Code Of Our Zeitgeist
Code Of Our Zeitgeist
© Surazeus
2026 02 28
If unexpected laughter breaks the door
white rabbit of wisdom will ask for more,
but you request I play the fountain fool,
so I hide in light to invent the tool
fallen angels use to heal us with hope
despite unspooling anguish of the rope.
Yet someone strange lurks in evening shade,
so I stand surprised where the book was laid
three thousand years of people walking past
till my eighth cousin asks the join the cast,
so I draw the gun on theater stage
to shoot the darkness of innocent rage.
Startled by blast of the lost prairie train,
I count every drop of the midnight rain
where gray smoke curls from the haughty cigar
so I erase my ghost from the speeding car
before last bottle of liquor is drunk
at flash of lightning in the stolen trunk.
Regret defines my journey to the west
with nothing but photos in the cracked chest
so I stop in the small country town to ask
old librarian to sell me her mask,
but she serves honey-ginger tea instead
and explains why her sweet daughter is dead.
Though forty years flash by in sudden twist
where I play role of the ventriloquist,
I drive to the bank in Beverly Hills
with no intention of paying my bills,
because ancient willow witch knows my name
since she it was who trapped me with world fame.
Before the camera with elegant grace
I play starship captain of outer space
who saves her crew from demon of the world
where enormous dragons of time lie curled,
till Beowulf asks me to marry him
so I adopt as pet his gold-eyed Grim.
Beside the fountain of Neptune in Rome
we talk about where to build our new home,
while planes sent by kings in gray business suits
bomb the museum where devils play flutes,
so I stare at painting of Phoebus Christ
who tries to program code of our zeitgeist.
If long-expected marriage of true minds
occurs in glass cathedral no one finds,
I may ask Tiresias for a discount
to purchase freedom with my bank account,
but someone declares the old king is dead,
so I eat fried egg on slice of rye bread.
surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…
Orpheus interviews the movie star at her home full of antiques in Rome whose eyes dart nervously as she smokes the last cigarette of fate.
#Poetry #Poem #Pastoral #Necropastoral #MetaModernism #Transrealism #NewSublimity #NewRomanticism #AmericanDream #Cinemism #Existentialism #Surrealism #NegativeCapability #NewGnosticism #MetaRealism #NewTranscendentalism #Astarism