My Weeping Brother Isaiah
My Weeping Brother Isaiah
© Surazeus
2025 11 28
When wistful winds unwind the burnished sun,
I stroll with my weeping brother Isaiah
across the loneliest prairie on Earth
to catch nameless ghosts of innocent people
killed by invaders in far distant wars
who fall with bitter grace of autumn leaves.
If I escape bomb in the antique clock
to fly away on weird angelic wings,
I may solve paradox of death in life
I find in beauty of bleak winter days
when contrite gods, embodied in bare trees,
ignite courageous yearning in my heart.
Feet bare on glass-sharp ground of frozen faith,
I stroll with my weeping brother Isaiah
to find gloom-glowing Seraphim of Pride
whose eyes spark pure erotic faith in love
when homeless people gather by blank church
to buy salvation from their vampire god.
Lost people who escape from bombed-out homes
project their grotesque loss on locked church doors
at calm chastisement meted out by clowns,
then give their treasures to bankers who stand
with lofty principles on fractured stones
to hear cruel songs strangle the wilderness.
God-born from wretched poverty of hope,
I stroll with my weeping brother Isaiah
down signless road to find the Promised Land
that ever shimmers on sun-slivered hills
as weird mirage that tricks our trusting hearts
so we rejoice that brutal empires fall.
Too many righteous souls with burning books
surround high ziggurat where Ishtar reigns
to claim inalienable right for fake wealth
concealed in social benefits by seals
stamped for approval by our vampire god
who shows us how streams flow down to the sea.
Now bearing Lamp of Liberty in hand,
I stroll with my weeping brother Isaiah
and tattooed angels wearing leather cloaks
who march to fight for vanished vanity
in protest that all conscious creatures die
through hunger for deceptive fairy tales.
Narcissus stares at mirror mask of mirth
with placid lust to play authentic self
shaped by anxiety of fluid faith
for quick transcendence of our mortal vibe
till he looks up and sees face of the girl
who cradles wingless sparrow of his heart.
surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/11/…
Orpheus takes Isaiah to Burger King where they eat hamburgers and fries with lemonade on Thanksgiving Day, then watch the parade of dead gods that humans no longer worship.
#Poetry #Poem #Pastoral #Necropastoral #MetaModernism #Transrealism #NewSublimity #NewRomanticism #AmericanDream #Cinemism #Existentialism #Surrealism #NegativeCapability #NewGnosticism #MetaRealism #NewTranscendentalism #Astarism