Obvious State Of Nothingness

Obvious State Of Nothingness
© Surazeus
2025 12 06

If silence is paper money of hope, 
worth less that words of desire people speak, 
then I will hold illusions in my hands 
and give them to strangers on sun-bright streets 
who leave their wishes hanging in fruit trees 
above the graves of long-unworshipped gods. 

Words I write on blank pages of dream books 
function as linguistic barometers 
that measure emotions of citizens 
who ignore harbingers of social change 
encoded as puzzles in magazines 
that scholars read in libraries at dawn. 

They would be wise to listen with deep care 
of honest attention through active faith 
that requires isolation of the heart 
to spark conceptual wattage of respect 
through search for solace in the doorless room 
far from the crowded church of holy hymns. 

Today I do not record words of pain 
that bomb-mangled children attempt to sing 
while lost in ancient forest of mad birds 
that share secret proverbs of hungry seas 
slashed by startled scimitar of the moon 
which gleams incarnadine in apple brains. 

Each strawberry I dig from crystal snow 
reveals radiant beauty of everywhere 
that mirrors unpublished records of crimes 
committed by people desperate for wealth 
while dancing dizzy on telephone lines 
as they consume ripe apples of the tomb. 

Atonement drawn from fractured stone of faith 
programs instincts of alert cautiousness 
that fuels progressive thrum of thought cadence 
while scanning dark expanse of hammered breath, 
obscured by grim summation of true love 
shared by parents and children without fear. 

Inspired by social duties to exchange 
value for products from fresh rivulets, 
I polish metal wings of patient flight 
when I attend to tales blind ghosts relate, 
though sorrow erupts from sealed heart of love 
which refracts words from immortalized stars. 

Whatever side of history we choose 
in brutal war of state ontologies, 
I maintain stance for global liberty 
based on strict endlessness of social change 
in play nourished by brave naivete 
which we perform in orchard of dead gods.