Fragile Boats Of Hope
Fragile Boats Of Hope
© Surazeus
2026 07 19
The world river of life flows from my heart
to fill abyss of fear with sea of love
so we can sail our fragile boats of hope
across the surging waves of honesty
home from sacking towers of Ilium
where trees of truth bloom from corpses of gods.
The graceful goddess of my consciousness,
who glides among fruit trees on the broad shore,
stoops low to scoop with dipper of her heart
memories humans relinquish in cold tears
to quench her thirst for feelings we discard
which swells her heart with love for every soul.
The full moon floats in branches of tall trees,
exposed to conscious gaze of my bruised heart
while blazing with azure uncanniness
as sacred treasure every human shares,
while restless ocean waves of ancient hopes
leave fragments of our dreams on silent beach.
The psychic refuge of my broken dreams
blurs pungent feeling from my stage of being
so wordless thoughts of innocent desire
ripple silver stipples across my mind
as eyes through adequate obscurity
because I suffer sea change in my heart.
Because that is not what I mean at all,
I might be missing whatever I am,
so I declare with certainty of faith
that I am nobody, and so are you,
escaping one-eyed monster of despair,
since now I am not what I am, I think.
Incompetent to speak of who I am,
alone in space of timeless solitude,
I fashion new persona mask to wear
so I become the person I would be,
bold shadow slithering swift across the ground
which measures fragile fullness of my being.
Each moment I am real in flesh of time
flares up as match of psychic energy
transforming me from fish to singing god
defined by whorl of flashing water flow
that vibrates at thunderous crack of faith
from storm cloud rumbling over mountain peaks.
I rise from Stygian pool of wounded hearts
when I compose coherent narrative
from ensemble of social anecdotes,
recording heroic deeds of dead men
who programmed how our brains perceive the world
as forms of atoms molded from ideas.
surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/07/…
Orpheus stands before the Astarium and gives copies of Hermead Epic of Philosophers to people walking past on the busy city street.
#Poetry #Poem #Pastoral #Necropastoral #MetaModernism #Transrealism #NewSublimity #NewRomanticism #AmericanDream #Cinemism #Existentialism #Surrealism #NegativeCapability #NewGnosticism #MetaRealism #NewTranscendentalism #Astarism