Chronicle Weird Happenings
© Surazeus
2025 12 25

If I cannot prevent my star-beam soul
from falling into thick material pool
so I get stuck animating this brain,
then I shall dance naked on castle lawn
till the mad king returns my angel wings
so I can chronicle weird happenings.

Quiet doubts slither with serpentine grace
through unconscious mirror of earnestness
though fear unsettles equilibrium
between dual lives of wokeness and dream
which filters theories with deceptive truths
that leave me stranded on alternate paths.

Conceptual happiness of noble pride
through subconscious computers devils hide
imply I sojourn with reflective faith
in candle-lit cathedral built with math
where I conceal strange version of the truth
composed of summer dawns in ancient myth.

No commonplace surroundings of blank skies
allow my fractured brain to recognize
amazing person with electric soul
who plays with wonderment her special role
against popular opinion of fate
because we prefer to dwell on our boat.

Contingent on what gods pretend to mean,
our noble cause electrifies wild rain
to urge complacent people with the sword
who misperceive prophecies of the bard
that foretell how our world empire will fall
at slant of light in grand cathedral hall.

Due to confident loneliness of hope
when I drive too fast down the mountain slope
I crash into wise tree of divine power,
then crawl burning to consume the dream flower
till I find myself stuck at blunt impasse
between the locked door and the broken glass.

Because everything that has ever been
is only real because it has been seen,
I hide sacred truths in brave heart of birds
who scatter seeds of thought in humming words
that bloom from graves of insignificance
with transitory splendor of the fence.

Soul veiled with shining aura of regret
that I still love daughter of Baphomet,
I sell private feelings in market stall
derived from wisdom of the forest well
so I inhabit all your different worlds
with sadness that inspires me to live free.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/12/…

Orpheus brings basket of fruit to Baphomet, old woman in black lace dress, who beams with pleasure as he plays gothic melodies on the lyre of Mercury.

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