If I Am Someone Else
© Surazeus
2026 07 15

Shocked by thought-executing fires of hope
that mold rotundity of Earth from words
stolen by ravens from dark river shores,
I charge subscription of strange elements
that crack calm confidence in mindless truth
with earnest plan to assert dominance.

Careless regression from pastoral states
of mind, contrived by articles of faith,
contracts expansive scope of innocence
smaller than the measuring spoon of time
by which I scoop conceptual nonchalance
with vague obsession of planless progress.

Time seems to readjust intense display
of prowess I project with neutral stance
where I determine, through unseen design,
to stand my ground against unnatural force
that cracks foundation of our social state
so we fend for ourselves in silent woods.

Perhaps one thousand years of waterfalls
have now eroded jagged mountain peaks
down to wind-rounded hills of smooth regret,
dispersing spirit of the heart on silver lake
where ghosts of snowflakes swirl in summer haze
till they become cranes of adjacent charm.

Though I have journeyed on the rugged trail
through seasonal blasts of hostile intent,
when I reach the door where my best friend dwells
I pause to savor with intense respect
urgent passion to travel, now fulfilled,
then turn around and travel home again.

Exhausted by attempts to reach the moon
on tattered wings of hope Icarus lost,
I stretch description of my faceless soul
inert on throbbing surface of broken rocks,
cluttered in seething globe of timeless change,
till I wonder if I am someone else.

Disassembled brain of dream-powered gears,
that oscillates between time-tangling poles,
programs itself to change how it perceives
reality through weird framework of tales
derived from fractured memories of ghosts
who vehemently deny they are dead.

Though I once ran swift as the long-maned horse
along winding stream of advanced degrees,
in courageous plan to transcend frail frame
of passion-filtered reverence, my soul
expends excessive energy of faith
to evade fate that laughs with tender love.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/07/…

Orpheus wanders in mind-altering fever of excessive concern for snowflakes that unfall in pulsing heat of summer evening in silent hills of faint hope.

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