Story Thought Unthinkable
© Surazeus
2025 05 21

Though I have not lived very long on Earth
I know everything that does not exist
because I read about them in the Book,
constructed from feathery bones of birds,
which bleeds oil from my eyes at speed of light
despite how deep I dive in sea of faith.

All good intentions of my argument,
revived from hollow flux of cracking stones,
provide new framework for hard reckoning
when I dispute the obvious state of things
with perverse notions of important facts
based on excited sweepings of regret.

Indoctrinated by ripe fruit of lust
that blooms with weighty opulence of hope,
I note how fast time vanishes in thought
describing fevered passion of fake art
contrived to veil raw wounds of bitter hate
with satisfaction of my random whims.

Time jails accomplice of my fearless heart
with mute abandonment of tattered jokes
too late to check expansive pertinence
with honest aspects I could not discern
before morale may decimate our ranks
each time I laugh at how trees seem to dance.

I know the story thought unthinkable
according to despair of brazen gates
that might record surprising victory
which I achieve with confidence of fate
when I research elaborate assent
with force of my insatiable respect.

Ascendance on celestial planisphere
against the common cause of global laws
provides regressive undulance of truth
which music counteracts with relevance
for patience of exploding stars we lose
when ships sink howling in the brutal sea.

No words illuminate so well as those
I steal from fractured legends of dead gods,
who rage against machinery of delight,
our secret business to replace grand tales
with sullen heroes taught by suffering
for humble memory of gigantic ghosts.

They scatter scent of hazel in green rain
when all their children on the road ahead
evade clear presence of their unlocked doors,
forgotten by the blind librarian
who reads old news to ravens on bare shelves
since we leave treasures of our dreams in books.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/05/…

Orpheus wanders in the bookless library and calls out the names of every god ever worshipped by man but all he hears are echoes of his sorrow.

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