Pennies Of Cloned Hearts
© Surazeus
2025 11 29

Though she sleeps now in shadows of my heart
the brilliant light of her eyes luminates
silent emptiness of our secret home
with complex beauty of shared memories
framed by our love as portraits on vast walls
that animate events of our romance.

While reading novel in soft-cushioned chair,
she chews sweet white raisins with slender fingers
in slow contemplation of eager hope
which motivates the heart of every human
to trust the stranger with attractive smile
for secret treasure of their trusting heart.

When she finds the last penny in the world
gleaming brightly on the cement sidewalk,
she pinches purity of its stored worth
with practical respect for usefulness
based on assurance of prized benefits
we gain by saving profit through esteem.

When she assesses estimated cost
of vain deficiency appraised as fake,
opposed to strict advantage by exchange
from standard principles for purchasers,
she treasures merit earned by crafting hands
that found grand empires on capital gains.

Emergent artists trapped in maze of wealth
decry obsessive passion to create
excessive beauty from randomized objects
collected from heaps of discarded hopes
that old men sell for pennies of cloned hearts
to wives of farmers who befriend pond toads.

At eerie howl of monsters in dark woods
she feeds ripe apple to the wingless horse
whose milk funds castle project to design
ascendant phase of educating growth
for children to learn mysteries of the Earth
when they inherit globe of pulsing ghosts.

Connected through throbbing node of prime words,
our radiant brains adapt new global themes
to maintain noble purpose broadcast well
when we accommodate pure friends we love
through quick adjustment our typewriters reel
if we would comprehend how souls are born.

When she wakes from bright shadows of my heart
on opposite side of our spinning globe,
she guides hawk of my soul with gentle grace
to visit tomb of her mother at dawn,
and weeps at loss of treasured revenant
whose absence gleams as ghost of sacred love.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/11/…

Orpheus hugs Ophelia as she weeps at tomb of her mother Eurydice in Elysian Fields by the River Styx.

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