Database Of Our Brains
© Surazeus
2025 07 01

Though loveliness increases from our joy,
all things of beauty with treasure of love
pass into nothingness from change of time,
except that ideas of things we dream
persist forever in their perfect state,
recorded in database of our brains.

Through gray cluttered streets of the city maze,
heart heavy with despondence of mute gloom,
I search landscape of vast inhuman Earth
for shapes of beauty glowing in the sky
that dispel pall of fear with timeless glow
so our spirits shine with our calm respect.

Emerging from grandeur of mortal doom,
she asks me if I want to hear her tale
detailing struggles of her aching heart
to strive against fierce obstacles of hate
and transcend limitations of framed flesh
by drinking from endless fountain of truth.

Yet everlasting universe of things,
still flowing in waves of objective truth
through hollow cavern of our hungry hearts,
lends splendor to the source of human thought
where we attend new pilgrimage with faith
on mission to measure the swift river flow.

After picking fruit at street-market stalls,
that gleam red as the dragon blood of faith,
I find my cat, stretched on book of world tales,
savoring warm glow of sunlight on her fur,
so I string fairy lights in apple trees
to claim power of crystals for my eyes.

No horses or eagles live in the stone
that shimmers white and smooth on river shore
with precious beauty of abandoned fears
that angels weave into weird mask I wear
so I can live in this confusing world
detached from material nature of things.

She asks to borrow my blossom of time
so I stay still and silent on the hill
till sparkling frost of moonless solitude
prickles bright with sorrow around my heart
that lies as stone on river shore of faith
where fishermen ponder everythingness.

Though we stand on the precipice of fate,
we are not yet at the end of the Earth,
so we repeat our journey beyond fear
to never reach the destiny we choose,
for we are wanderers on signless roads
forever trapped in fractured fantasy.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus listens to fishermen explain the everythingness of objects we perceive as pulsing formulas of colorful thought.

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