Quick Atoms Of Time
© Surazeus
2026 03 07

Paid by the hour to invent clever lies,
I mow dusty lawn of my glass moon house
beneath uncanny sky of innocent whisps
that swirl from sparkles of typewriter keys
while I study ancient Little Red Dots
that gleam one billion years at dawn of time.

Bare gray trees wait for bells of hope to ring
but no one in the oak-wood suburb speaks
about the ghost horse with emerald eyes
that haunts the car-less streets on afternoons
when butterflies transform into old books
unread by children till the end of time.

Behind every locked door on silent streets
faceless women hide from arrogant men
who fight each other in world cyberwars
till safe temples and schools in distant lands
are blasted by the microphones of hate
which leaves souls twisted by the curse of time.

Early spring rain of the gold-shadowed sun
drenches houses in towns of rolling hills
where no nymphs or satyrs have ever played
because they wander stuck in glowing screens
as ghosts of fairy tales no one believes
so we go to work in the nick of time.

Sun gleams gold in raindrops on window glass,
refracting spirits of eight billion brains
in wordless whirl of shimmer-shattered myths
too neatly packaged and labeled in stores
for purchase with the credit card of faith
that startles me awake at flash of time.

Concerned about the state of politics
unspooling principles of sacred laws,
old half-blind jester of the castle court
lounges in library of melting books
and laughs at dissolution of world views
disassembled by quick atoms of time.

No quirky character of mental mirth
appears from patriotic fog of war,
except for cruel knight of the dented axe
who throws his shining armor in the dirt
and shoots brave angels with rifle of fear
to oppose strict democracy of time.

Rude riddles of unruly rectitude
recalibrate our world colonial state
when Midas and Nebuchadnezzar fight
world war over who owns oil wells of power,
and will marry Rapunzel in gold tower
whose lamentation unwinds clock of time.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/03/…

Orpheus strums lyre of Mercury and sings prophecies with Isaiah as if every day where the last day of the world apocalypse.

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