No Face To Mask My Soul
No Face To Mask My Soul
© Surazeus
2026 07 18
I sit down with the natural sight of gain,
against simple tones of exploding trees
eager for commitment, since my eyes move
with twirling planets of lackluster faith,
if wings of peaches flutter with the clock
heavier than fake sorrow rendered mute.
Discerned adjustment of extensive space
between faces of strangers on the street
too important to sell, with radiant smiles,
sounds of silence through mediocrity,
if thoughts stumble blind into broken doors
locked against hungry refugees of war.
Gentility confined to edge of cliffs,
unaccountable to agents of truth,
hangs by crude rotation without new pens
to calculate how soon death comes for us,
if distance entrances hearts of believers
stuck on the train that will never arrive.
Not for all the wine of anywhere else
will I go to Heaven on the glass hill
because I want to buy your love with pearls
as sign of holy sentiment I feel,
if love stops emerging from wounded hearts,
for how blue the sky always seems to be.
As body with no face to mask my soul
I walk the invisible beach of faith
without sand in the story with no plot
except when I agree without good terms,
if angels have no alabaster wings,
to sail the sea without the boat of skulls.
Though death infers logical sense of fear,
I persist without intention to build
new house that is no home on signless road
despite how love should act beyond the phase,
if fate adorns aversion with false hope,
from which is born cause of obscurity.
He says he sees my picture on the wall
in railway station underneath the church
where zombies worship vampire as their god
who plays disc jockey on the radio,
if we are amazed by obvious things,
broadcasting revolution in hip code.
Still shored against grim ruins of the past,
that buzzes facts of history in my brain,
I deign to anticipate, with sly jokes,
collapse of our empire just before lunch,
if we share power to operate fate,
because the end of the world is postponed.
surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/07/…
Orpheus rides the train all the way around the world one hundred times to understand strange landscape of the ever-fluctuating state of mind.
#Poetry #Poem #Pastoral #Necropastoral #MetaModernism #Transrealism #NewSublimity #NewRomanticism #AmericanDream #Cinemism #Existentialism #Surrealism #NegativeCapability #NewGnosticism #MetaRealism #NewTranscendentalism #Astarism