Game Of Catch The Snake
© Surazeus
2025 10 02

Out in the lonely hills of somewhere else
she walks with shadows of people she loves,
and gathers wings of angels from the dirt
that quiver glumly in her trembling hands
till her tears transform them to butterflies
which flock around tombstones of dead gods.

Amazed at beauty of sunlight on hills
that glow with stark admission of mute guilt,
she asks the toad on mushroom of respect
about the meaning of life, but he croaks
eccentric psalm of bitter honesty
for how he always seems to lose the game.

Fame mocks our vain attempts to garner wealth
from cracked foundation of our quivering globe,
yet we continue to gouge hills of hope
for minerals to construct empire of power
based on endless calculating machines
that analyze data of human events.

Startled by snow drifting up to the sky
while Death plays haunting melodies on flute,
she turns her face away from human games
and dwells alone in high tower of mirrors
where she can see, beyond the mask of beauty,
inherent spark of weird divinity.

Uncanny vision that refracts our brains
glows clear before her eyes of fractured glass,
depicting mural of social events
where gods perform dramatic roles of power
in fierce contention between nation-states
to control the world narrative of truth.

Before snow falls again on unbowed heads
of humble pilgrims in the Holy Land,
she scatters apple seeds on sunbaked sand,
while horses gallop in exuberant hills,
to prove she knows the secret of success
as ageless Pythia in her golden cage.

Engaged in joyous game of catch the snake,
schoolchildren gather fragments of their dreams
to greet the jolly man in long red robe
who teaches them the joy of giving truth,
but he transforms into the plastic idol
who can do nothing but chuckle in glee.

Exploring merry hills of somewhere else
where ravens spy on children of dead gods,
she climbs the highest peak of honesty
to view whole world narrative of truth
in which each person plays appointed role
with strict obedience to the laws of Death.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/10/…

Orpheus kneels before Ophelia in the Holy Land and asks her to be his wife, and she hides her blushing cheeks behind bouquet of plastic flowers in her hands.

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