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Friday, October 30, 2026

Television Tube Of Truth

Television Tube Of Truth
© Surazeus
2026 10 30

When sparrows spring from sudden songs of hope, 
I hold ever-flowing hourglass of fate 
with supple laughter of our arrogance 
that happiness of flashing synergy 
could be more than frail bubble on the stream 
that vanishes with mist on web of dawn. 

Grand symphony of my eccentric heart 
swells with vibrant shadow from my grave 
as sunlit clouds that crack with thunder song 
to drench our city in spiritual rain 
with noisy burden of my wordless voice 
that radiates waves of songs on radios. 

Our spirits rise from swirling sea of dreams 
through bleached evaporation of desire 
to form enormous clouds of mindless gods 
that soak the waste land of the roadless west 
in screaming riddles of electric ghosts 
who transform into humans without hope. 

Dry Earth soaks our spirits into its heart 
so we bloom tall in trees of humming faith 
that morph our bodies into juicy fruit 
consumed by insatiable hope of Death 
who dances when I dare play violin 
for gods in abandoned aquarium. 

Ghosts of my Puritan ancestors glow 
as gold candles in pumpkin heads of gods 
when children dressed as cowboys and vampires 
loot strange treasures from mansions of the rich 
which they return to history museums 
to honor our savage civility. 

Trapped in the television tube of truth 
with masks of characters from fairy tales, 
I captain our sleek starship among stars 
to visit strange new worlds where devils trick 
humble farmers to support haughty kings 
till cities are destroyed by nuclear bombs. 

Emerging from vales of the jagged Alps, 
where lizard men dwell in bright jeweled caves, 
I build empire with Wand of Jupiter 
based on nutritious passion of wheat bread 
so I can find lost grave of Icarus 
and rebuild sky-ship of his broken heart. 

While growing old with sorrow of lost time, 
I carve weird riddles on black obelisk 
with serpent runes of star-engendered love 
that flash on television tubes of truth 
to hypnotize new children of dead gods 
who wrestle hovering cherubim of faith. 



1 comment:

  1. Orpheus walks with Sir Patrick Stewart along flashing wing of our galaxy as they discuss essential nature of bodiless gods that play with humans like puppets of vanity.

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