Grand Event To Play
© Surazeus
2026 04 05

Flowing on away into evening light
that floats suspended in green glowing leaves,
my memories dissolve to empty scenes
of passion for the grand event to play
in huge museum on the river shore,
crowded with white statues of long-dead gods.

I love graceful goddess who has no face
because she understands the gift of life
encasing light of stars in frame of flesh
urged by desire to procreate its soul
which glows inside weird tangle of my brain
with scenes of their achievements to survive.

When shy Psyche visits garden of pears
to find the language of her aching heart
she buried under hollow stone of hope,
she finds me holding darkness in my hand
so she gives it wings to escape my mouth,
then takes my hand and smiles with knowingness.

Water of Heaven flows out of my eyes
so I drink laughter of the flashing stream
where swirling portal to infinity
reveals strange beauty of this spinning globe
that nurtures my body with starry breath
even as I dwindle to silent books.

My hungry spirit of barbarity
will vanish into clocks of factories
contrived by wizards of the wingless horse
to build ten million time machines of fate
so I can drive from sea to shining sea
just fast enough to almost escape death.

Haunted by indifferent Nature of change,
I cobble new narrative for my life
by stringing random events in taut thread
that twangs from magic touch of Orpheus
to make sense from harsh events I endure
that seems to give my journey some grand goal.

Sweet dissonance of clashing purposes
reveals ambitious strategies for growth
contrary to oppression of the state
that crushes honest people under plots
designed to figure characters from tales
who choose the lighthouse as clandestine fate.

Unraveling years of our weightless curse
expands dim consciousness of signal lights
that flash through gloom of swirling alphabets
toward which we sail on fractured view of truth
with brave intention to restore from ruin
abandoned temple of the laughing god.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus sits around all day in his quaint suburban house, refusing to participate in grand events to play role of the psychopomp in insane times.

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