Tide Of Historical Change
© Surazeus
2025 11 18

When tide of historical change recedes
after terrible storm of tyranny,
I find myself gasping on sand of despair,
so I breathe deep ethereal ghost of hope
and laugh at boggy horror in my brain
to make myself the monster I most fear.

Loquacious gods of arrogant dismay
teach me to measure landscape of the brain
so I express disaster through my play
with fraught dynamics of dependent joy
that duplicates my spirit in each mind
trapped in lush garden of the holocaust.

No genesis of birth is guaranteed
based on logistics woven from fake dreams
we share through ministry of urgent chance
that Mercury assigns to patriots
who sell permission to profess proud guilt
for hiding despicable attitudes.

Impulsive laughter about nothing real
jiggles piercing gaze of ardent hope
for blind voyeurs who creep in paradise,
immersed in fierce performance that conceals
fascinating opinions of foul thoughts
that crack glass shields of innocent contempt.

With the lighthouse keeper she falls in love
based on environs of the churching world
lit by attentive beams of cautiousness
which modulates danger of vigilance
based on casual whimsy of mocking tones
before death germinates from rotten hearts.

Not knowing well how gasping will of fate
could flash truth-twisting wisdom into lies
may now confound how well I play this game
by which I trick believers to expect
their crucified god will return again
to enforce justice with the lightning sword.

She loves each saint who shines their holy light
on brutal ugliness that smears this world
with honest horror of absent desire
through pointless project to paint surfaces
of mirror masks with features of my face
so you can trust that thoughts I speak are true.

To cleanse abomination of his heart
with quaint forgiveness that arrogates bridge
on which we cross in fog of urgent prayers,
she gives him everything inside her heart
till he consumes excessive randomness
before he drowns in restless tide of change.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/11/…

Orpheus floats on his back on tides of historical change because no human can control which way social energy sweeps our bodies in flood of desire.

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