Unclose Door Of Fate
© Surazeus
2026 10 17

Though time flows out of my exploding eyes
to fill vast maze of city streets with souls
emerging from old wrinkled photographs,
I wake at shock of ocean consciousness
as human cactus singing by the pole
about how skulls form mountain peaks of truth.

Lithe ocean fish wind unclock of my self
with tangled laughter of passionate words
through unmechanical respect for fear
that spurs progression of my blooming brain
which soaks strange memories of frantic dreams
escaping brains of people around town.

As broad-winged signet of heraldic pride
I leap with swan-grace on percussive wind
to float with swirling angel of gold clouds,
convinced brave magic vibrates from my hands
that flush redeeming flames of holy love
from murmuring cars of electric fame.

Struck by obsessive blink of traffic lights,
I stand ten thousand years in the crosswalk
to count lost angels of the fractured street
who search for sorrow of the store glass door
wide open to soft tinkling bells of hope
that upend social conventions with greed.

Blind city ghost on balcony of faith
plays rusty saxophone of arrogance
that reshapes vast dimension of our brains
with sacred creed of rotten references,
desecrated by dead rose of her heart
because she tries to unclose door of fate.

Dressed in bright colors of the morning scream
that twist fake books in riddles of glass film,
she tells the boy she loves that he appears
to be her Babylonian Adonis
who dies in anguish when he tries to rise
from half-torn photograph of body-lust.

My racehorse never reaches goal of love
though I run forward into mist of change
forever flashing through telephone lines
that bind great chimneys of regretful brick
from which smoke of our words transcend our death
when we vote for the lonely bard of life.

Primeval memory of antiquity
writhes groaning from eccentric egg of lust
as brutal pioneer of psychic spells
whose frantic code of unmelodious song
goes on forever into sea of tears
where we sail boats of hope beyond the shore.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/10/…

Orpheus wanders lawns of the university in Berkeley where blind angels of poetry gather around the pulsing tower of fate to sing spells of love into the wordless wind.

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