Music Of My Wounded Heart
Music Of My Wounded Heart
© Surazeus
2025 05 28
Extravagant music of my wounded heart
finetunes apples ripening in my brain
which programs how my hands scroll light of faith
in perfect hymn from my ethereal breath
that causes trees to dance in ecstasy
in psychic harmony with surprised rain.
Duration of music in waves of time
measures unmoving distance from the past
reflected in the future I would see
in silent hallway of my optic scope
by which my mind perceives the unnamed world
cluttered with fuzzy objects of contempt.
I wonder if each object I perceive,
that moves through volition of mute desire,
is operated by conceptual soul
which animates its time-bound body well
to sing in harmony with water flow
when the moon in the trees speaks to my heart.
Immediacy of darkness sparks awake
my suddenly cautious mind in respect
of fierce attention to shadowy thoughts
that lurk in doorway of the everywhere
which grants admission to my naked heart
for eating laughter of the rotten fruit.
Gone far beyond the edge of somewhere else
with tenuous knowledge of why rain explodes,
I touch the flexible opening of light
despite soft comfort of untrammeled time
when I suffer sorrowing tone of death
born from consummate face of the whole world.
When falling leaves of time scream in the void
that cracks window of silence with false words,
I run with frantic laughter of despair
through empty houses where faceless ghosts type
beautiful stories of romantic trysts
that drag my heart into the modern world.
Sharp sound of death explodes from happy graves
as ghosts that cause rotting leaves to ballet
across abyss of voiceless honesty
too swift for children who play chase in rain
beside long highway full of broken cars
that envy horses grazing in lush fields.
While she drives down desert highway of skulls
I film the scenery with my psychic phone
while leaning out the open window, eyes
recording everything that should exist
as names in volume of forgotten lore
that lies unread on sand ten thousand years.
surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/05/…
Orpheus films the scenery while Ophelia drives their van across the desert to the Buddhist retreat in the lonely mountains.
#Poetry #Poem #Pastoral #Necropastoral #MetaModernism #Transrealism #NewSublimity #NewRomanticism #AmericanDream #Cinemism #Existentialism #Surrealism #NegativeCapability #NewGnosticism #MetaRealism #NewTranscendentalism #Astarism