Monday, June 2, 2025

Time Machine Of Books

Time Machine Of Books
© Surazeus
2025 06 02

Since the day I arrived on this weird Earth 
I have tripped haphazardly anywhere 
on vast unmapped landscape of erased myths 
recorded in the time machine of books, 
so I have compiled from random events 
coherent narrative of my grand legend. 

In conversation with dead faceless ghosts 
I chat with invisible birds in trees 
whose secret language describes anecdotes 
for psychic revolution of true faith 
encoding social values in folk songs 
based on epistemology of truth. 

Scarecrow of guilt in field of humming wheat 
reaches out to touch frail moth of my heart 
lacerated by sunset of desire 
when bodies of innocent people, killed 
in famines from destructive wars for power, 
bloom into flowers where young children play. 

The whole family in the small mountain town, 
who were all born from river rocks at dawn, 
sit on wood stools in front lawn of their house, 
and sing with pop songs on the radio 
as they shuck corn to find the golden treasure 
in holy seeds from which the world is born. 

I care about every soul in the world, 
amused that none of them care about me, 
because we bloom together in the sun 
from river stones and flower seeds and feathers, 
for each contains scent of eternity 
recorded in the time machine of books. 

The only stories humans ever tell 
depict the sadness of women in love 
for they generate the bodies of children 
designed by hope in alternate dimensions 
who tell each other tales of their survival 
which compose holy scripture of their nations. 

Yet I mistake dread for end of the world 
as tragic romance of every good marriage 
that produces each new world generation 
whose childhood games in schoolyards of despair 
become civil wars societies fight 
between liberals and conservatives. 

Released from prison of the optimist, 
I assemble puzzle of new world view 
from every story any human told 
since our first mother in the apple tree 
expressed frustration in conceptual sounds 
that inspired her daughter to invent language. 



1 comment:

  1. Orpheus strums lyre of Mercury while Ophelia sings Ballad of the First Mother Who Invented Language.

    ReplyDelete