Holy Apples Of The Sun
© Surazeus
2026 01 19

If I wake up from slumber of the sea,
hair muddy with invective of desire,
I slice tomatoes with sharp knife of fear
to walk in woodlands of the singing bear
who offers refuge to the crippled finch,
then asks if I can ever love again.

No strike of lightning startles me awake
yet I feel flash of whiteness in my eyes
so I touch cloud of fire with trembling hand
that spawns new angel in my aching heart
each time I draw weird meaning on the sand
in tangled words that might console the land.

Too awkward to remember words of faith,
I try to heal all broken things of time
but end up with large box of precious lies
contrived by faceless ghosts of everywhere
who strike my heart with guilt I cannot sell
though I dig fingers in moist soil of fate.

My black bones wriggle among roots of trees
each year I reinvent the alphabet
so we can write sad letters about hope
borne far in boats on restless waves of tears
because we hail from ancient land of skulls
which gleam in shallow lake of silver fish.

Old bearded man from hall of broken doors
places skulls of dead tyrants on the shelf
inside World Temple of the Laughing Skull
so we can hear their riddles about fate
encoded safe in solemn prophecies
about the most evil king in the world.

Cautious alertness of the apple girl,
who senses danger in how sparrows fly,
saves people of her city from attack
when they assemble on the river shore
and plot assassination of the thief
who crowns himself in castle court of greed.

Because we give each other secret names
our bodies thrive safe from insults of thieves
who spend their energy in frantic fear
while we tend fields of wheat and cabbages
since carrots sharpen vision of our eyes
according to blind woman by the well.

If I find holy apples of the sun
on sacred tree of demons with snake eyes,
I shall retrieve from cave of sparkling gems
sweet fruit that nurtures us with energy,
and leave them in rooms of people I love
so they can taste eternity of love.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus protects tree of knowledge that blooms with holy apples of the sun so Persephone can sell them in the town market square.

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