First Wordless Song
© Surazeus
2026 03 27

When I wake in marble temple of fire
after searching the world for angel wings,
I hear first wordless song of aching hope
ring out from voices of your nameless souls
who wander lost on signless road of fear
after your homes are bombed to memories.

Frantic with urgency in will to live
that drives my body forth in graceful dance,
I express first wordless song of despair
to evade horror of unending death
when burning stones, that fall from silver sky
of mocking crows, smash our homes into dust.

If ghost of wisdom from the glowing cloud
descends to Earth on vast demonic wings,
I dream first wordless song of bitter truth
that mask of Narcissus hides my real face
with holy shimmer of aesthetic faith
defined by Sibyl in tower of bones.

Though Humble Gardener of the Faceless God
orders chaos of lust in garden grove,
I compose first wordless song of respect
for Mountain Prophetess in Cave of Dreams
who speaks with many voices of the world
to translate sorrow into psalms of faith.

Hidden in small house with infinite books
about how Newton measures gravity,
I drink first wordless song of apple wine
spiced with cinnamon of angelic brains
because the Earth is cracked in thirteen worlds
controlled by Nebuchadnezzar and Lear.

Shocked with obvious insight about how
religions are fan clubs of mortal gods,
I translate first wordless song into jokes
earnest priests preach in cathedral halls
to prove their Lord will someday rule the world
because they try to kill everyone else.

Seared by wrath of the electric storm god
who bombs cities of angels with contempt,
I forge first wordless song into airplane
which I fly high above gold glowing clouds
to find palace of Heaven built of crystal stones
where I find nothing but eternity.

Almost reaching Heaven with trembling hand
which exists nowhere but in my sponge brain,
I record first wordless song in weird spells
as mirror that refracts ideas of things
which spring from seeds with no purpose of being
except anxious fear which sparks me to sing.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/03/…

Orpheus lands his plane on the dirt runway near small town of Keene in Texas where his grandson Homer asks him to teach him how to sing and fly.

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