Lost In Fake Tomorrows
Lost In Fake Tomorrows
© Surazeus
2025 12 14
While young girl plays sweet melody of sorrow
on heart-aching strings of the violin,
I ponder why, when I express despair
through tangled threads of arrogant dismay,
I win grand prizes for anxiety,
rewarded for how bitterly I scream.
Old gray-haired man in room of shining windows
traps joyful sprites in cores of mandolins
played by blind troubadours at country fairs
whose music leads the lost through crowded maze
where idols worshipped by societies
come alive as puppets in secret dreams.
As young boy stares at keys of huge piano,
to breathe deep spirit of its harmony,
his heart transforms to swan of ardent faith
that guides him from Tuonela to his home
where he attends to faceless ghost of sound,
then plays heart-breaking tune of secret love.
Old sad-eyed woman of the weeping willows
frees crippled slaves from social tyrannies
who preach salvation sold by stellar wraiths
in brave rebellion against righteous domes
built by warriors buried in high mounds
studied by archaeologists with gloves.
If tired mother cries at song of the sparrow
that flutters wings of hope in cage of fate,
mad jester driving full delivery truck
abandons capitalist money game
to meditate outside the mountain cave
while she washes dishes and clothes all day.
Yet angry father, lost in fake tomorrows,
decides to return from fixing house gates
to find his home possessed by playful Pucks
commissioned by Oberon to steal names
and organize roles of newly-freed slaves
who perform boat races on sunlit bays.
Mike counts red chickens by the red wheelbarrow
glazed with rainwater after the sea storm,
then boils one in the pot on Christmas Eve
for his children to feast before they die
of starvation in Land of Liberty
while singing hymns to Savior of the World.
Jane spends all night assembling perfect arrows
that Janus needs while guarding Realm of Forms,
then cooks chicken soup for blind queen who grieves
death of Apollo with electric eyes
who tried to lift mankind from poverty
with help from gang of self-appointed heralds.
surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/12/…
Orpheus knocks on doors that never open to sell Encyclopedia of World Knowledge to lonely housewives who follow him to the Land of Liberty.
#Poetry #Poem #Pastoral #Necropastoral #MetaModernism #Transrealism #NewSublimity #NewRomanticism #AmericanDream #Cinemism #Existentialism #Surrealism #NegativeCapability #NewGnosticism #MetaRealism #NewTranscendentalism #Astarism