Green Apple Of My Brain © Surazeus 2024 12 24 Green apple of my brain rots in the dirt, unearned luxury of romantic lust sprouting tendrils of conceptual insight as roots scrounging interior junkyard dreams and branches spiraling up at rainbow fear through twisted conformity of respect. Mutating fetus of ancestral hope flops helpless from moist womb of arrogance to crawl thirsty across bone-jagged beach of blind immortal anguish to sprout wings and glide clumsily on celestial breath till upright on trembling legs I stand god. Ever forward on locomotive limbs through progress of excess ambulance, I seek thick fruit of rancid honesty dripping from tangled limbs of reverence to consume material angst of fierce faith that fuels ambition of my dominance. Seeking to access interior cognition, I squirm through writhing tunnels of regret with intense attention of focused passion to assemble fragments of fractured facts in slow-shifting puzzle of pulsing shapes till I perceive wind-blown tree on the hill. Alone as rain-smooth rock on lush hillcrest, I am new-born soul from womb of the sea, dizzy with breath of inherent conception enclosed within bounds of conscious perception, so I express hum of cosmic vibration to herald ascension of human power. We four-limb creatures who rise from the sea, crawling up rivers to emerge from lakes, swarm vast forests of trees on mountain ranges, howling with laughter as we swing on vines while eating grapes and apples of the sun whose beams of light animate our god-souls. We gather in sea caves of gloomy shelter and dance around the ancient dinosaur, singing to imitate her anguished wail, energized by vision her eyes express of timeless passion dancing in wild waves around tall black monolith of the stars. When Adam and Eve find Garden of Eden by sparkling river in Almaty Mountains, Eve snatches thin neck of the writhing serpent then Adam crushes its head with his heel, so they collect green apples of my brain and sell them in the bustling market town.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus buys green apples from the wild-haired man and woman who laugh and giggle as they prance around with infectious delight.
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