Bitter Prayers Of Fantasies
Bitter Prayers Of Fantasies
© Surazeus
2026 08 21
After turning key of uncertainty
I ask the honey bees of innocence
to find home burned by soldiers of despair
who barricade their hearts with polished stones
fractured from idols of their social gods
who feed on bitter prayers of fantasies.
There is no substance in our enmities
we gather to replace faint hopes of love,
yet we ask honey bees of arrogance
to build their hives of passion-pilfered wealth
in home now empty of our family ghosts
whose hearts lead them to wander windy hills.
In ninth Troy of America we dwell,
secure in tower where Rapunzel sings,
whose anguish catches it afire this hour,
though we continue with our daily lives
through certain faith that noble minds prevail
though faceless Helen walks the Earth again.
Dark weeds grow from pavestones of social power
where Brigid herds sheep on the White House lawn,
and sings enchanting prophecies of doom
while I play broken lyre of Mercury,
yet she decides to give out fish and bread
to people homeless from social collapse.
No dream of paradise could paralyze
our good intentions for democracy
in noble mission to replace all kings
with honest leaders whom people elect
because they hear with brave ears of insight
voices of the dead explain how to live.
Heart riddled with weird light of star-blind gods,
I hurl fierce curse of justice at the sky
where no immense mind of the absolute
ensures equality for every soul,
so with eye of my brain in turbulence
I seek moon-stark hill of electric skulls.
Shocked by insistence of angelic wings
that I transcend this fragile flame of flesh,
I channel bitter prayers of fantasies
through jubilant expressions of respect
for brave endurance of our wounded hearts
to face down the silver-helmed Seraphim.
Indifferent to our solitude in time,
the star-eyed prophet of the misty isle
refuses to proclaim in busy streets
crimes of the powerful who still exploit
our bodies for profits they confiscate
though we pray to idol of God for help.
surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…
Orpheus strolls with Yeats on Innisfree to gather apples fallen from the wounded hearts of refugees whose homes were bombed in war of fantasies.
#Poetry #Poem #Pastoral #Necropastoral #MetaModernism #Transrealism #NewSublimity #NewRomanticism #AmericanDream #Cinemism #Existentialism #Surrealism #NegativeCapability #NewGnosticism #MetaRealism #NewTranscendentalism #Astarism