Shriveled Orange Of Ennui
© Surazeus
2026 08 02

I steal the shriveled orange of ennui
to eat tormented pleasure of sweet Death
who knows strange passions of my pulsing brain,
filled with the writhing worms of humble pride,
which helps me paint on canvas of my fate
inspiring vision of this teeming world.

That star-eyed alchemist of ennui
transforms my captive soul with bitter faith
from hungry wanderer across the land
to blind bard singing grand heroic tales
by plucking taut strings of my naive heart
with rotten fruit of charming pulchritude.

Soul vaporized by his hermetic art,
I lavish vows of faith in crumbling fane,
concealed by veil of spirit-tangled vines,
to feed my tame remorse with pungent faith
that I may yet evade sharp blade of Death
who stalks my steps since dark hour of my birth.

Intent on sacred mission to observe
weird mysteries beneath dark ocean waves,
I sail bold ship of curiosity
between wild whirlpool and snake in the cave
to sacrifice my faith I treasure most
for swift ascension to the Promised Land.

Though I am kinsman to the glowing clouds,
I never scoff at archers who ask why
I wear the wounded albatross of faith
around my neck with penitential grace,
yet they mock comical ineptitude
revealed by clumsy strike at cliff of fear.

Each morning when I wake from ennui
of frantic dreams, refracted by cracked lens
of my conceptual telescope, I ask
my wretched muse if she knows secret code
that would assist perception of my heart
when I discern mad horror of world war.

No wise god with englamored face of fame
haunts visions of my fractured eyes at dawn
through mask of my personal succubus
who gives me ancient syllables of milk
for me to drink blood of the harvest lord
whose bones form foundation of my empire.

I still live under vast and columned vaults,
tinged with soft glow of television screens,
where I sense mystic force of gasoline
that fuels the piston engine of my heart
so I chant sublime harmonies of hope
to praise the splendid light of secret grief.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus hangs out with Baudelaire at the Crippled Pegasus Cafe to chat about the beautiful girl who sings heart-breaking melodies of hope.

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