Leave Bones Of My Mother

Leave Bones Of My Mother
© Surazeus
2026 06 01

If I consider how orange sunset glow 
explodes as flowers in my pulsing brain, 
I might fall in love with your timeless eyes 
that understand strange beauty of this world 
and value unseen essence of its vibes, 
yet I do not exist in pageless books. 

While I wander nowhere in flaming woods 
I gather words people lose from their tongues 
when they escape catastrophe of time 
since angels deconstruct their precious worlds 
because we are no longer real as stones 
smoothed by the endless flow of bitter tears. 

I leave bones of my mother in the land 
where I was born from sparkle of dawn rain 
when I flee alone on the signless road 
with nothing in my hands but sticky dirt 
I scattered on her body without prayers 
because she no longer exists as light. 

My mind is nothing more than passing cloud 
that haunts my nothingness of urgent hope 
with mutant shadow of the eyeless sun, 
so I continue walking somewhere else 
as I pretend to live with wounded heart 
to prove I am not real as words in books. 

Trees offer bounty of indifferent care, 
so I take gift of wisdom from their limbs, 
then sit by laughing river of respect 
where I consume sweet fruit of bitter hate 
to taste revenge I cannot execute 
because I disappear in wordless fate. 

Discarded scraps of precious memories 
fall from my hands and clatter on the ground, 
which fractures sheen of safety I once felt 
so I am zero that time calculates 
through fraudulent formula of desire 
which deflects force of psychic energy. 

Another soul that dissipates in wind 
accelerates new count of circumstance 
my brain attempts with weird seraphic code 
of faith that helps decipher manic spell 
to readjust projection we assert 
though misdirection of the ocean wind. 

With sticks and stones that bruise my naive heart 
I build enormous palace of state power 
enclosing garden of the apple tree 
to guard my secret family from harm 
who waits for me to kill the snake of lies 
because we do not exist in your mind. 

Each Time I Lose Myself

Each Time I Lose Myself
© Surazeus
2026 06 01

I find myself each time I lose myself 
so I run across the waste land of the heart 
and leap abyss of nothingness to soar 
laughing at the crystal moon of faith 
which vanishes to mist as I approach 
so I fall back into my throbbing head. 

I find myself each time I lose myself 
so I dance laughing on the sands of time 
with one hand waving free to grasp the wind 
and scatter seeds of flowers so they sprout 
as rainbow angels wearing human masks 
who dive for memories in sea of dreams. 

I find myself each time I lose myself 
so I stand blindly on cliff of despair 
to map the ancient streets of Neverland 
where faceless children search for Kingdom Come 
that slips away in cold of morning dawn 
at flap of angel wings above my tomb. 

I find myself each time I lose myself 
so I strum Lyre of Mercury with sass 
to chant psychotic spell of eyeless clouds 
that beam elusive riddle of the mind 
when I chase shadow of the ragged clown 
who wants to preach salvation without faith. 

I find myself each time I lose myself 
so I explore fog-swirling ruins of time 
where zombies gather in the Church of Glass 
to worship Vampire King with Crown of Thorns 
who drinks Blood of the Lamb in Holy Grail 
to resurrect our characters from books. 

I find myself each time I lose myself 
so I drive piston-engine time machine 
on winding mountain Road of Honesty 
to find Cave of Illusions in the Alps 
where God-Eye Diamond of my divine heart 
beams first flash that flares forth from the big bang. 

I find myself each time I lose myself 
so I write epic of philosophers 
depicting heroes who quest for the truth 
when they perform in circus of the mind 
amazing acrobatics with weird words 
that formulate atomic principles. 

I find myself each time I lose myself 
so I decide to run for president 
to rebuild institutions through respect, 
constructing from ruins of America 
state of equal rights as Zarathia 
where everyone eats from the Tree of Life. 

Seven Sons Of Jupiter

Seven Sons Of Jupiter
© Surazeus
2026 06 01 

Driving across waste land of history, 
I find the Third Man of Antarctic Quest 
still hitchhiking across America, 
so I give him ride to Zarathia 
where he gives me lost Lyre of Mercury 
as reward for helping him escape Hell. 

Though I am entirely my own real self 
who speaks with voice of fake authority, 
I hide behind cracked mask of Orpheus 
so you cannot see who I really am, 
as if it matters after I am dead, 
since I am ghost of sorrow in your head. 

I stride along strange river in bright woods 
to map new strategy for civil war 
in noble mission of the broken heart 
to restore democracy in our land 
pilfered by gang of thieves in business suits 
who proclaim their right to control the dirt. 

Shocked by excessive arguments of faith, 
I flee cathedral of the mocking clown 
to find Ahura Mazda in dark cave 
where he plays eight levels of psychic chess 
against the seven sons of Jupiter 
over who controls fields of bubbling oil. 

Ever since Orpheus with nimble hands 
saved Ophelia drowning in the river, 
they have established infrastructure base 
on which we will construct our new world order 
which helps the seven sons of Jupiter 
overthrow all greedy tyrants and kings. 

Inside the Crippled Pegasus Cafe 
in Paris down on the Parc Rives de Seine, 
I find Hegel, Marx, and Lenin relaxed 
as they watch current world events unfold 
according to their social formulas, 
so I steal wings of Icarus to fly. 

Just as I soar above bright golden clouds 
to bring Good News to Lord Hyperion, 
Orpheus shoots me down with Gun of Fate, 
then teaches me to map the water pipes 
which channel fresh water to every home 
while Jesus and Odin fight for World Crown. 

As seventh son of Jupiter, I play 
role of the jester who exposes crimes 
committed by the hungry oligarchs 
who hoard wealth of the Earth in crumbling tombs 
where skeletons of dead gods dance in rain 
that washes all our graves down to the sea.