Amused By Games Of Power
© Surazeus
2025 07 09

While falling head-down in abyss of faith
with pages of books as feathers on wings,
Fyodor and Fanny sing heart-warming hymn
about strange beauty of this cluttered world
to find inside cracked stone of timeless light
fate-rooted cipher of seductive truth.

When gold cathedral bells of holy angst
ring in the mist that shrouds conceptual ruins,
Fyodor and Fanny kneel with humble hope
by Pool of Narcissus to slake their thirst
so they can speak of things that must exist
encoded in weird language they invent.

Filled with excess idolatry for fame,
which they wear as crown of thorns in church pageants,
Fyodor and Fanny climb the dusty hill
where deviant angels of the empire live
beneath grim shadow of the giant sign
which advertises fun in paradise.

Though names we speak give birth to faceless ghosts
who tend Garden of Eden with bare hands,
Fyodor and Fanny visit the last God
grown so old from worship of blind fools
that he is now the prototype he hates,
whose blood is syrup of the singing tree.

Rescued from sharp delirium of fear
by the Big Bad Wolf with beautiful eyes,
Fyodor and Fanny carve our secret names
on tombstones lined along Highway to Hell
to earn through interior monologue
blessed assurance of life after death.

While wearing costumes of the famous dead
to lead lost children to the Promised Land,
Fyodor and Fanny realign the Earth
to match the ninth dimension of her brain
while dancing with the Joker in his lair,
aware that we are figments of his dream.

Still unremembered by the sacred house
where faces of the dead are photographs,
Fyodor and Fanny bake chocolate cake
to feed five thousand pilgrims by the lake
who wait for second coming of the White Whale
since absence arouses the evil clown.

Though infinity seeps into her hair,
and dynamite forms how his brain perceives,
Fyodor and Fanny sing hymn of true love
about how everything in life is fake
for those who spit at their hearts with contempt
realize they are amused by games of power.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus offers wine to Fanny Howe in cathedral ruins on the hill of laughing skulls, so she grins as they drink and talk about the weather.

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