Chapel Of My Heart
© Surazeus
2025 05 10

When my thoughts become stairs of molten glass
I climb so my footsteps sing honey blood
that feeds blind ghosts who unroll tinsel wings
and whisper secrets to shape jagged leaves
for horse made of clocks who devours the sky
then rests inside the chapel of my heart.

Each time I meet my self on signless road,
as statue forged from light of turbid words,
my hands design new paper gods of faith
for lonely children with butterfly feet
to hide divinity inside their bones
because the moon ballets on broken roofs.

Despite how seabeds fashioned from silk clouds
reflect horse souls of newspaper and blood,
shy Gabriel types tales on turtle shells
with ink of peach juice bleeding from our eyes
which crack as eggshells at song of the sea
so flocks of clocks glide bright in bitter dusk.

He finds glass tower where Rapunzel waits
for mirror god to ride steel horse of gears
and bring her violin from muddy swamp
so she can play sweet elegies of hope
that raise the dead from blurry photographs
who ask the bronze crow why she never cries.

Despite insurance purchased by the clown
the asphalt alligator dials my brain
though I chant futile liturgy of dust
to trap the arrogant through promises
they translate back from static of law codes
distorted by the forest fog of faith.

Before confession of the laughing cow,
dragged down by gushing river of fake thoughts,
the River Walker drinks wine of despair
shaped by long absences of haughty gods
who drive fast cars on blistered skin of Earth
in futile race with Mary on her bike.

Still lacking grief he purchases from love,
bored Gabriel decides to stitch with threads
of scarlet lust the tattered paper coat
which pretty Death wears as young debutante
to skate iced pond still veined with pale decay
before third coming of the greedy lord.

Thus snowflakes long oblivious to time
paint smooth unwrinkled face of cosmic truth
to mask my face before I turn to stone
and measure permanence of fleeting words
that bathe our naked souls in amber light
when they sing inside chapel of my heart.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/05/…

Orpheus asks Gabriel to introduce him to the River Walker who learned how to cast love spells from the Virgin Mary who rides her bike on country roads.

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