Blithely Down The Street
© Surazeus
2025 10 28

I want to wander blithely down the street
past people whose names I will never know,
for I will never see when they were born,
nor will I see them die and turn to dust,
so every person I meet in the maze
is the beautiful ghost glowing in mist.

Awake in conclave of maples at dawn,
I tend the crackling fire in ring of stones
while horses trace with humble tails of hope
love-guilty roads invested with dark vibes
from words etched jaggedly on sublime trunks
too expensive for the poor to buy peace.

Acquainted with mad passion of the mind,
smeared sweet with honey rainbow lies of fate,
I paint errant visions on window glass
to map strict education in cracked moons
out of proportion to pictures of gods
depicting nothing we keep for ourselves.

Normal perversions twisting chocolate cakes
expose Medusa eating sausages
beneath wind-fluttered willow leaves of faith
to prove that wishful thinking deceives hearts
with wordless feelings if displaced respect
soon rises from deep ocean of dead gods.

No peaceful period of butterflies bears
subtraction of faith from thunderous thoughts
better than hour our glorious empire falls
from plain incompetence of selfish greed,
so we attend picnics in the state park
regardless of who steals more from our hearts.

Collective presence of registered gods
feels different from that time of broken clocks
when mothers mold their children from fake words
by teaching them to transform wretched stones
to screws Hephaestus forges from god bones
till light translates lake of dreams to eyes.

Suspicious nature of our naive hearts
concords alliance with dismissive kings
through misunderstanding of native songs
ratified with tenuous concepts of faith
reflecting self we choose to confiscate
when nourishing togetherness in death.

Askance perception of variant facts,
superimposed by divine relevance,
ensures generic threads of ardent time
contrived from chaos of orderly hope
that multiplies our bodies from dry dirt
which leaves me stumbling blindly down the street.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/10/…

Orpheus wanders blithely down the street of every city in the world, taking photographs of every person still alive, and writes their stories in the book of fate.

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