Headless Idol Of God © Surazeus 2025 04 07 Oblique intellect of the rose-gold moon reveals the vast distance between our hearts which writhe with revelations of true love to frame this beautiful weird world of ours with shocking sensation of blooming flowers rooted in tales of our lost memories. When colors leer in sunlight of my room, transformed by my fatal imaginings to furtive creatures lurking in dry books, I hide conceptual sprites in wood word box till they sprout gossamer butterfly wings and fly through spiral of eyes from my mouth. Effectual consequence of fertile thought completes excessive meaning long untouched by proper rhetorician strolling home in neatly trimmed rose-garden maze of ghosts to unwind logical clock stuck in trunk of my most graceful willow by the lake. Desiring trivial power to control dreams that motivate hunger of our hope, we build huge marble monuments to truth so bold performers, terror-struck by love, may better calculate which way to go through strict analysis of empty words. Collecting words from caverns of your minds, fragile as eggs from which serpents of faith slither forth through church-cluttered avenues, I breathe oxygen from bright mountain caves when clouds of words congeal in holy books open on tables of unexplained fear. Passion that frames emptiness of the home with shapeless shadow of dire honesty adjusts backward direction time expands for angels still forgotten on the moon to play chess game of arrogant respect though we consider this haven our right. Immense success of meaningless play contains stark signs of intelligible life trapped in symbols everyone wants to buy to hang as paintings on cathedral walls based on hallucination I design which imitates headless idol of God. No more original than falling snow, that purports to final contrariness of false perfection dazzling in its truth, my heart begins with vivid elements of natural light to weave reluctant code which programs how I invent unique fate.
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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Monday, April 7, 2025
Headless Idol Of God
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Orpheus digs up headless idol of God from under the parking lot of the old abandoned car factory that pollutes the river.
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