Keep Time In The Bottle
© Surazeus
2026 10 19

Since I never could keep time in the bottle
to trick eternity of every day
from passing away in the river flow,
all our precious days have slipped away swiftly,
and left us on the shore of wounded hope,
but still I treasure you with all my heart.

The box of wishes we kept in our hearts
has long been empty of forgotten dreams,
but we still cherish precious memories
that feed us with nutritious vows of love
we share as we stroll holding hands to find
mysterious meadow where we had first met.

Laughing wild with maniacal relief,
Jim throws old wood guitar in the black lake,
pretending he is King of Camelot
casting Excalibur to the Lake Lady,
then asks Ophelia to marry him
as she floats by clutching flowers of fate.

Mounting airplane with silver angel wings
that know sorrow Icarus tries to hide,
Jim soars aloft into the great wide open
where he seeks horse of wisdom in the egg
that spirals flashing big as galaxies
till he becomes the raven in the oak.

While dancing in the meadow on the urn,
painted by blind Sylvan historian,
Jim chases cheerful bride of quietness
across the broken dales of Arcady
till they fall down beside the well of tears
and laugh at absurdity of true love.

Bent over blank book of conceptual joy,
Jim writes new unheard melody of love
that no one still alive on Earth can hear
though he strums cracked guitar in ecstasy
and howls with wolves in meadows of the moon
to frighten mysterious priest of desire.

Stuck in cold pastoral of obsessive lust,
where Beauty runs forever out of reach,
Jim chronicles with runes on river stone
Weird Truth in writhing code of serpent eyes
through jokes that no one ever understands
though he dwells in the peaceful citadel.

Lounging in his basement room at midnight
as green rain soaks Seattle in weird tones,
Samuel plays heart-aching song about love
on the record play while smoking Dream Flower,
and writes his own song in black book of lies
because white ravens are government spies.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/10/…

Orpheus and Ophelia find Jim and John laughing together in the sylvan grove where angels dramatize the lyrics of their songs with playful joy of the lost.

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