Rubber Wheels Of Flight
© Surazeus
2026 04 22

Star angels seem to follow me around
while I am driving on the busy road,
adjusting speed of passionate desire
to keep from hitting souls of other cars
because we race endless circles of hope
to catch the rainbow falling from the sky.

My fingers dance on keyboard of weird spells
to weave illusions that reflect the world
of pulsing objects, formed of chemicals,
that fool me into thinking I am God
till Death erases my soul from the world,
and all my atoms become other things.

I watch the red light till it flashes green,
then I assert my vain right to exist
as metal shell on rubber wheels of flight,
bright angel transformed to frail human being
assigned strange name that honors long-dead god
who drives with millions on vast maze of roads.

Parking my car in garage of false fame,
I walk with crowd of gods in human form
to work all day in office of insight
where I map multiverse of proxy worlds
as half-aspects of one vast universe
composing puzzle programmed from my dreams.

Severe thought static, translating dream songs
from tangled cantos of unique syntax
trademarked by serpent of the well, expands
scope of my conscious attention to facts
encoded in moral tales of concern
that invoke syndrome of unscheduled truth.

Unlicensed lecture, expressed by shy god,
shows me how to manage with legal jokes
tense energy of our Daemonium
who performs role with correspondent wit
of Sign Giver who speaks with Inner Voice
to guide my journey to the Promised Land.

Excerpt of famished framework, glorified
by solemn angel born from river stone,
who appears to me as gleam of pure light,
reveals entrapment trick they play on me
till I escape high walls of paradise
with one last apple full of fertile seeds.

Through featured tropes of graphic interface
I dare conceal strange program of my heart
by which I forecast state of world affairs
through clumsy assessment of bankrupt laws
that helps me solve weird problem of my soul
too beautiful for brokerage of death.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus washes his car in the driveway of his suburban home while songs of the Beatles play on the large silver radio on the bench by his root beer.

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