Alpine Celts Of Luck

Alpine Celts Of Luck
© Surazeus
2026 08 05

If I should register fate of the coup 
in conspiracy to banish the devil 
who thinks our world should be his precious oyster, 
I shall arrive at the housewarming party 
with gift designed from shadows of desire 
which no haughty angel could memorize. 

I cannot save the house my words have built 
except to fold its photographs with care 
and store them in ephemera archives 
so I can almost maintain balanced stillness 
through equal standing of Samasthiti 
since I will only fight the greedy devil. 

Ascendant rhetoric of the art film 
provides framework through ideology 
to maintain distance from the painful truths 
we use to disidentify our friends 
who dwell in natural lightning of dark storms 
that loom black over small towns of our hopes. 

I hear song of the rattlesnake at dusk 
when I stroll casually in desert storm 
to prove my nation is superior 
with ice cream designed by social critique 
because our bodies must adapt or die 
when devils trick us to buy faith in God. 

Stuck on the Low Road back to Fairyland, 
I hide my Wings of Icarus to walk 
the mist-enshrouded shores of Loch Lomond 
where Amanita mushrooms glowing red 
sprout from huge corpses of iron-age kings 
till Pythagoras measures unseen minds. 

Since I support awareness of the world, 
though trapped in idol Pygmalion sculpts, 
I untwist sorrows from my wounded heart 
as writhing threads of alabaster snakes 
to mold eccentric spheres of swirling light 
that flash with signals of social success. 

While watching Hercules with tangled hair 
wrestle the monstrous demon of his heart, 
I see the Golden Lion of the Sun 
expand as emanation from his brain 
so his brave sons, the Alpine Celts of Luck, 
establish Empire of the Seven Hills. 

While strolling around lake near Mount Takoma, 
I notice the watch I wear on my wrist 
has transformed into the white raven quill 
which I employ to compose epic tale 
about ancient philosophers whose ideas 
form foundation of our global world view.