House Of Every Ghost © Surazeus 2025 03 30 When swirling snowflakes freeze into the house where every human in the world has lived, I approach wavering illusion of hope to observe drama of their lives play out in ghostly shadows of wordless desire, but cannot open the doors of their graves. Easy laughter rattles windows of time with unearned urgency of unkempt class that scatters puzzle pieces on wood floors to clutter stage of graceful tragedy since cracks that let the light of hope get in cannot conceal meaninglessness of life. Writing names of ghosts on new-blooming leaves, I whisper secret cipher that conceals stories of their lives in weird archetypes so Death can never find them in the room where they arrange photos of memories in graphic novels that sprout raven wings. Though I walk the signless road of everywhere ten thousand years from sea to shining sea, I never see another ghost like me with eyes that depict islands in the sea where every ancestor who wove my genes walks forever on beach of singing waves. I ponder how with branches of fruit trees I might encrypt conceptual memories in cosmic archetypes of normal things through sacred letters of the alphabet that writhe across snow with serpentine grace reserved for scientific formulas. Footprints of ghosts in ever-falling snow lead me to giant hall of steel and glass, far grander than Valhalla of my heart, where twenty thousand hungry troubadours sell each other books of their prophecies that hint at sorrow of domestic scenes. Assembled in hall of fairy-tale books that record enchanting tales of romance, ghosts of prophets, singers, and troubadours tag themselves with badge of diversity based on inclusion that binds random souls through staged dramas of social equity. True history that records human events transforms into mythical fairy tales etched in blue ice on windows of the house where ghosts of all the souls who ever live gather to read each other poetry that swirl as snowflakes through eternity.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
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Sunday, March 30, 2025
House Of Every Ghost
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Orpheus walks around the house of every ghost to find the door that opens secret of the universe.
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