Frame Of What Is Real

Frame Of What Is Real
© Surazeus
2025 05 18

Each scene of unresolved false memory 
that flashes blurred across his fuzzy mind, 
as Seth floats through the quiet afternoon 
in peaceful sadness of eternity, 
sparks dull anxiety of numb despair 
that makes him chuckle when he snaps awake. 

Nobody cares about my memories, 
Seth mumbles to the finch on the back porch 
that hops along the rail of eager hope, 
then drinks cold faucet water of concern 
in small home nestled in the grove of oaks 
along suburban street lined with dead cars. 

Submerged in half-dream of the afternoon, 
Seth rides the horse across the windy plain 
to catch the shadow of objective fear 
embodied by the man with doorless key 
whose laughter twists the oak tree into rope 
that dangles from the beam of unjust law. 

Haunted by faceless god his father feared, 
Seth walks quickly past every empty church 
because he knows the doors are locked all week, 
then browses fiction section of bookstores 
to read short summaries of unreal plots 
about men numb with angst of modern life. 

The plush green couch in middle of his house 
floats just above the ground of principles 
in shy defiance of grim gravity 
each time his brain designs new alien world, 
completely different from the state of Earth, 
where he is the brave angel who can fly. 

When Seth decides to fish on lake of dreams, 
where he casts line into abyss of fate 
to catch the Loch Ness Monster of his heart 
who knocks him off balance from his wood boat, 
he falls nine days and nights in wingless flight 
to hum half-awake on his floating couch. 

Through sudden field of shocking certainty 
Seth runs through thunderstorm of laughing gods 
to find the girl he loves beside the lake 
who kisses him in drenching rain of time 
till she reminds him of her secret name 
which reconstitutes frame of what is real. 

Shouting at the empty sky of false faith, 
Seth asks divine zookeeper of the Earth 
if he can perform with elastic grace 
roles of both therapist and referee 
as pope who rules empire of fairy tales, 
then stares out the window as evening falls.