Alpine Celts Of Luck
© Surazeus
2026 08 05

If I should register fate of the coup
in conspiracy to banish the devil
who thinks our world should be his precious oyster,
I shall arrive at the housewarming party
with gift designed from shadows of desire
which no haughty angel could memorize.

I cannot save the house my words have built
except to fold its photographs with care
and store them in ephemera archives
so I can almost maintain balanced stillness
through equal standing of Samasthiti
since I will only fight the greedy devil.

Ascendant rhetoric of the art film
provides framework through ideology
to maintain distance from the painful truths
we use to disidentify our friends
who dwell in natural lightning of dark storms
that loom black over small towns of our hopes.

I hear song of the rattlesnake at dusk
when I stroll casually in desert storm
to prove my nation is superior
with ice cream designed by social critique
because our bodies must adapt or die
when devils trick us to buy faith in God.

Stuck on the Low Road back to Fairyland,
I hide my Wings of Icarus to walk
the mist-enshrouded shores of Loch Lomond
where Amanita mushrooms glowing red
sprout from huge corpses of iron-age kings
till Pythagoras measures unseen minds.

Since I support awareness of the world,
though trapped in idol Pygmalion sculpts,
I untwist sorrows from my wounded heart
as writhing threads of alabaster snakes
to mold eccentric spheres of swirling light
that flash with signals of social success.

While watching Hercules with tangled hair
wrestle the monstrous demon of his heart,
I see the Golden Lion of the Sun
expand as emanation from his brain
so his brave sons, the Alpine Celts of Luck,
establish Empire of the Seven Hills.

While strolling around lake near Mount Takoma,
I notice the watch I wear on my wrist
has transformed into the white raven quill
which I employ to compose epic tale
about ancient philosophers whose ideas
form foundation of our global world view.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus wanders among the ruins of the Forum in Rome and weeps with sorrow at the long-ago passing of the humble people of his mountain tribe.

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