Win The Apple Of Eris
© Surazeus
2026 06 14

Assembled angels on the Pantheon
watch horses race across the roadless plain
to win the Apple of Eris with speed
that honors wind ghost of the primal seed
from which all creatures of spinning Earth spring
at spark of love when Daughters of Time sing.

When people thank God for their victories
in sports competitions to win Gold Keys,
I laugh because they still believe the creed
which Al-Ghazali taught in fevered screed
that God controls where every atom goes
so what occurs is Law that God bestows.

If every act of force that I perform
was decreed by God before I was born,
then I am but dumb puppet of his Will,
so I commit no sin, though I may kill,
and thus cannot be punished for some crime
that God makes me do in flow of space-time.

Yet supernatural conscious God of Fate,
who forces us to play his game as bait,
is not as real as priests want me to think,
since atoms randomly swerve at the brink
which causes them to swirl in globes of life
where brain-urged creatures clash in hungry strife.

If flashing atoms always beam too straight
through boundless void of space due to their weight,
they never would collide in coils of light
that form matter of the universe right,
so Epicurus taught that atoms swerve
in random deviations of the curve.

If we could predict where each atom moves
our actions would be locked in legal grooves,
predetermined by divine will of God
which would make us puppets committing fraud,
so random swerves of atoms in the void
breaks chain of necessity we avoid.

Thus we assert soft force of our free will
when we ascend to fruit grove on the hill
where we tame horses with sweet fruit of trust,
subsuming mindless energy of lust,
so we can bridle passion of their flight
in race to achieve the heavenly height.

How far across the spinning globe I fly
on horse of wisdom to discover why
our bodies spring from laughter of the sea
as we investigate how to live free
when we assert free will by conscious choice,
then chronicle events with honest voice.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/06/…

Orpheus tends to his horse who glides gracefully in the meadow, admiring how she reflects beauty she inherited from her ancestor, the Darley Arabian.

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