Always Voyage To Cythera
© Surazeus
2026 11 08

I wish I could find solace in how waves
extract sharp thorn of sorrow from my heart
yet leaves me bleeding on beach of despair
so I wonder what words mean anymore
as I spiral in vast abyss of stars
what whisper thoughts of time-expanding hope.

Grass consumes frail bodies of dead ghosts
whose hands engrave their names on temple walls
where vultures feast on the sacrificed god
since Destiny is shaper of the Will
through choices we express in devious words
that trap us tangled in our fantasies.

Complex creed of our socialized beliefs
are bright illusions of our blinded eyes
that guide our steps along the rocky shores
of furious islands in fabulous seas
where shipwrecked refugees build world empire
on tale of the girl who steals fruit from snakes.

Stuck as demon in the windowless realm
of my imagination without walls,
I wear gold mask of the sacrificed god
to play his role in pageant of our state
till snow-capped volcano explodes in flames
that unravel secrets of dreamless brains.

Thus I always voyage to Cythera
where Sirens dance in sudden flash of rain
so I can shelter in the temple hall
since glass typewriter of Orpheus waits
for me to chronicle current events
through complex account of our search for truth.

Across infinitude of stable air
I dare explore realm of false parables
with stubborn honesty woven from pain
till I know myself as frail human being
whose heart reflects in mirror of my eyes
concept of God people project at me.

White blood on tearless stones of honesty
reveals source of torrential attitude
that fuels my journey to the Promised Land
where I rebuild grand temple of the god
whose name is lost from books of history
except as shadow on the grass at dawn.

Groomed mightier than death from ecstasy,
my heart is canonized by myth of love
when I become the heavenless undone
by grim assertion death requires I prove,
so I float nameless in slow surging tide
till wings of Icarus grow from my heart.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/11/…

Orpheus searches island of Cythera for bones of the greatest poet who ever lived in history of the Earth though she spent her entire live singing as she tended garden of herbs.

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