Wild Carmanian Waste
© Surazeus
2026 08 26

Mother of this great globe that teems with life,
whose psychic energy through human brains
strives to wake mortal souls with cautious sight
of faith in what our minds perceive, reveal
pure essence of atoms in frames of matter
so I feel your divine mind in my soul.

Since obstinate questionings about life,
delivered by the faceless ghost of earnest hope
embodied by the laughing messenger,
drive me beyond walls of religious creeds,
I render brave mission to comprehend
engine that motivates my quest for truth.

Twilight phantasms glowing in my dreams
spark me to fine-tune taut lyre of my heart
so breath of our First Mother plays quick tune
of wisdom across matrix of my brain,
expressed as solemn hymn of honesty
which charms no other heart on Earth but mine.

Since charmed eddies of autumnal winds form
mound of forgetful leaves over my skull,
which sings wordless prophecies about death,
I sing in solitude of wind-blown trees
surreal fantasies through weird melodies
which gleam as lamp that guides my earnest steps.

Nurtured by solemn visions of soul growth
at fountain of divine philosophy
that radiates in ambient air from lush Earth,
I seek strange truths in undiscovered lands
where city mazes of steel-framed glass towers
mushroom from meadows where my fathers farmed.

Far from the tangled wilderness of hope,
where my ancestors built havens of peace,
I cradle secure sense of solitude
while roaming streets of rainbow-chasing crowds
among glass towers of commercial wealth
constructed on ruins of ancient temples.

No longer lost in wild Carmanian waste,
where boat of my exploratory heart
lies beached on shifting sands of certitude,
I keep mute conference with my dream-hexed soul
to translate spells of anguish blind ghosts howl
so passing strangers stop to hear my song.

That spectral soul as spirit of our times,
whom I encounter at the desolate tomb
of our cultural god, opens cyber wings,
designed by Icarus, and teaches me
secret of composing truth-riddled verse
with Cassandra Code to guide the lost home.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus finds the spirit of Alastor wandering the wild Carmanian waste, so he gives him beef sandwich and root beer to eat as they picnic at sunset.

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