Healed By Cassandra
© Surazeus
2026 02 06

Heart twisted by sweet laughter of the sea,
who gives her wrecked ships full of long-lost hopes,
Hilda brings mass of violets from the marsh,
tufted with pungent soil in tangled roots,
to haunt men cluttered in their wave-tossed ships,
breaking their taut hearts with lies of their thoughts.

She plans to make disciples of all nations,
so they can lounge on decks of sinking ships,
while eating hamburgers and chocolate bars,
and listen to calm sons of Frankenstein
play violins and trumpets with pizzazz
while rich people from bankrupt estates drown.

Opening her bloody mouth of shark teeth,
Hilda explains with confident discourse
that the gold crown with pointed spikes kings wear
represents the crown of thorns Jesus wore
while hanging crucified on the phone pole
as he sings, "Look on the bright side of life."

Wielding eye-phone as sword Excalibur,
Hilda photographs leagues of wind-blown sand
because she loves how little ridges curve
as great waves of time break over our plans
and wipe out our empires with calm respect,
then posts them on her social media site.

Breaking out beyond the crowded town gate,
to escape precinct of the temple hall
where marble statue of Artemis cracks,
Hilda wanders up cold path of the stream
on unclaimed stretches of bleak mountain slopes
to secret altar in the alder grove.

Leaving Phoebus to his sheltering porch
of white marble, luminous with his logic
applied to system of the market game,
Hilda tries not to think about his eyes
blue as the restless sea after fierce storm
that drives her in the cave of lonely toads.

Far from strident business of shipping ports,
in jeweled cave among towering pines,
Hilda breathes mountain air of wild desire,
and sings enchanting hymn to Artemis
against rhythms of sycophantic priests
who try to trap her in garden of walls.

Ship-wrecked on rough shores of Arcadia,
Hilda hides from angelic helicopters
to run with wolves among luminous trees
far from hard temples of powerful wealth,
to nurse her bitter heart with fruit of faith,
healed by Cassandra with voice of the wraith.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus and Cassandra eat ice cream as they stroll on the river walk at sunset, then gather with the whole town to welcome the Buddhist Monks on their Walk for Peace.

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