Fruit We Steal From Fate
© Surazeus
2025 08 12

This is no time for the dead to sing hymns
that guide the living to the afterthought
where apples dangle luridly on limbs
which interlace strange temples devils sought
when they tore off masks of humanity
in revelation of the forlorn toad.

Yet we will gather on the river shore
and tell each other we are still alive,
then give each other fruit we steal from fate
to seal concentric progress of the gate
which keeps our garden safe from hungry thieves
who search all night for where the Mermaid lives.

The special people with divine god-bones
perform dramatic anguish of their lives
while we who crawl in dirt to read white stones
cater to all their needs in servitude,
except the jester with the attitude
who juggles television tubes and knives.

What new event of shocking certitude
could I declare with statements forged from truth
except that humans live in fantasies
constructed firm from holophrastic lies,
designed to twist our brains in rainbow spires
so we sing ancient songs in holy choirs.

Reluctant to let go mask of my pride,
which still protects my heart from insolence,
I open front door of my humble home
and shout at clouds about their random swirls
because I am invention of smart girls
who shaped my personality from mud.

Thus I object with sly impertinence
to hostile arrogance disguised with smiles
when Fear admonishes me with snarky sneers
that I should be absolute for sweet Death
through reason of influence from blank skies
as fool nursed by baseness of valiance.

Since we exist on countless thousand grains
that issue out of dust lit by sunbeams,
we should not strive to gain more than we need
when our complexions shift to strange effects
caused by desire to journey beyond time
as effusions springing from frantic brains.

Dreaming of my youth that slips long away
in palsied state of wisdom bought with pain,
I sell my beauty to affective fate
denoting disturbance of mental mood
through expression of primary respect
trapped in relentless sentence of fake words.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/08/…

Orpheus frees the young woman from the prison cell where she rejected blackmail by the prison ward to free people she loves from prison of fear for nothingness of death.

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