stone to castles guarding paradise from thieves, to frames of steel girders plated with glass woven with world wide web of wired computers. We construct on skulls of tyrants and kings our world empire of computing machines to create virtual worlds in video games where warriors fight in fields as shepherds sing about the coming of the global king who discards the crown for democracy. Intense energy of psychotic angst fuels desperate cries for strong messiah king to mold chaotic passion of the tribe in warrior nation fighting enemies to conquer Earth under the red-cross flag that drips with blood of colonized souls. Delusion of ecstatic transformation attunes my heart to our national ghost from men calling for grandiose salvation to shelter farmers from foreign invasion, so I sit alone on the river shore till I hear nothing but song of the Earth.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Monday, October 28, 2024
Our National Ghost
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Orpheus visits National Infantry Museum that celebrates warriors who fought against fascism for democracy of liberty and justice for all.
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