Code Of Honest Love
© Surazeus
2025 10 23

Famous for reflecting unlight of faith
through shimmer of the ever-flowing sea,
my heart longs to connect through apple roots
with holy Anahita of the cave
who gives me cup of milk to drink her soul
that overflows in rainfall of new words.

Eight thousand years ago in mountain woods
where crows discuss weird beauty of her face,
my precious Anahita gathers light
in flashing swirls of psychic energy
that she collects through writhing crack of dawn
to help prepare our souls for second birth.

Misunderstanding code of honest love,
which animates first mother of all souls,
I dance with graceful elegance of fear
within the sacred pale of diamond stones
that radiate rainbow wings of human brains
to wake divine mind of stars in my brain.

Through resurrection of conceptual ghosts,
whose spirits beam from stars of dreamless eyes,
I feel my body glow with ardent faith
that I may live beyond blind nothingness
till I realize illusion of false hope
when I accept strict limit of my life.

Absorbing moonlight through my paper skin,
my soul invents weird memory of fierce strife
to survive through luminescence of faith
which reveals where Anahita now lives
amid aggressive swarm of butterflies
till I perish from attention of love.

Brave vanity springs from crack of my heart
to swirl among unacceptable hills
where rugged cross of great authority
heeds message from three angels of despair
who challenge codependence based on trust
since I dispose my fears outside locked doors.

With tenderness of paranoid respect
I pay attention to lies people hide
behind treacly bromides that placate rage
despite contrition demons recommend
for children who neglect to study laws
designed to protect our bodies from harm.

Since Anahita rules land of Zathar
with conceptual scepter that sprouts grape vines,
I offer tourists bowls of bloody milk
which heals deep wounds that fester in their hearts
so iron cherub can catch tears of faith
when Gabriel programs code of honest love.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/10/…

Orpheus asks Anahita if she is hungry as he offers plate of pomegranates that he bought from Persephone who sells them by the road in front of the gas station near the entrance to the interstate highway.

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