Want To Build My House
Want To Build My House
© Surazeus
2025 08 15
I want to build my house with sturdy walls
inside wide bend of the sparkling river
so we can play beneath lush apple trees
in fertile valley among verdant hills,
but dream of paradise vanished in mist
six thousand years before hour of my birth.
Orange mist sparkles in maze of cement streets
from lights in windows of tall square steel towers
as I walk cluttered sidewalk past street lamps
to red-brick apartment with fear-locked doors
where I sit at wood desk by the cracked window
and type lines of verse about paradise.
Slicing beef, onions, peppers, and tomatoes,
I grill supper on apartment rooftop
while ravens gather on sagging phonelines,
then eat hamburger in eerie moonlight
in sad attempt of my time-aching heart
to recreate paradise of the past.
Strumming guitar with callused fingertips,
I sing, "Today is last day of my job,
so when I get home I will write weird poem
of how my hopeless heart still longs to roam
sea to shining sea in land of the free,"
then quick-pick old heart-breaking melody.
While typing endless lines of tangled verse
to help my restless spirit navigate
confusing maze of myths in human dreams,
I look up at flutter of eager wings
to see the citrine wagtail with sharp eyes
that seem to see weird beauty of my soul.
So I think about the day years ago
when man first walked on surface of the moon
to find that angels live in paradise
where thousands of crystal cathedrals gleam
because I want to understand how fate
is written by each choice our wild hearts make.
I want to return to Calabria
to live in Aragonese Castle I built
with noble purpose to guard paradise,
but I stroll down to the corner cafe
to eat beef sandwich with cheese on rye
while helicopters putter in the sky.
Old woman who survived the holocaust
paints portrait of me as angel with wings,
then conjures the moon from song of the sea
so I understand truth of liberty
earned by the courage of great warriors
willing to die to protect paradise.
surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/08/…
Orpheus gazes out the window of his apartment to watch hundreds of people in the street below going to dance clubs on late Friday night.
#Poetry #Poem #Pastoral #Necropastoral #MetaModernism #Transrealism #NewSublimity #NewRomanticism #AmericanDream #Cinemism #Existentialism #Surrealism #NegativeCapability #NewGnosticism #MetaRealism #NewTranscendentalism #Astarism