Beyond The Promised Land
© Surazeus
2026 01 18

Below the hill where fortune waits for me
rain puddles shimmer in the morning sun,
so I gaze down in mirror of my mind
to ponder how human history is based
on the Mother and Child beneath the tree
that blooms with holy apples of the sun.

Iridescent sheen of beautiful hope
inspires my heart to construct from strong wood
home of four pillars on firm pyramid
to shelter bodies of my family
from harsh conditions of indifferent weather
so we can thrive in garden of the light.

Ascension up scale of authority
to manage domestic scope of insight
provides elevated view of the world
composed of wheat fields divided by roads
that channel water from the lake of dreams
where farmers cultivate soul sustenance.

To protect the Mother and Child from harm
I build safe house on pyramid of skulls,
then plow fields with solemn strength of cows
to bake bread from wheat that gleams with sunlight
which I store in warehouse as the loaf-ward,
and thus build world food-production machine.

We cannot return to that Eden state
as we connect all cities on the globe
in teeming web of wealth-computing towers
where we drive swift piston-engine machines
in endless chess game of productive strife
ruled over by thieves in gray business suits.

Still alive after sixty centuries,
World Pharaoh stands on pyramid of gold
to rule the Earth as Demon of Desire
whose faceless mask of great authority
controls state presidents as puppeteer
through statue of gold with soft feet of clay.

Blind singer homeless on the White House lawn
strums lyre of Mercury with crippled hands
and sings with crackling voice of radios
psalms of David and hymns of Orpheus
to lead lost refugees of civil wars
on signless road beyond the Promised Land.

Escaping prison camps of feudal farms,
ruled by tyrants in castles with gold crowns,
we sail the wild Atlantic Sea of fear
to colonize Edenic Promised Land
where we crucify our messiah sleuth
on the telephone pole of the waste land.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus writes hymns on gold plates that shimmer deep in collapsed cave of illusions for one hundred thousand years as code that programs how humans compete for resources in game of thrones.

#Poetry #Poem #Pastoral #Necropastoral #MetaModernism #Transrealism #NewSublimity #NewRomanticism #AmericanDream #Cinemism #Existentialism #Surrealism #NegativeCapability #NewGnosticism #MetaRealism #NewTranscendentalism #Astarism