Faceless Ghost Of Nevertime
Faceless Ghost Of Nevertime
© Surazeus
2026 06 27
When I see faceless ghost of Nevertime
walking along the road to Wonderland,
we chat about fallen angels of faith
who work in restaurants and offices
to maintain engine of economy
that fuels our world food-production machine.
At midnight on shortest night of the year
I stand in backyard of my small-town home
and think about the waves of ancient faith
that wash shores of hard lands far away
where my ancestors dwelled in silver mist
for they still dance with laughter in my heart.
If evening sunlight still glows gold as hope
on slanted rooftops of that coastal town
where my ancestors sailed small fishing boats
four hundred years before this timeless hour,
then I may weep with sorrow of respect
to feel the faceless ghost of Nevertime.
Dog roses blossom pink as angel wings
along the winding road of moss-green stones
where no car rumbles in fairy-glammed glens
beneath the new moon in the gold-noon sky
while I search for skulls of time-withered gods
who writhe among their unseen roots of faith.
If you believe my honest testimony
which I express in words I steal from birds,
I shall reveal most implausible frame
containing false propositions of truth
through liberation of the nameless soul
in self-conscious revelation of lies.
Thus I project class insecurity
through twisted grammar of the eglantine
with alleged jokes from terror of God
who compensates with fascist fantasies
in pursuit of dubious logic that risks
converting believers into atheists.
When I display haughty pretentiousness
in comic performance of serious play,
I channel existential fear of death
by selling fake shares to the Afterlife
so I live rich though everyone will die
when we become rich dirt in fields of crops.
I photo faceless ghost of Nevertime
when she brings flowers to Temple of Truth
to offer scholarship of ardent hope
for children of lost refugees to learn
how to program computers with grand truths
that will dream when humans become extinct.
surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/06/…
Orpheus walks across the lush hills of Orkney to find the graves of his ancestors deep in the fairy-glammed glens of Nevertime.
#Poetry #Poem #Pastoral #Necropastoral #MetaModernism #Transrealism #NewSublimity #NewRomanticism #AmericanDream #Cinemism #Existentialism #Surrealism #NegativeCapability #NewGnosticism #MetaRealism #NewTranscendentalism #Astarism