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Monday, August 11, 2025

Where I Play God

Where I Play God
© Surazeus
2025 08 11

While watching people live their daily lives 
in god-eye of the television screen, 
I forget to record their names and deeds 
in Book of Sorrows buried in tree roots 
that nourish Tree of Knowledge with our dreams 
which gleam in raindrops on its twisted limbs. 

I study features of each human face 
that flickers briefly on the dream-time screen 
so I can understand their secret thoughts 
that flash in words across mask of their soul 
though polished facade of arrogant pride 
fragments into sorrow of broken dreams. 

Blank faces of strangers I pass each day 
while walking streets in maze of numbered doors 
reflect unconscious feelings of my heart 
so I see in expressions they display 
secret character I attempt to hide 
because I feel the whole world lurch sideways. 

Thus I am ready to start work again 
designing artificial worlds from dreams 
where puppets of real people in my head 
perform their roles preserved in fairy tales 
where ten thousand incarnations of Phoebus 
compete to wear his golden mask of fame. 

I shall lay my skeleton of moon-glass 
among bright flowers of Elysium 
so bees brew mushroom honey from my blood 
for children of the rainbow to consume 
as they transform into shadows of light 
who gaze at jagged mountains in blue dusk. 

Orpheus strums the lyre of Mercury 
while he explains in twisting waves of verse 
that if we throw the true fortunate man 
into the never-ending stream of fate 
he will emerge with fresh fish in his mouth 
that feed nine billion people stuck on Earth. 

Because too many people judge my book 
based on its cover, which depicts too well 
obsessive nothingness of righteous faith 
that causes me to wander off the trail 
and struggle in the vine-entangled field, 
I fill one basket with all my dream eggs. 

When I blink from tension of the long day 
at fading of my autocratic brain, 
the multiverse of dream-conceptual code 
winks out of existence from nothingness 
till my neural net recreates the world 
where I play god till death erases all. 



1 comment:

  1. Orpheus steals the lyre of Mercury from Lucifer, then retires to run his kingdom in the fields of Elysium where people become puppets in his songs.

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