Crowded Streets Of Life
Crowded Streets Of Life
© Surazeus
2026 03 28
Rebirth of angels from body of flesh
transforms the population of our world
from manic robots of aggressive hope
to celestial choirs of respectful clones
who dissipate to mist at flash of dawn
when I wake from sweet dreams of paradise.
Shocked from complacent attitude of faith
by constant annihilation of souls
through war, famine, disease, and rot of age,
I gaze with loving awe at every soul
I see while walking crowded streets of life,
heart aching to treasure each divine mind.
We are pure flashing energy of light
congealed in frail organic form of thought
as atoms attempting to wake as God
through conscious vision of our dreaming brains
in neural nets of memory-storage nodes
that refract divine concept of Star Mind.
Through metaphysical concepts of love,
that portray essence emanating bright
from material machines of chemicals,
I seek to express transcendental truth
based firm on building blocks of verity,
for our conscious souls will perish at death.
Relaxed on wood bench before city hall,
I observe strangers, wearing uniforms
of social status, stride with calm intent
of business to attend inherent needs
concerning social strategies of power,
leaves of flesh tossed by mindless winds of fate.
Each individual face with special features,
specific to ancestral strife to grow,
presents elastic mask of mental will
which replicates mythical characters
whose spirits replay dramas of their lives
in stories left unread in ancient books.
I see detailed on vast map of your face
journey of your ancestors across time
that codes how their souls navigate despair
long enough to generate child of hope
who continues endless journey of faith
to find the Promised Land of fantasies.
Though we are wingless angels of the wind,
contained in organic bodies of flesh
for our brief journey on this spinning globe,
we live forever in names carved on stone
though we become dirt roots of trees imbibe
to bloom as fruit which our descendants eat.
surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/03/…
Orpheus invents names and stories for every stranger he sees walking past as he lounges all day on the bench as homeless buddha of capitalist desire.
#Poetry #Poem #Pastoral #Necropastoral #MetaModernism #Transrealism #NewSublimity #NewRomanticism #AmericanDream #Cinemism #Existentialism #Surrealism #NegativeCapability #NewGnosticism #MetaRealism #NewTranscendentalism #Astarism