My Blind Mother

My Blind Mother
© Surazeus
2023 11 12

My blind mother, who walks on flowing stream, 
lost her eyes when she gambled with the sun 
in vain attempt to save my soul from pain, 
but I can only see her now in dream 
holding fabric of my being she had spun 
from sparkling compassion of morning rain. 

My blind mother, who holds in thirsty hands 
writhing dragon of moral honesty, 
explains how best to navigate despair 
when searching for treasure of unowned lands, 
contrived to enhance psychic modesty 
with desperate magic of the evening prayer. 

My blind mother, who invented my name 
from tangled mystery of apple-tree roots, 
leads me by hand on signless road of faith 
which may at last leave me trapped by world fame 
through thought machine of global institutes 
designed to contain wildness of the wraith. 

My blind mother, who sings hymns in the church 
which celebrate resurrection of power, 
insulates my brain in robotic shell, 
so I search for God where grim gargoyles perch 
on spiraling dome of the cosmic flower 
that lures me with siren song to her well. 

My blind mother, who fishes for my heart 
that swims on serpent wings of arrogance 
in sunless sea, teaches me how to play 
game of chess based on negotiable chart 
which helps me analyze malevolence 
when I preside in court on judgment day. 

My blind mother, who performs role of queen 
in bold play that critiques structures of power 
based on social realist principles, 
descended from daughter of Melusine, 
sings alone in secret room of the tower 
about how souls are beams of particles. 

My blind mother, who changes blood to wine 
with bass vibration of her moon-core voice, 
decides to prophesy end of the world 
in cryptic harmony with our bloodline 
that legislates global freedom of choice 
in world game enforced by the cosmic herald. 

My blind mother, who opens her soul mask 
to weep flowers in pool of the green moon, 
becomes best friends with the giant white cat 
as they work together on sacred task 
discussing how children of the commune 
are formed by names born of their habitat. 

Absence Of God

Absence Of God
© Surazeus
2023 11 12

Because I can feel the absence of God 
more than its presence in warm beams of light, 
fierce will to live bleeds from deep wound of faith 
to motivate intention of desire 
which resurrects my soul from deep despair 
when I wake healed by energy of hope. 

Inspired to live by the absence of God, 
I follow angsty passion of my heart 
to seek through diversion of mute despair 
rapture of inspiration born from rage 
at meaninglessness chaining me to Earth 
as spirit of light writhing in weak flesh. 

Amazed by joy at the absence of God, 
I perceive through observation of fact 
divine refraction of the holy mind 
that bends elastic curve of cosmic time 
through flashing visions of my dreaming brain 
so I pulse with wild ecstasy of being. 

Confused by fear at the absence of God, 
I ponder process of cause and effect 
where pride transforms good angels into devils 
who fight each other to control rich land 
till humility, formed by pain of loss, 
transforms humans into angels of love. 

Hearing voices at the absence of God, 
I translate ancient song of ocean waves 
to language of statistics that encodes 
technical formulas through surreal dreams 
so I can analyze state of the mind 
based on epiphany of unbelief. 

Muttering prayers in the absence of God, 
when pandering to my audience of fools 
eager to believe in the afterlife, 
I laugh at that terrible fear of death 
that once paralyzed my ecstatic dance 
till I fell in the abyss of my heart. 

Lounging relaxed in the absence of God 
on leafy banks of the indifferent stream, 
I feel my body bloom from seed of light 
as I evolve four hundred million years 
fish to lizard to mouse to cat to ape 
to wingless angel singing by the sea. 

Feeling alive in the absence of God, 
that seems to symbolize all that exists, 
I sit in my quaint home in Spider Wood 
somewhere in landscape of America 
and sing with ache of love that fills my heart 
with atoms beaming from the Cosmic Eye. 

Something Dark And Eerie

Something Dark And Eerie
© Surazeus
2023 11 11

The young boy lingers on the windy shore, 
entranced by how sunlight flickers on waves, 
then studies the boat weathered by the sun 
that lies upside down on the sparkling sand, 
while something dark and eerie in his heart 
urges him to sail across the abyss. 

Waves slosh against fragile shell of the boat 
steered by the boy as wind billows it sail 
in gliding curve toward red blaze of the sun 
that watches him with eye of bright disdain, 
while something dark and eerie in the sea 
whispers riddles about why things exist. 

The sun that dreams forms of the world in light 
erases everything with formless night, 
but still he feels his heart beat with the waves 
that whisper ancient secrets of the sea, 
while something dark and eerie calls his name 
that he is sure makes him more real than fame. 

Soft glow of sunlight gleams over grim hills, 
revealing young woman in wind-blown gown 
who gathers fruits and berries in wet field, 
so he drags fragile boat on pebbled shore, 
while something dark and eerie in her eyes 
loves how he emerges from dawn-red waves. 

Before he can offer gift of his heart 
large burly muscled man on the white bull 
offers dawn girl ride to grand feasting hall 
where he gives her wine and pushes her down, 
while something dark and eerie in her throat 
cries out to the boy from the sea for help. 

Wielding club he carved from gnarly oak tree, 
young boy rising from wave-froth of the sea 
attacks the bull king as he rapes dawn girl, 
who grips his throat and almost strangles him, 
while something dark and eerie in her heart 
stabs bull king in the back with his own sword. 

Embracing him with passionate desire, 
dawn girl makes love with sea boy by the pool, 
then places gold crown of the dead bull king 
on his head to proclaim him thunder god, 
while something dark and eerie in their love 
inspires them to play lords of the world. 

Sea boy bears diamond scepter of state power 
and dawn girl holds jeweled orb of the world 
as they parade before large cheering crowds 
then sit on pyramid to rule their empire, 
while something dark and eerie in their hands 
sends armies far to colonize the Earth. 

Yet I Am Against

Yet I Am Against
© Surazeus
2023 11 10

The white sparrow in the sycamore tree 
eats the television tube of blue glass 
while pretending to confiscate the key 
that opens bleeding heart of the sea bass, 
yet I am against enslaving of humans 
so I dwell in Spider Wood with moon ravens. 

When the Outlaw who rides the lightning horse 
robs dreams from Hope Bank of the Billionaire, 
the Wizard teaches me to use the Force 
when I join Word Cult of Apollinaire, 
yet I am against racial genocide 
so I linger lost on the playground slide. 

If the Bearded Sage on the ocean shore 
becomes transparent eyeball of Star God, 
I will study Earth to its molten core 
then join quest of the global justice squad, 
yet I am against oppression of women 
so I translate the weird Sibylline omen. 

Related to Robert Lee and John Brown, 
I journey waste land to lush Oregon 
where I perform role of the psychic clown 
while longing to return to Avalon, 
yet I am against exploiting of workers 
so I join rebellion of thought berserkers. 

Coding secret name of my divine soul 
in puzzle of the Tetragrammaton, 
my brain beams with atoms of the White Whole, 
sparked by conceptual voice of oxygen, 
yet I am against charging fees for water 
so I work in temple of Magna Mater. 

After I retire from cartography 
I want to bike around the British Isles 
to complete my book on cryptography 
that will analyze all character styles, 
yet I am against claiming native land 
so I build new homes with my red right hand. 

These stories I compose with aching heart 
reflect my secret soul with honest mirror 
which inspires me to calculate star chart 
when I leave safe haven as world explorer, 
yet I am against enforcing state myth 
so I break prison gate of fearful faith. 

The three-eyed raven in the Christmas tree, 
discussing philosophy with the Jester, 
reveals ancient song of the Mother Sea 
whose spirit lives in my every ancestor, 
yet I am against tricking folk with lies 
that some omniscient god lives in the skies. 

Key Of Solomon

Key Of Solomon
© Surazeus
2023 11 10

Each time he enters the piano room, 
holding the last book printed with fake blood, 
the shadow of the woman he loves most 
rises up from numb sorrow of the dead 
to give him cup of hot chamomile tea, 
then they discuss the Key of Solomon. 

The blind devil he conjures from the Earth, 
that swirls as smoke from skull of Rehoboam, 
brings rockets forged by Hephaestus from fear, 
though blood flows from eyes of the haughty raven, 
then puts its heart in the fridge of desire 
which might preserve the Key of Solomon. 

When angel Sariel returns from the garden 
with basket of strawberries for his sister, 
he sits at round table of the Dream Puzzle 
and writes with letters that flow through the river 
to record passage in the underworld 
which calculates the Key of Solomon. 

After he joins cult of the malachim 
he works for the crownless king on the moor 
as messenger to the girl in the well 
who sings all day from hollow emptiness 
with passionate joy of demonic love 
while he translates the Key of Solomon. 

To train young angels to obey his will 
he kidnaps devils from cave of illusions 
and teaches them angelic alphabet 
so when he conjures them by secret name 
they perform missions he assigns for wine 
to integrate the Key of Solomon. 

Each day he drives chariot of Ezekiel 
far across the Bridge of Forgetfulness 
to work at life insurance company 
where he sells time shares to the Afterlife 
which he uses to build palace of ghosts 
who explicate the Key of Solomon. 

Arming his army of angels with rifles, 
Sariel sends them driving Merkabah tanks 
in war to attack Pandemonium 
where they shoot rockets at houses of ghosts 
to kill children of devils who rebel 
with guns forged from the Key of Solomon. 

Aminah lies in rubble of her home 
blasted by rockets of the laughing skull, 
so Sariel carries her in trembling arms 
to walk in waste land of the ruined town 
till her heart transforms into winged serpent 
that flies off with the Key of Solomon. 

Painting On The Wall

Painting On The Wall
© Surazeus
2023 11 10

As if to note the painting on the wall, 
that depicts the man with the golden gun 
protecting the good people of the land 
from aggressive fascists with liberty, 
is not enough to claim right of the law, 
we drink wine and process anxiety. 

Because everything the mute worker makes 
with their hands in the factory of faith 
can be sold to the people of the land, 
we share grand mission of the noble mind 
to provide liberty for every soul 
who walks the Earth with hands of hungry hope. 

The battle cry that rallies us from sleep 
leads us to gather in the common square 
where children of the forest play guitar 
and talk about pursuit of happiness 
before the crumbling of the wall of fear, 
replete with sweet smile of anxiety. 

Soon enough do the daughters of the tree 
arrive in town with the erudite key 
that opens doors of opportunity 
for those who believe they should own the sea 
because we know as true what we can see, 
acts of injustice in land of the free. 

Who would deceive the people of the land 
with sacred vision of justice and truth 
will buy the yacht of dancing skeletons 
in search for sentimental art that proves 
we are superior to all other nations 
because we possess more nuclear bombs. 

With the howling banshee of the leaf blower 
the famous painter on sabbatical 
erases spider webs around his home 
in bold assertion of his right to live 
safe on sacred land his ancestors stole, 
then drinks his cold beer in the twilight zone. 

No tribe is entitled to any land 
though their ancestors lived there centuries 
for we are transient occupants of time, 
fragile as leaves blown by the autumn wind, 
therefore the right to occupy this space 
is won by strength of bullets forged from words. 

I dwell forever in House of the Lord 
where he provides grand feast for all who vow 
obedience to social law he declares, 
because his rod that comforts can destroy, 
so I paint portrait of his haughty mien 
and hang it on the wall of liberty. 

My Pursuit Of Happiness

My Pursuit Of Happiness
© Surazeus
2023 11 09

Still lost in my pursuit of happiness, 
now deep in endless maze of ancient myths, 
I lounge at table of the nameless ghost 
at the grungy cafe down by the sea 
where boat of Odysseus lies on the sand, 
overturned by the hopeless avant-garde. 

Back home from my pursuit of happiness, 
somewhere on highway of the weeping clown, 
I redact official statements in books 
published by the grandmaster of fake truth 
with black marker to erase diatribes 
loud as frogs roasted by the avant-garde. 

With you in my pursuit of happiness, 
trapped by barb-wired walls in Garden of Eden, 
I swipe apples from wily serpent queen 
who visits Museum of Modern Art 
to buy back her painting the Nazis stole, 
once smeared with foul mud by the avant-garde. 

To begin my pursuit of happiness, 
from old cathedral ruined by bombs of war, 
I start my journey of ten thousand steps 
to find my soul mate on the river shore 
dancing to flute music of the goat god 
who gives me weapon of the avant-garde. 

Regretting my pursuit of happiness, 
that leaves me stranded in car factories, 
I design new Bridge of Forgetfulness 
for children murdered in the genocide 
to climb the Stairway to Heaven from Hell 
now ruled over by the proud avant-garde. 

Though stuck in my pursuit of happiness, 
lounging as I gaze at the blade of grass, 
I study weird enigma of my Unself, 
perceived by people as Idol of Me, 
that pulses with demonic energy 
when I perform role of the avant-garde. 

Changing through my pursuit of happiness, 
when I vanish in stories of the book, 
I remain Eternal Self I design 
through poetic expression of free will, 
grand destiny that Fate knows I will choose 
as bold rebel against the avant-garde. 

Now woke in my pursuit of happiness, 
based on the rule book of Apollinaire, 
I dig my grave in Garden of the Moon 
to prove I am the soul of Zathamar 
where children of all nations can run free, 
till they are brainwashed by the avant-garde. 

House Of Water

House Of Water
© Surazeus
2023 11 09

When I return home to the house of water 
that I built in the middle of the ocean, 
my prayers transform bombs falling from the sky 
into eggs that generate dragon children 
who will rise from the burning bush of fear 
to build paradise on the skulls of hate. 

I will hang photos in the house of water 
that show every human being ever born 
who woke from dream time of the glowing sun 
to give each other secret name of love 
till Death erased their bodies from the air 
so dust of their minds forms the Earth I touch. 

My heart is throbbing in the house of water 
with psychic passion of the octopus 
who teaches me how to read light of stars 
that light the golden path of fate I walk 
to find paradise beyond the waste land 
where I dig the grave of my dreamless soul. 

Awake with shadows in the house of water, 
I walk outside the door of hopeless faith 
to grove of fruit trees by the singing river 
where I remember my ancestral lives 
evolving from fish into wingless angel 
who alone has survived each holocaust. 

Still searching for truth in the house of water 
that multiplies from middle of the ocean, 
I listen to faceless people I meet 
who tell me how they managed to survive 
destruction of the paradise they built 
by blind men who try to control the rain. 

Haunted by sad ghosts in the house of water 
whose souls were murdered in the genocide, 
I place their beating hearts on windowpanes 
so they can sprout strong wings of reborn hope 
and fly from paradise destroyed by bombs 
with feathers tangled in the barbwire fence. 

Since I live with Death in the house of water, 
who teaches our wild children how to sing, 
I can walk crowded streets of the dream maze 
and give special masks to the nameless ghosts 
so they can live in peace on Planet Earth, 
till I wake mute in ruins of Paradise. 

After I escape from the house of water 
that I built in the middle of the ocean 
I will plant the bombs that fall from the sky 
in the wind-swept dunes of paradise lost 
so they will blossom into apple trees 
that feed descendants of our nameless ghosts. 

I Contemplate The Mystery

I Contemplate The Mystery
© Surazeus
2023 11 08

When I walk to the edge of Spider Wood 
where the Raven Witch dances in moonlight, 
I feel my sorrows dissipate in breeze 
that swirls from darkest shadow of the world 
so I begin to float over the trees 
while I contemplate the mystery of flight. 

Though I wait at the edge of Spider Wood 
where the Raven Witch bakes spiced pumpkin pie, 
I watch ants build empire of pyramids 
that covers the globe with their busyness 
so I build new Bridge of Forgetfulness 
where I contemplate the mystery of why. 

If I sing at the edge of Spider Wood 
where the Raven Witch carves runes on house doors, 
I could record whole history of the Earth 
in sweet ballads of romantic despair 
so I write tingling spells on swirling mist 
as I contemplate the mystery of love. 

When I run from the edge of Spider Wood 
where the Raven Witch puts me in her heart, 
I approach the weird antique cabinet 
that lurks inside the empty house we bought 
where ghosts of all the people I love hide 
since I contemplate the mystery of death. 

While I dream near the edge of Spider Wood 
where the Raven Witch glares at me with eyes 
that open wide infinity of truth, 
I swerve straight with expression of free will 
to drink from cave spring of the Flying Horse 
till I contemplate the mystery of Her. 

Till I fly through the edge of Spider Wood 
where the Raven Witch mocks my humble pride, 
I untwist motives of arcane intent 
to sing ancestral spell of grim insight 
when I relax in Pegasus Cafe 
while I contemplate the mystery of truth. 

Because I map the edge of Spider Wood 
where the Raven Witch transforms her star soul 
into green glowing skeleton of glass, 
I hold her hand as we walk signless road 
toward new City of Opportunity 
if I contemplate the mystery of fate. 

We journey to the edge of Spider Wood 
where the Raven Witch gives me diamond heart 
that hatches from the cosmic god-eyed egg 
which spirals into galaxies of worlds 
where we make love with consciousness of faith 
so I contemplate the mystery of life. 

Shadow Of The Mind

Shadow Of The Mind
© Surazeus
2023 11 07

When I consider shadow of the mind 
that casts its memories on the broken stone, 
I measure distance to the haughty cliff 
where children of my sorrow wait for why 
time realigns our journey to the sky 
which might reveal stories we leave behind. 

How far into strange shadow of the mind 
I walk the signless road to everywhere 
depends on sacred treasures of the dead 
I might find on lost island of the ghost 
who leaves secret signs for me on the coast 
though I keep hidden what star light designed. 

If I hide in false shadow of the mind 
to eat roasted beef spiced with garum sauce, 
I could observe the horse with angel wings 
that transforms into swift airplane of my heart 
so I can find Heaven using star chart 
kept safe by humble daughter of the hind. 

To climb high hills toward shadow of the mind 
with sense of loss that motivates my quest 
I will let go all sacred things I bought 
with sacrifice my lonely heart contrives 
while I harvest honey from bookish hives 
though bitter joy unravels truth I bind. 

After we kiss in shadow of the mind 
she tells me with bright shining smile of love 
that cold indifferent stars define our fate 
unless we hold hands as we climb the trail 
winding up Moon Mountain where angels wail 
to fulfill the marriage contract we signed. 

With anxious flash in shadow of the mind 
we savor lightless sunrise beyond death 
still fraught with laughter of the swirling sea 
since we believe weird doctrines clouds express 
that transient humans can never possess 
old land indifferent to hopes of mankind. 

Awake beyond grim shadow of the mind, 
we count infinities of human souls 
who share sweet melons by the River Styx 
in summer party of the nameless mask 
as reward when I finish hardest task 
only eyeless vampire could have assigned. 

Since nothing born from shadow of the mind 
can last forever with slow spin of time, 
I seek fane of Zephyrus in dark cave 
where young girl bears the Holy Grail of love 
delicately shaped as the yellow foxglove, 
therefore I love her because she is kind. 

Global State Of Anglonesia

Global State Of Anglonesia
© Surazeus
2023 11 07

Lost in vast wilderness of America 
on my sacred quest for the Holy Grail, 
stumbling in the waste land of heresy, 
I see shining above the Golden Dome 
of Hagia Sophia in Byzantium 
Maria Magdalena, Empress of Life. 

When I climb Stairway to Heaven, I find 
Jesus and his descendants crowned with light, 
Meroveus, Constantinus, Arthurus, 
Carolus Magnus, Willelmus Normandius, 
each one new Messsiah of Anglonesia 
who seeks to rule over all Telluria. 

Gathered in temple of Mother Sophia, 
wise granddaughter of Maria Magdalena, 
Jesus and his descendants, crowned as kings, 
sing hymns about David, Joshua, and Adam, 
then drink wine and feast on roasted beef steak 
while Phoebus strums lyre of Mercurius. 

Young children in costumes perform the play 
recounting origin of their great clan, 
Jesus crucified by petty King Herodus 
as Maria escapes to Massilia by boat 
to hide in holy cave of Santa Bauma 
with their kids, Tamar, Jesus, and Josephus. 

Gold Lion Dragon of the Holy Grail 
rises on wings of flame from Cave of Dreams 
to conquer wild tribes of Gothinia 
and found world empire on skull of Odinus 
that rings the north, America to Russia, 
linked by Isle of Avalon at its core. 

From Mount Olympus rises ghost of Zeus 
on Phoenix wings from ashes of world war 
who binds kingdoms into United Nations 
with spirit of Otania at its core 
to found one global state of Anglonesia 
ruled by the Dream Book Zoroaster wrote. 

Strange vision of the future world empire, 
that emerges like Cetus from sea waves, 
dissipates at cold rosy flash of dawn 
when the sun gleams over Rainbow Mountains 
with shadow-piercing rays of the Red Cross, 
so I laugh at how mortal men play God. 

Illusion of that world empire is gone, 
leaving me alone on the river shore 
where I watch spider of Robert the Bruce 
weave star-gleaming web of indifferent Nature 
between Tree of Knowledge and Tree of Life, 
so I lounge and eat apples by my tomb. 

All The Light I Can See

All The Light I Can See
© Surazeus
2023 11 06

All the light I can see burns through my heart 
with subtle ting of bells only I hear 
so I inspire ethereal wind of hope 
with wordless melody of flowing stream 
refracting weird energy of the sky 
congealed in Star Stone of eternity. 

Through incantation of harmonious hum 
I spell conceptual vision my eyes dream 
with words that tangle thoughts of social power 
in pulsing web of hopes our brains suppress 
that fuels star-spinning wheel of random fate 
when I choose to protect people I love. 

When soul-sucking wraiths of arrogant pride 
swirl around me with cold vampiric lust 
to consume energy of the Star Stone 
which emanates from hot core of my being, 
I chant harmonic spell of synergy 
that swirls taut hurricane spirit of love. 

Congruent flux of tranquil chaos spins 
tightly controlled surges of conceptual force 
when I extend sheer will of fruitful love 
to channel ceaseless waves of vibrant light 
through ocean tides of transforming intent 
that bloom beautiful memories in our eyes. 

All the light I cannot see oscillates 
between extreme poles of opposite truths 
to beam curving ribbons of lemniscate 
in taut geometry of spinning time 
that weaves my soul in matrix of star souls 
radiating from God Eye of our universe. 

On wind-plumed wings of curiosity 
I ride time-leaping horse of eager hope 
on hill-curving hippopede of desire 
around wide oval symmetry of faith 
to drink beauty from fresh Hippocrene Spring 
till our aching hearts bloom from one Star Stone. 

From flashing egg of timeless hope for love 
our universe expands to double-covered sphere 
through morphic torus of infinity 
where countless planets spinning in the void 
generate conscious beings who wake from light 
to join symphony of our multiverse. 

Serene axis of revolution binds 
cohesive rings in fluctuating swirls 
as beams that coordinate countless souls 
to live in harmony of honest trust 
which integrates aggression in bold peace 
to harmonize opposing wills in death. 

Bullet Of False Pride

Bullet Of False Pride
© Surazeus
2023 11 05

When ancient bard, last seen on misty heath 
singing tales of martial heroes, is seen 
busking with guitar on corners of streets 
in cities crowded with computer towers, 
our hearts are chilled by ancient memories 
seeping through mask of vain urbanity. 

Though he stands now by oiled telephone pole 
and sings of Fingal, king of mountain storms, 
while strumming rusty strings of worn guitar 
with crippled fingers of romantic faith, 
the ancient bard once haunted misty hills 
where skull of Ossian floats in windy cave. 

Face smeared with dirt from never taking showers, 
the ancient bard wraps tattered nylon jacket 
tight around shoulders gaunt from bitter wind 
that blows his leaf-fragile soul over field 
of rusty cars and broken frigerators 
past barbwire fence to torn tent where he sleeps. 

Through bleary eyes he watches freighter ships 
chug slowly past his tent in Spider Wood, 
and, while he drinks last drops of beer, explains 
to mannequin still wearing business suit 
that he signed up to fight the terrorists 
in stark rugged hills of Afghanistan. 

Gripping assault rifle close to his chest, 
young sergeant, born and raised in Arkansas, 
leaps from the humvee on bare mountain road 
and runs with unit to surround the house 
where evil Taliban commander lives, 
then kicks in the door and shoots at the ghost. 

Young girl in purple hijab gasps surprised 
when bullets of his righteous pride in truth 
pierces soul of her heart through fresh-baked bread 
so she falls back against the blood-smeared wall, 
and in her eyes he sees his long-sought bride 
who would have raised three children at his side. 

I would have preferred to marry that girl, 
to sit with her in garden of fig trees 
and play melodies on strings of the lute 
while she sings heart-enchanting psalms of love, 
then laugh with joy as we drink wine to kiss, 
but I killed her with bullet of false pride. 

The insurance salesman in gray business suit 
who hurries past to make another sale 
ignores the ancient bard with burning eyes 
who sings with aching heart of bitter loss 
about death of Malvina by the sea 
whose bloody hand caresses his chilled cheek. 

Shadow Of Our Darkest Fears

Shadow Of Our Darkest Fears
© Surazeus
2023 11 04

Cry of the moon-eyed raven at midnight 
conceals my secret home in Spider Wood 
where nameless clowns on television screen 
perform tragic tale of the princess bride 
who searches for ghost of the man she loves 
who wanders voiceless on the misty moors. 

We give each other treasure we love most 
to prove we know the secret way back home, 
but we stand empty by the river shore, 
unable to accept surprise of death, 
as if the turtle crawling toward the sea 
can show us where our broken hearts are hid. 

The man who wants to steal her lonely heart 
scatters pieces of her puzzle on the ground 
in vain attempt to trick her with sly ploy, 
but she will never accept his fake love 
for he wants her to prove his name is blessed 
so she must hide faceless in Spider Wood. 

When gang of hungry men with gleaming swords 
hunt her soul in shadows of Spider Wood, 
she leaps into the sky on glowing wings 
and soars beyond vain grasping of his hands 
so he can only see mask of her face 
that shines with grace in mirror of the moon. 

We channel shadow of our darkest fears 
through clever metaphors of aching hope, 
projecting passions we want to deny 
in characters who perform roles we write 
with bloody ink that flows from wounded heart 
that misdirects attention from our pain. 

The raven witch who wanders Spider Wood, 
with basket of serpent eggs on her arm, 
must focus attention of her sad heart 
on gathering treasures of nutritious truth 
from ancient trees writhing in murky swamp 
so painful sorrow of his loss may fade. 

Standing knee-deep in moon-cold river flow 
that streams from mountain cave of singing skulls, 
the raven witch gazes in sparkling eyes 
of Death whose face smiles in trunk of the oak 
so she can understand spell of his words 
that guides her journey into Spider Wood. 

Stripping off elegant gown of the court, 
the raven witch dances in Spider Wood 
with wild abandon of the aching soul 
who loses everything to greed of fate 
which stirs strange primal spark of fantasy 
that he appears in swirling moon-gold mist. 

Racing To Flee Death

Racing To Flee Death
© Surazeus
2023 11 04

Though bards cannot bend Nature to their will, 
nor any longer prophesy events 
that ripple from cause of the curse-bound stone 
hurled by taut sling-shot of effective verse, 
we stand on street corners of hope and sing 
heart-aching elegies for nameless ghosts. 

Though I now stand on high Cliff of Despair 
I will not leap from heady mountain height 
to plunge in roaring tide of endless night, 
for urgent passion to translate star song 
in cluttered puzzle of dream-riddled spells 
inspires my heart to rise from flames of war. 

Bound to the past by spells of long-dead bards, 
I carve from skull of the jester new mask 
presenting pure persona I perform 
to join great fellowship of the Dream Ring 
since fame is bought from fate by sacrifice 
which erases my name from history. 

I cannot sublimate with wordless death 
compassionate drive to transcend my idol 
as spectator at my own funeral 
where no one laments silencing of song 
that rings in harmony with engine buzz 
of cars and airplanes racing to flee death. 

The wild-eyed prophet lost in the waste land 
leads countless bards from grand amusement park 
of mortal fear to find the Promised Land 
of immortal fame as the Greatest Bard, 
but leads them lost in dead-end labyrinth 
where they scratch at sterile soil with numb hands. 

Instead of noble warriors or love-wise kings 
who organize nations of working craftsmen 
with vision of productive management, 
blind bards of sterile ideologies 
sing about mute ghost they see in the pool 
to celebrate their fake identity. 

No bard will ever gain more than they lose 
when they gamble with Death for endless fame 
for they will shine their brightest in dark gloom 
with rage against reality of death 
that erases all our songs from world dream, 
so we must sing with joy until we die. 

Dropping lyre of Mercury in snow, 
I hold sweet Hyacinth Girl in my arms 
as we ride sled down mountain slope of love 
with wicked freedom of two love-bound fools 
who join our hearts on signless road of trust 
to generate new life until we die. 

Magic Spells Of Poetry

Magic Spells Of Poetry
© Surazeus
2023 11 03

Your ghosts, that haunt me in dim evening gloom 
as moonlight gleaming in gossamer webs 
which bind my ancient heart in Spider Wood, 
possess large spiders that float between oaks 
and gaze at me with billion stellar eyes, 
immortal universe in heart of Earth. 

Though bodies my ancestors once possessed 
with urgent spirit of ambitious quest 
lie buried deep in moldering mounds of faith 
along the endless road they blazed from death 
their souls still animate my dreaming brain 
with passion to explore mind mirror of rain. 

If I could trace their journey back to lake 
where they first woke from dream of eyeless stars 
I might remember how my soul arrived 
at this strange hour in swirling of the Earth 
because, when I sit on the rain-smooth stone, 
I feel sad watching Time River flow past. 

Walking away from garden home they knew 
since they first learned to sing with flighty birds, 
they walked across the waste land of despair 
to find new valley blooming apple trees 
where they fell in love with the soul they met 
dancing in grove of trees at cool twilight. 

Holding hands in shadow of Spider Wood, 
young lovers pledge eternal troth of love, 
then kiss to generate from ache of hope 
new lithe bodies for children to translate 
immortal soul of genes beyond their death 
in ever-flowing stream of new-born souls. 

Since we were formed in hydrothermal vents 
and crawled on diamonds in fresh-water streams 
to rise from lake of dreams at dawn of time 
and climb enormous tangled web of trees, 
I have transformed from fish to wingless angel 
who stands by the sea to sing ache of love. 

Ten million people sea to shining sea, 
alone in secret homes by signless roads, 
sing together in global choir of angels 
harmonious hymn of melancholy hope 
that visions of our minds we code in spells 
will preserve our souls long after we die. 

But all these vibrant visions in our brains, 
that flash with memories of our timeless hours 
when lovers share pleasure with ache of love, 
will dissipate to nothing when we die, 
even magic spells of poetry we write 
soon vanish with indifferent flash of rain. 

Blood Of Our Sacrifice

Blood Of Our Sacrifice
© Surazeus
2023 11 03

Now quiet after blasting of the bombs, 
when eerie twilight lingers in smoke clouds 
over ruptured rubble of apartment blocks 
where nameless ghosts of wounded people lie 
moaning with pain in dark hospital halls, 
ruins of the once thriving city dreams. 

With unreal language in false prayers of faith 
will I lament death of innocent souls 
when fearful tyrants of two nations fight 
through brutal attacks of arrogant pride 
that destroy the people they would protect, 
hiding weakness from positions of strength. 

So many noble people with strong skills 
of creative craftsmanship based on love 
in both nations take up arms to protect 
their right to live on ancient fathered land 
and kill each other with anguish of fear 
that leaves them buried nameless in mass graves. 

Religious temples, hospitals, and schools, 
filled with frightened people hiding in gloom 
to escape rockets of nationalist hate, 
are blasted into heaps of moldering rubble, 
becoming tombs where those innocent souls 
lie crushed and burned into heaps of mute ash. 

If you ask me which city of lost souls 
I here describe with language of grim facts 
I will point to sprawling map of our world 
to show you thousands of cities and towns 
destroyed by armies of invading hordes 
that soak the Earth with blood ten thousand years. 

Hundreds of cities getting bombed today 
are just the latest casualties of war 
that rumbles around our fragile spinning globe 
in restless storms of fierce traumatized men 
manipulated by tyrants in towers 
who send them into battle to steal land. 

Safe in my home in land of Onatah, 
protected by army of boys with guns, 
I can do nothing but sing this lament 
with melancholy anguish of the fool 
for billions of people around the Earth 
killed in holy wars by proud Sons of God. 

My heart now pregnant with celestial fire, 
I sing heart-breaking elegy of faith 
that will not justify strict laws of Jove 
who sits on throne of swords in hall of skulls, 
and laughs with glee to see dumb humans fight 
so he can drink blood of our sacrifice. 

Star-Eyed Way

Star-Eyed Way
© Surazeus
2023 11 02

My heart now pregnant with celestial fire 
reanimates my frail time-withered soul 
so I wake ecstasy with living lyre 
through studied training for the bardic role 
I dare not play on pyramid of faith 
when I alchemize mind of the Star Wraith. 

When refugees from war walk signless road 
in hopeless journey across the waste land 
strong soul that glows with tribal leader mode, 
who leads them safely to the Promised Land, 
wakes with the playful ghost of Lucifer 
who opposes the tyrant Jupiter. 

Far from the madding crowd of fearful folk, 
who kill each other for the Holy Land, 
I sit beneath the spider-tangled oak 
and strum Mercurial lyre with crippled hand 
to sing about wise seekers for the truth 
who wake from dream time as messiah sleuth. 

Since bright immortal spirit of the stars 
shines deep in pulsing atoms of my brain 
I stand amazed on globe of spiral bars 
to savor pleasure of both sun and rain 
that beams divine spirit in every mind 
through personality that hope assigned. 

Though to Fame and Fortune I am unknown 
my heart is fueled with Melancholy flame 
to sing voice of the sea with eerie tone 
that vibrates far from mirror of my name 
as mind-enchanting hymn of passionate love 
which fills my hollow heart with treasure trove. 

When I, apparelled in celestial light, 
stride across bleak waste land burned by war, 
as Lucifer who joins the Freedom Fight, 
I bear frail bodies, wounded to the core 
by bombs of hate fired by the hand of greed, 
to bury them in our hearts as the seed. 

Since we are mortals our mothers create 
by weaving atoms into frames of flesh, 
we invent myths of gods to navigate 
dangerous landscape of Nature forming mesh 
of opportunities we choose to play 
through sacred vision of the Star-Eyed Way. 

We all will die with turning of the world 
so I decide to endure at your side 
when your love guides me as the cosmic herald 
to build empire from wisdom amplified 
by words the dead speak from their silent tomb 
that reveal secret of life through the womb. 

Seven-Eyed Witch

Seven-Eyed Witch
© Surazeus
2023 11 01

Down spooky avenues of Spider Wood 
where shadow walkers haunt my neighborhood 
mad wild-haired wizard of the singing oak 
flies with moon ravens in long feathered cloak 
to find the curse-bound book of ancient spells 
hidden in Star Stone on bleak misty fells. 

Along the narrow jagged mountain ridge 
mad raven wizard searches for Dream Bridge 
where vision-haunted witch with seven eyes 
bears Star Stone that conjures storm in red skies 
which shakes foundation in the church of skulls 
surrounded by army of haughty bulls. 

With emerald green eyes of flashing swirls 
Melusine gestures hands in shape that hurls 
electric sparks through spirals of despair 
that tangle arrogant horns in fierce air 
to discombobulate warriors with gleam 
of beautiful nymphs that trap them in dream. 

With arrogant snarl of sharp serpent teeth 
Minotaur grips sword bound with bridal wreath 
with bold intention to enslave her soul 
and crown himself emperor as grand goal, 
then charges forward fast to grip her throat 
but stumbles when her specter starts to float. 

On wild angelic wings of noble faith 
quick raven wizard pivots tight to scaith 
arrogant bull king with blade in his breast 
that blocks his progress with intent arrest, 
with mission to protect from grievous harm 
seven-eyed witch who wields the Star Stone charm. 

Gored by horn of fierce Minotaur he kills, 
raven wizard tumbles lost in bleak hills 
where he lies wounded by the cheerful stream 
till Melusine arrives with cordial scheme 
to resurrect his body from cracked bone 
by preserving his soul in star-eyed stone. 

Transforming seed she extracts from his heart, 
Melusine molds new body based on chart 
depicting ideal man with noble mind 
who grows into wise child his genes designed 
because she teaches him to sing dream spell 
by drawing water from myth-flowing well. 

Down spooky avenues of Spider Wood 
where shadow walkers haunt my neighborhood 
wily young wizard of the singing oak 
flies with moon ravens in long feathered cloak 
to find the curse-bound book of ancient spells 
hidden in Star Stone on bleak misty fells. 

Weird Telephone That Rings

Weird Telephone That Rings
© Surazeus
2023 11 01

Weird telephone that rings inside my brain 
wants me to understand conceptual pain 
people feel when governments bomb their home 
in myths recording where refugees roam 
in never-ending search for Promised Land 
which is some place we die in our last stand. 

I try to rescue Lady of Shalott 
from cruel misogyny of Lancelot 
who leads crusade to conquer Holy Land 
yet loses game of chess on the seastrand 
where Death teaches my skull to prophesy 
how children of the conquered multiply. 

The teeming mass of people without names 
who enter world court with outdated land claims 
cry out to God for justice to be served 
for stolen land where stories are preserved 
which code in riddles secret genocides 
erased by silent swirl of ocean tides. 

Each valley of our spinning Earth conceals 
ruins of temples crushed by greedy wheels 
when armies sent by gods in jeweled crowns 
dismantle agency of private towns 
till we are nothing more than dust in wind 
we encounter driving the highway bend. 

Blind prophet in high tower by the sea 
tunes his brain to weird mental frequency 
that channels wordless feelings of mankind 
which he encodes in language fear designed 
to translate horror of bloody world war 
into prize-winning samples of state lore. 

Through artificial intelligence codes 
our blind seer maps network of psychic roads 
that bind our hearts in lineage of dreams 
where lonely wanderers follow mute streams 
till we meet beneath apple tree of fate 
to ponder duty of the peaceful state. 

Though zeroes teach us phosphorus of light 
encircles cosmic garden of the right, 
we eat sweet fruit in paradise of faith 
till rockets fired from castle of God Wraith 
destroy our hopes and dreams with honest prayer 
transformed through psychological warfare. 

Weird telephone that rings inside my heart 
connects my body to the starless chart 
which determines fate of my life and death 
based on where I am born with divine breath, 
yet I will build virtual world to replace 
my nation bombed by the man with no face.