Instruments Of Dream Sense © Surazeus 2025 12 20 Wandering lonely as the gloomy rain cloud that looms hungry over your city maze, I want to play instruments of dream sense to conjure visions of the Beautiful from endless misery of our daily lives as we struggle to maintain global peace. Wearing crown of ice molded from your tears that drown our cities in false memories, I want to play instruments of dream sense with deft fingers of aggressive concern to prove with absolute uncertainty that Death will take us to her Nowhere Land. Wishing to comprehend how spider webs mirror matrix of our star-flashing brains, I want to play instruments of dream sense that vibrate with thunderstorms of god eyes which scatter snowflakes on gray city streets to illustrate beauty of human hearts. Wagering fabulous ethics of mute pain to understand wordless song of wild trees, I want to play instruments of dream sense that praise weird beauty of nature in psalms no matter how boring time seems to be because sunlight always invades my gloom. Waiving my inalienable rights to life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness, I want to play instruments of dream sense that open doors of perception to Hell where Orpheus leads mute souls of the dead so they can sing in the heavenly choir. Waiting forever on the river shore where angels talk on eye-phones of the mind, I want to play instruments of dream sense that sanctify symphonies of mad seers who breathe delicious anguish of desire with each eerie shriek of violin tunes. Wielding Excalibur with gentle grace to render judgement against criminals, I want to play instruments of dream sense that frame extensive legal arguments supporting freedom and justice for all born from the womb of Mother Liberty. Whistling past the graveyard of long-dead gods who call to us with voice of mountain wind, I want to play instruments of dream sense that surrender loneliness to sea waves so when we meet at random on the street we can share feast of winter solstice eve.
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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Saturday, December 20, 2025
Instruments Of Dream Sense
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Orpheus directs choir of not-yet-dead humans who express intense desire of the human heart to savor beauty of this too-brief life on our spinning globe of abandoned homes.
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