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Sunday, January 18, 2026

Beyond The Promised Land

Beyond The Promised Land
© Surazeus
2026 01 18

Below the hill where fortune waits for me 
rain puddles shimmer in the morning sun, 
so I gaze down in mirror of my mind 
to ponder how human history is based 
on the Mother and Child beneath the tree 
that blooms with holy apples of the sun. 

Iridescent sheen of beautiful hope 
inspires my heart to construct from strong wood 
home of four pillars on firm pyramid 
to shelter bodies of my family 
from harsh conditions of indifferent weather 
so we can thrive in garden of the light. 

Ascension up scale of authority 
to manage domestic scope of insight 
provides elevated view of the world 
composed of wheat fields divided by roads 
that channel water from the lake of dreams 
where farmers cultivate soul sustenance. 

To protect the Mother and Child from harm 
I build safe house on pyramid of skulls, 
then plow fields with solemn strength of cows 
to bake bread from wheat that gleams with sunlight 
which I store in warehouse as the loaf-ward, 
and thus build world food-production machine. 

We cannot return to that Eden state 
as we connect all cities on the globe 
in teeming web of wealth-computing towers 
where we drive swift piston-engine machines 
in endless chess game of productive strife 
ruled over by thieves in gray business suits. 

Still alive after sixty centuries, 
World Pharaoh stands on pyramid of gold 
to rule the Earth as Demon of Desire 
whose faceless mask of great authority 
controls state presidents as puppeteer 
through statue of gold with soft feet of clay. 

Blind singer homeless on the White House lawn 
strums lyre of Mercury with crippled hands 
and sings with crackling voice of radios 
psalms of David and hymns of Orpheus 
to lead lost refugees of civil wars 
on signless road beyond the Promised Land. 

Escaping prison camps of feudal farms, 
ruled by tyrants in castles with gold crowns, 
we sail the wild Atlantic Sea of fear 
to colonize Edenic Promised Land 
where we crucify our messiah sleuth 
on the telephone pole of the waste land. 



1 comment:

  1. Orpheus writes hymns on gold plates that shimmer deep in collapsed cave of illusions for one hundred thousand years as code that programs how humans compete for resources in game of thrones.

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