Weird Knowing Of The Fall
© Surazeus
2025 06 14

When bell of my soul tolls from words of truth
I tread the solitary ground of shaking sense
with hollow beating of my endless steps
from treading broken landscape of my heart
to find wrecked silence in dry river bed
uncertain at weird knowing of the fall.

Dream space expands so far beyond my skull
I float in dizzy swirl of frantic fright,
fraught with fragments of wordless unconcern
too late to catch the swiftly flying thought
escaping strangeness of reasonable fate
that finishes rite of the funeral game.

Yet solar lanterns of the midnight play
disperse reluctant ghosts from doorless homes
at shocking breath of malevolent hills
based on enormous pride of ransomed hope
if sly cat on the sill retrieves the moon
soon enough for silver clouds of respect.

Attending protest of the fascist king,
the falcon rips off paper masks of frauds
to expose selfish greed of oligarchs
who steal keys to the kingdom of the mad
without up so floating many bells down
since no one attends parade of the clown.

With soul frail as candle flame in the wind
I exercise constitutional right
to play role of the blind philosopher
when I stop hijackers on the star ship
from blowing up my planet with their thoughts
so I can eat steak for dinner in peace.

When millions gather on the beach to pray
for victory of Justice over greed,
the petty tyrant in fake uniform
struts up and down the street with plastic gun,
declaring we should obey his commands
till his rage runs out of battery juice.

The man who builds our houses with strong hands
strolls down the avenue of weeping trees
at tolling of the sad cathedral bell
when all the children of the world return
from walking in bleak desert of the snake
to bring home treasure of the dreamless cave.

I wear the shining crown of charity
that glitters with jeweled eyes of dead gods
so I can prophesy fall of the king
who tumbles head-first off the Berlin Wall
nine days and nine nights on grief-tattered winds
through sacrifice that saves humanity.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/06/…

Orpheus talks to the desert snake with language of ocean waves to explain why wingless angels pretend to fly.

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