Black Milk Of Daybreak
© Surazeus
2026 01 27

Once again we drink black milk of daybreak
while digging graves for our teachers and nurses
who tend festering wounds in doorless rooms
where the blind man writes with tooth of the snake
riddles on walls of museums and churches
that bleed words of truth in eyes of the ground.

Each morning we drink black milk of daybreak
to make room for more graves in empty clouds
where faceless ghosts of people with lost names
hide stories of harsh suffering they endure
deep in blinking hearts of red traffic lights
that signal our duty to oppose hate.

Each lunchtime we drink black milk of daybreak
while flames of world war consume garden trees
where Sulamith plays with serpent of truth
who recites riddles from book of fake lies
that prophesy fall of America
and rise of Zarathia to rule Earth.

Each evening we drink black milk of daybreak
while Albert plays electric violin
to raise soul of Odysseus from the dead
who catches capital bullets of rage
with psychic aperture of his blue eye
since he lives in the house with countless graves.

Each midnight we drink black milk of daybreak
since Margarete with the long golden hair
wanders in the house of the rising sun
to transform nuclear missiles of despair
into blackberry vines of innocence
so she can bake pies from our wounded hearts.

We decide to drink black milk of daybreak
because the bridge of happiness we built
collapses in swift River Styx of change
through urgent pride of honest arrogance
to assert principles of thought control
hidden by polished mask of Jupiter.

No one wants to drink black milk of daybreak
during the century of global wars
when angels in airplanes bomb paradise
as spies infiltrate foreign governments
till time assimilates nations of gangs
in peaceful United Nations of Earth.

I refuse to drink black milk of daybreak
after digging graves for millions of souls
who haunt me on long restless afternoons
so I record their names and tragic lives
in sacred chronicle of the blind crow
while I float in house of eight billion doors.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus welcomes Sulamith and Margarete into the house of endlessly opening doors so they can rest and eat a healthy meal.

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