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Saturday, July 11, 2026

Snow-White God Butterfly

Snow-White God Butterfly
© Surazeus
2026 07 11

If I cast my bread in waters of hope, 
after selling devils ten thousand cars, 
I could buy descendant of Pegasus 
to fly above vast maze of city streets 
where people chase bright rainbow of respect 
till they vanish in television shows. 

With sharp knife of assertive innocence, 
I slice bread loaf of economic gain 
so every person in the world can eat 
as if food is the answer to despair, 
because the snow-white god butterfly knows 
secret passion of my casino heart. 

Though all gods humans worshipped in the past 
are nameless gusts of wind in sun-gold trees, 
I feel them ever present in my home 
for they haunt those who think about them most, 
small lights of hope in darkness of the world 
that guide my way in tangled woods of change. 

Ghost of my mother in her living room 
sits in the rocking chair of timeless truth, 
and knits another sweater of concern 
from huge ball of traumatic memories 
which she gives to homeless people downtown 
who wear them when they huddle in snow fall. 

Since the dream ghost of everyone decides 
to sell lamp of Diogenes to Thor, 
our bodies have become vessels of thought 
programmed to perform duties for the dream 
that hard work is rewarded with great wealth 
which we all share in our hypnotic trance. 

When Alfred the Great and Harald Fairhair 
play game of chess in Kronborg Castle court 
over who will wear the golden Crown of Thorns, 
Phoebus takes hand of Alof Gydhasdottir 
and sails with her to misty Isle of Skye 
where they fly his starship to Magrathea. 

Now that I know my whole ancestral tale, 
filled with men and women with starry eyes 
who attempted to build Heaven on Earth, 
I can relax on shore of River Styx 
and think of how to map world history 
that includes every soul who ever lived. 

After I work in the car factory, 
assembling engines from midnight till dawn, 
I hang out in meadow of dew-wet grass 
and listen to snow-white god butterfly 
describe how swerving atoms interact 
to conjure consciousness in dreaming brains. 



1 comment:

  1. Orpheus finds Pegasus grazing in the dew-wet meadow by the River Styx where the winged horse of fate watches over my grave for the rest of eternity.

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