Tricks Of The Astral Plane
Tricks Of The Astral Plane
© Surazeus
2025 09 03
Toward the furthest reaches of anywhere
beyond ultimate coldness of the heart,
Sylvia walks along car-busy roads
to buy eggs and milk at the grocery store,
aware that no one can see her real self
though they look at her with camera eyes.
Through fragile glass door of the grocery store
with vine-woven basket on her crooked arm,
Sylvia browses shelves of alien fruit
grown in dank jungle of the hungry ghost,
picking lemons, wheat flower, and gold pears
to cook fresh meal for Doctor Frankenstein.
Strange visions crowd her kaleidoscope eyes
with dancing demons of the lower chakra
that play nightmare tricks of the astral plane
to gather hellish forces of the mind
as squirming monsters of the snarling heart
that materialize from weird memories.
Amused at small red demon with gold eyes
and four sharp horns curling from its egg skull,
Sylvia hides snicker behind her hand
as Pazuzu hops about on sharp claws
and plays dirty antics on hapless shoppers
who shriek in surprise at the unseen sprite.
Walking back home with basket full of food
as the world vanishes in sunset glow,
Sylvia pauses on the rocky shore
to gaze at eerie shimmer of the moon
that tints clouds with unearthly silver light
above buildings of the town that gleam gold.
Alert with sudden shiver of stark fear
at something lurking in shadow of time,
Sylvia seems cute demon from the store
emerge from glow of moonlight on the tree
as tall gangly monster with bulging eyes
that reaches long thin arms to snatch her neck.
Patiently attentive to gusts of wind
that tangle precise reverence of respect,
Sylvia twirls around with leap of faith
to grab the rainbow sword of honesty
and slash mask of the demon with lithe care
when she smacks the man with oak walking stick.
Cautious at fraught error of holy ground
described in manifesto of the wise,
Sylvia calls police with her eye-phone
who arrest the bleeding man for assault,
then bakes pear pies with cinnamon and cloves
for her demon to eat before he dies.
surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…
Orpheus tells Sylvia how much he enjoyed the pie as they lounge on the front porch and watch people strolling in groups in the early evening glow beneath silver clouds of the apocalypse.
#Poetry #Poem #Pastoral #Necropastoral #MetaModernism #Transrealism #NewSublimity #NewRomanticism #AmericanDream #Cinemism #Existentialism #Surrealism #NegativeCapability #NewGnosticism #MetaRealism #NewTranscendentalism #Astarism