His Skull Still Sings

His Skull Still Sings
© Surazeus
2024 11 19

When children dancing in the field of skulls 
finish cutting grand poems of ancient bards 
into puzzling fragments of lost world views, 
they go back to where Orpheus began 
singing fairy tales about honest men 
who die to protect their families from harm. 

After huge rose window of shining glass, 
that once depicted life of our World Savior, 
is shattered by whistling bombs of world war, 
children picking fragments of lost world view 
assemble new puzzle of global myth 
where Superman guards Earth from aliens. 

Entangled plots of faceless characters, 
who wander signless roads of nevermore 
in and out of houses in maze of streets, 
confuse young children with false intellect, 
so they play workers of factories and farms 
who fight hungry zombies of laziness. 

Sad antihero of the modern tale, 
investigating crimes of gangster kings, 
seeks not endless fame Achilles desired, 
but works to measure with physical laws 
evidence that exposes the plain truth, 
ensuring justice serves the innocent. 

Higher levels of abstract consciousness 
produce analysis of hidden souls, 
encoded well in metaphors of love, 
to weave weird meaning in tissue of signs 
revealed by contextual frame of desire 
that transforms language into acts of art. 

Where I stand in the middle of nowhere, 
on planet Earth that spins in starless void, 
becomes still center of my universe 
for all its countless galaxies of worlds 
since I wear mask of the Many-Faced God 
to be every person who ever lives. 

Each conscious being who walks the spinning Earth 
tells story of their quest to find the truth 
in voice that joins all others in world choir 
which merges all their special characters 
in global soul they worship as new God 
whose tale contains all their experiences. 

Trapped in context collapse of our world myth, 
we sell books of our tales in market stalls 
about loss of social totality 
to break idols of all great characters 
so we can build one idol for all gods 
which we eat as cookies each holiday. 

When I look up at the moon as I sing 
I see reflection of my mortal face 
as mirror of gigantic shadow soul 
that helps me see truth of the present age 
because light of the future shining clear 
reveals true nature of the human mind. 

Failing to retrieve his true love from death, 
Orpheus sings his heart-breaking grief, 
but, angry at truth that death is the end, 
his audience tears him into countless bards 
who sing in every city round the Earth 
for his skull still sings in Temple of Truth.