Almost See The Face
© Surazeus
2025 05 17

As star of my own solar system, I
wake in the quiet house of screaming ghosts
that beam from every brain alive on Earth
as radiant static of world emptiness
without sad story of the human race
that flickers on blank television screens.

Eight billion houses on our floating Earth
blink eyeless windows in the rancid night
though crackling stars burn human hearts to ash
because we walk alone on signless roads
together yet apart in void of time
just close enough to almost see the Face.

Anxiety appears in old-man form
crouched in mute horror of the sunless room
who follows me as shadow of my body
which thirsts to drink fermented blood of fear
that bleeds from pulsing sponges of my eyes
till I push him in swamp mud of my heart.

To build the baseline of our real-life tale
we start with honesty and end with lies
we carve as masks from skulls of ancient gods
to hide our aching hearts with bold bravado
that shields our wounded souls from vampire lust
on which celebrities of fame must feed.

By singing riddles of exotic hymns
I hope to achieve what my heart desires
when I create virtual Earth in my brain
to mirror real world composed of atoms
that seethe from heat to form organic souls
who writhe with pleasure to create new life.

With incomprehensible breath of hope,
I crawl hand over hand to mountain peak
where I stand on one leg of tense respect
to reach the first star of the universe
that still shines pulsing deep inside my brain
since its first flash flared forth from the big bang.

I feel how very atom of my soul
has pulsed with energy of lust for life
fourteen billion years of spinning time
through various forms of chemical concepts
transforming from ideal ghost of the I
who evolves billions of lives to be me.

Reframing problem of the afterlife,
I explain that I am the incarnation
of my parents in the flesh again now,
designed by immortal soul of our genes
as bodies that replicate our God Mind
in new brains where I almost see the Face.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/05/…

Orpheus almost sees the Face in the swirling mist so he reaches out his hand and finds Ophelia floating on the river as she clutches flowers.

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