Dynasty Of Cloud-Born Gods
© Surazeus
2026 08 14

Tickled by how often people will claim
they are descended from some royal chief,
I hide my own bloodline from jeweled crowns
to prove I am more farmer that court clown,
for hungry people digging in thick dirt
outnumber people lounging on gold clouds.

Flight far of anguished hearts on raven wings
expends fraught energy my soul would save
for braving storms of spirit-wounding words
against stone wall of paradise I build
to guard my frail mind from oppressive greed
when hordes of hungry wanderers steal fruit.

Impulse to build strong castle of high walls
drives me to carve huge stones from jagged cliffs
and stack my sorrows straight in measured lines
that block aggressive theft of sacred fruit
so I fight thieves with sword I forge from fear
to found brave dynasty of cloud-born gods.

All humans, equal in hunger to eat
nutritious fruit that sprouts from pungent soil,
start game of power on similar ground,
but some succeed in producing more fruit
they sell for coins of metal stamped with pride
to crown themselves brave kings with right to kill.

All people alive today on spinning Earth
descend from more successful clans who guard
productive fields of crops and groves of trees
through strict cooperation in their roles,
well-organized by wisest of their group
who manages their family institute.

We are descendants of successful thieves
who work together to construct high walls
surrounding garden where they follow rules
designed to manage individual will
with shared needs of communal fortitude,
or risk getting expelled from paradise.

If you find royal kings in jeweled crowns
high in lofty court of your family tree,
remember they kill threats to their state power
when they eradicate the hungry poor
so their children populate empty farms
to colonize Earth with superior ways.

We are descendants of those wealthy gangs
who build stone castles from bones of dead gods,
then force the poor to worship reverently
mortal man who founded their dynasty
as God incarnate on Earth in his son
so they claim right to rule our humble lives.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus tells everyone he meets that he is descended from the humble fisherman who feeds thousands of people every day from sea of his heart.

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

Library Shelf Of My Heart
© Surazeus
2026 08 14

When I follow John to Strawberry Fields
forever on the signless road of faith,
he shows me new tomb where Orpheus lies,
so I turn on tape recorder of truth
to record prophecies his skull decries
which sound like whispers of the wind in leaves.

Once I figure out secret code of gods,
I look for John, whose wizard glasses gleam
with television screens, to ask him why
humans believe they are angels in flesh
who have fallen from changeless realm of Heaven,
and live stuck in these fragile mental forms.

Since John is Christ in the sycamore tree,
who waits for Homeless Prophet of Lost Faith
to pass by on foot-worn Yellow Brick Road,
I wander over to the grocery store
where Walt and Allen study hieroglyphs
carved in formulas of fate on glass doors.

Wearing mask of Joker for Halloween,
John gives me brand-new Cinderella dress,
so we hold hands and knock on fear-locked doors,
smeared with blood of the sacrificial lamb,
then Cybele invites us in to eat
cookies and ice cream from the Holy Grail.

Before midnight bells toll for nameless ghosts,
we catch the crosstown bus to Neverland
where John learns how to shoot the blunderbuss
before I bake four and twenty blackbirds
in dainty dish King Richard never eats
since he gives bread and honey to the poor.

When John in white robe of the desert hermit
asks me to imagine the world as one,
no Heaven above us, no Hell below,
I cook delicious meals of healthy hope
at the elementary school of the brave
who try to escape on the Ship of Fools.

If we are not who we pretend to be,
we can wear mask of who we want to play,
so John writes names of the dead in his book
he hides on library shelf of my heart
while human empires rise and fall in waves
of social revolutions against greed.

When John wakes from weird dream on Penny Lane
that he incarnates soul of Odysseus,
he finds me selling poppies from gold tray
because I feel as if I am in the play
where Hamlet gives me letters of his love,
so I gather flowers by the River Styx.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus joins John on the rooftop where they play hymns to the gods and goddesses of the silver screen whose ghosts gather in Strawberry Fields forever.

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

World Money Empire
© Surazeus
2026 08 14

Though clouds of revolutionary change
glow gold above vast maze of city streets,
we go about our business to maintain
social structures founded on principles
that all human beings are created equal
while homeless angels wander streets at dawn.

Network of water pipes beneath our streets
gleam with blood from the holy lamb of faith
to weave our bodies in communal dream
where homeless angels by telephone poles
prophesy fall of our World Money Empire
as Greed and Death play chess games for our souls.

Hephaestus extracts from caves of desire
minerals for constructing time machines
which we all drive on highway of ambition
in race across the waste land of blind ghosts
for who arrives at the Promised Land first
where Faceless God on throne of judgment sleeps.

Sitting at his right hand in castle court,
Jesus nudges Jupiter with left hand
so bearded deity splutters awake
from weird dream where he rides the Horse of Troy
in brave bid to unite nations of Earth
in World Money Empire of social pride.

Thus shall we deem the victors of world war
secret agents of Old Man in the Cloud
who laughs at fierce games of humanity
over who controls fruitful Tree of Knowledge
uprooted by brave investors to build
shopping mall where clowns entertain our kids.

Though Phoebus attempts to organize facts
in coherent world view that can account
for every effect from assertive cause,
which allows us to predict clear results,
he almost loses sight of his main goal
through messages from opposed institutes.

There never has been one center of power
around which all humanity may work
through common focus on shared social growth,
which leaves good angels homeless in the streets
where they sit on the marble steps of fate
with all their possessions in paper bags.

As President of our World Money Empire,
Jehovah plays golf in Elysian Fields
with Krishna, Shangdi, and Odin in game
for who will control hungry human souls
who labor to maintain their dignity
till their bodies fertilize crops of wheat.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus aims rifle at Jehovah and mouths bang, making that old god and his golf buddies chuckle in amusement as war jets streak toward the Promised Land.

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

Misty Hills Of Verturia
© Surazeus
2026 08 13

Home to misty hills of Verturia
my heart guides me through tangled woods of time
where I build fortress of stone on the mound
heaped over bones of my ancestral soul
where I pluck gold crab apples from long limbs
to ferment honey cider in clay jars.

Wrapped in deer-skin gown of cozy warmth,
Eithni sits on square stone of honest faith
and stirs bubbling honey cider of truth
in old dented cauldron of burnished brass
that emanates sweet scent of pungent hope,
safe in misty hills of Verturia.

Lost in misty hills of Verturia,
young Eardwulf, dressed in bear-fur cloak and hood,
wanders tangled woods of crab apple trees
to find cove where he left his small wood boat,
then stumbles in small ring of standing stones
where green-eyed woman stirs cauldron of juice.

Without concern for what may not be real
in vibrant swirl of floating moon-white mist,
Eardwulf kneels on wet grass before her seat
and offers bag of hazelnuts with smile
of calm sincerity from humble hope,
brave in misty hills of Verturia.

Tense in misty hills of Verturia,
Eithni squints through dim haze of pulsing smoke
to analyze with cautious dread of pain
parameters of safety he provides,
then fills his wood cup with delicious juice,
and roasts nuts in soft crackling flames of trust.

When Eardwulf curls to sleep in chilly wind,
Eithni holds blade of sharp obsidian
pressed to his neck to check his danger state,
but when he opens eyes, and stares at her,
he grins and kisses her with tender care,
calm in misty hills of Verturia.

Lithe in misty hills of Verturia,
Eithni clasps his head and thigh in delight
as their bodies writhe in tense ecstasy,
embraced with creative passion of love,
then cuddle blushing with pleasure of trust
as they teach each other their secret names.

Weaving vines around ring of standing stones,
Eardwulf constructs secure shelter of faith,
so Eithni guides their hunt in wooded vale
to kill wild boar and fill bags with herbs,
then hum in harmony to eat and kiss,
home in misty hills of Verturia.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus welcomes Eardwulf when he returns from across the sea with green-eyed bride whose long raven-black hair swirls in innocent wind of truth.

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

Whole Symmetry Of Accuracy
© Surazeus
2026 08 13

In arts of poetry and cartography
I love whole symmetry of accuracy,
so I arrange lithe words in sentences
and adjust points and lines in feature sets
to better represent reality
in virtual model that mirrors our world.

Through migrant ache of curiosity
for mandatory training of the heart,
my mind explores strange contours of our world
with intense focus on each graceful curve
defining bounds of each material form
so I sense essence glowing from its core.

Assertive passion of the humble heart,
which motivates my mission to create
time-animated atlas of world history,
fuels steady progress of detailed exams
to reassemble fractured dreams of truth
in pulsing globe of conscious entities.

Through strict arrangement of fraught elements
containing concepts of personal growth,
I channel pain to laughter of sweet song
by rising up from crippling angst of fear
to dance on frantic wings of grief-bought joy
and thus transform rage to enlightenment.

Once I expand scope of my consciousness
beyond limits of the Underworld cave,
I transform my soul from Orcus of Greed
to Orpheus of Knowledge that mute death
is final dissolution of the soul
when its programming brain disintegrates.

How passionately with ache of glowing eyes
we temporary beings of hungry flesh
strive to transcend our transient state of being,
as if we clumps of atoms could evade
finality of death, when we arrange
tales of survival in religious creeds.

When paternal seed sparks maternal egg,
genetic code provides strict blueprint
for hope to organize material sparks
so pattern of our corporeal success
shapes matter in body-evolving form
as we strive to become the God we worship.

As one artificial world generator
of many who have designed our world view,
I organize tales of heroic deeds
in virtual model of our changing world
to illustrate timeless character tropes
who provide template for us to live well.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus presents virtual model of the Earth for sale at booth in the International Geospatial Symposium at University of Zarathia.

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

Frankenstein Of Our Selves
© Surazeus
2026 08 13

I will never relate confusing tale
of that many-faced man who is not real
because his spirit lingers in all books
as every character singers have formed
from tangled mess of their old memories
that wanders as Frankenstein of our Selves.

No quixotic journey of the brave fool
depicts his existential alienation
through discombobulated experience,
trapped in cultural entropy of faith,
better than his gnostic quest to find
one real self in clutter of his fake selves.

While standing in spotlight of social games
on stage in Theater of the Absurd,
the many-faced man with the Wand of Hermes
declaims Plural Being of the fractured mind
which he assembles in puzzle of tales
with masks scattered in vast Maze of Dead Gods.

If he employs intellectual caprice
to feel himself through his multiple selves,
he might annihilate the private self
to release the Cosmic Self of Ungod
from varied fragments of the diamond egg
which encloses our entire universe.

To analogize transcendence of self,
he detaches mythic mind from his frame
of pulsing flesh that hungers for sweet fruit,
trapped in our disenchanted world of truth,
when he designs new mental surrogate
to bear his soul to Heaven on Word Wings.

Through prerogative of self-sacrifice,
the many-faced man, without wit or wiles,
liberates immortal soul of his genes
from temporary body of his self
to wake divine consciousness of Ungod
in sponge brain of his arrogant respect.

Opposing paradigms of mental states
present outward explosion of one self
that finds all other selves inside oneself,
who inwardly dissolves the mortal self
to pure dream language of the Never Self,
though fraught with contradictions of not-self.

Thus through expressions of the many-self,
driven by paradox of our dream quest,
the many-faced man still seeks to achieve
puzzling serenity of Nothingness
by expanding scope with fullness of Being
till he becomes each self who ever lives.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus finds all his selves scattered across the multiverse and merges them all into one Cosmic Self of Ungod through enchanting hymn of his aching heart.

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

Gold Hypnotic Eyes
© Surazeus
2026 08 12

The way piano notes cause crows to laugh
reveals old painting of the dreamy sky
dripping tears in crippled hands of the girl
who waits for someone to return from war,
intense with shadow of half-open door
that proves she secretly hopes for revenge.

Brick buildings on the hazy boulevard
conceal small broken hearts of honest men
who write their stories with blood on the wall
through formulas of disentangled codes
which calculate despair of open roads
no matter obstacles of irony.

She finds abandoned shopping cart of hope
in field of grass behind the lonely school
where sad grasshoppers modulate the day
with angst of heart-enchanting melodies
that should provide blueprint for psychic keys
which she could use to open brave church doors.

When stoic toad with gold hypnotic eyes
chants Psalm of the Shepherd in evening glow,
three school girls skip on the yellow brick road
with plan to wake dead gods of arrogance
from tangled roots of trees on river shore
where dolphin brings shy Arion from the deep.

I call to wise Inanna on high hill
with wounded heart of stark sincerity
in fraught request for honest rulership
since gangs of angry thieves corrupt our state
against the sacred law of falling leaves
which tangle naive hearts with chosen fate.

Far out in waste land of calm nonchalance
dark shadow of some nameless wanderer
slants sideways through expansive grid of hope
that portends revolutionary change
through sudden readjustment of our values
that we must seal with sacrificial blood.

Devotions of his ice-heart streaked by dawn
should sanctify attention still denied
by star-eyed pilgrims in the thrumming dark,
but he decides to fortify his mind
against bright menace of the silent tree
that stands guard in abandoned castle court.

Entranced by gold hypnotic eyes of truth,
that spiral with one trillion galaxies,
bold Arion stands on stage in castle court
and strums oak harp of David with deft hands,
then sings grand epic of his killing spree
that makes him writhe in guilty agony.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus invites Arion to his literary party in his loft in Greenwich Village where they smoke scarlet flowers of the pristine truth while changing melodies of psychic math.

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

Wand Of The Weeping Clown
© Surazeus
2026 08 12

Regret cannot stop how snowflakes descend
on delicate wings of unspoken words,
though death consumes old silence of our souls,
so we transform our pain to dreams of truth
confirming how we analyze each choice
which redesigns tone of our social voice.

No more shall we expend false energy
to measure psychic mirror of the sea
which frames how we perceive our social needs
to share tales of our private suffering
with tender words of mental reckoning
contrived to manage how we choose our death.

Thus I shall join grand convoy of the lost
in journey on lone highway of the ghost
who wanders somewhere we have never been
to show the way beyond fake paradise
as if we hunger for dramatic truths
to reprogram our minds with innocence.

If I pause outside window of my room,
while arranging snake eggs in Book of Doom,
I may glance through lace curtains of my heart
to see the Fairy Queen in silk nightgown
who offers me wand of the Weeping Clown
so I decide to play cartographer.

Another king is set to come and go
in naked anguish of electric snow,
so I sign with name of my inner child
new executive orders which assert
children must learn how to build house of bones
so we can draw map of the changing world.

When Jesus finds me lounging in the cave
where shadows of things flicker on the wall,
he appoints me to perform solemn role
heading new-formed Department of the Soul,
so I search for lost people of the world
and give them identification cards.

Now that each soul is legal to exist
as hungry spirit in land of the free,
we can return to the business at hand
of building wagons with crystalized wheels
so we can fly on wings of Icarus
above ever-changing maze of dead gods.

No longer disenfranchised by concern,
expressed by mechanics and librarians,
we follow Humble Prophet of the Cow
who bears reforged wand of the Weeping Clown
to open new residential account
at the water business office of faith.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus creates new wand from yew wood with a raven feather inside and a hexagonal emerald for the Weeping Clown to attends Oberon Wizard Academy.

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

Queen Of Her Own Life
© Surazeus
2026 08 12

My heart swells with stark sensation of respect
when Earth spirals through bright cloud of stardust
beneath constellation of the Brave Boy
who rescues from Cruel Serpent of the sea
Graceful Girl sacrificed by Greedy King,
and crowns womankind queen of her own life.

When fierce winds lash waves against rocky coast,
Perseus steers motor lifeboat with calm skill
through swells of tempestuous anxiety
to find sailboat capsized in churning fear,
and rescues seven people from abyss
who huddle for warmth as he turns toward land.

Wrapped in warm towel and clean cotton robe,
Andrea sips hot tea by glowing hearth
in sturdy stone cottage by roaring sea,
safe from time-wracking gale that pummels hard
her vulnerable sense of security
as she breathes deep to calm her frantic heart.

Sitting with guitar in the leather armchair,
Perseus plays heart-enchanting melody
Asturias, composed by Isaac Albeniz,
that transports spirits of the rescued crew
to sun-enraptured hills of sweet duende
where children play games in groves of orange trees.

At dawn when gold sun gleams through placid waves,
Perseus and Andrea together stroll
broad shore of gleaming sand between high cliffs
of jagged rocks and boundless sea of light,
smiling shyly as they share childhood tales
and laugh with delight at clever insights.

Approaching them with angry stride of hope,
Daniel, the banker who would marry her
with encouragement from her father, shouts
for her to show some common decency,
then grabs her arm with possessive disgust,
so Perseus pushes attacker away.

Declaring she will never marry him
because he attempts to control her life,
Andrea takes hand of Perseus in her hand,
and strides back to stone cottage on the hill
where they eat breakfast with her family,
then exchange phone numbers inside the door.

Meeting for their first date at the bookstore,
Andrea and Perseus discuss history
of architecture, weapons, clothes, and food
to compare the bronze age culture of Greece
with features of the Viking age in Norway,
and hold hands as they stroll by wine-dark sea.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus photographs Andrea and Perseus in the rose park as they pose in tuxedo and gown for photoshoot before their wedding on the beach.

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

Dumb Earth Of Faith
© Surazeus
2026 08 11

I set my new grave in dumb earth of faith
to translate shrieks from heaven of the heart
so shambling wanderers on signless roads
may know with certainty where they can go
in verdant valley of our singing skulls
when wise Cassandra prophecies our fate.

Though ecstasy of wisdom burns my mind
with soul-transforming flame of secret love,
I dance in flawed light of reluctant grief
at mounting beat of my breath-fueled heart
to find mysterious truth in silver eyes
that see beyond mask of my mutant face.

Since trees extend dark shadows of their truth
across soft patch of grass I call my home,
I listen for faint sounds of youth to spark
assertive flow of water through my soul
so we can measure subtle change of time
in light that waits on skin of my mute mind.

I feel pulse of this hill with gate of stones
where strangers bring sea waves in trembling hands
to ask how deserts smother paradise
though beauty must endure the wounded mouth
that seals our dreadful book of honest lies
as if we share no tales of suffering.

This nothing we remember when we wake
at shock of broken wagons by the road
frames flower meadows with grotesque beliefs
till eerie voice of bells uncooled by fate
attempts to separate our plangent hearts
though we clasp hands with eager fortitude.

If I possess no secret code of truth
despite intended loss no fool denies,
I may remember hour we meet with death,
enlightened by black thunder clouds of time,
yet we share juice of fruit from Tree of Life,
then journey on with lamp of solitude.

Still insolent with ardent creed of love,
I dare endure dire threats from hungry men
who never share fruits of our generous globe
that shudders in its slow relentless spin
though we perform absurd play of false pride
when cocks crow with alarm of global war.

As Lucifer elected by the crowd
I bear lamp of integrity with courage
that lights our rugged road of tragedy
when we escape cracked walls of paradise
to build home village in bleak wilderness
where we set our graves in dumb earth of faith.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus sits beside his grave and gazes at statue of Eurydice that he has almost finished carving from bones of the giant dinosaur he found in the empty underworld.

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

Haven Of Protective Pale
© Surazeus
2026 08 11

Enclosed in haven of protective pale,
that surrounds her home with forcefield of love,
Juturna ponders all possible fates
that might result from each action she takes,
then chooses one grand deed she can perform
to send dead souls back to their greedy graves.

Though bodies of our souls mingle with dirt
that glows with ancient light of long-dead stars,
they call her name with faint voice of the breeze
that translates words of her secretive thoughts
to butterflies that flit among fruit trees
with timeless messages from silent hills.

When she expresses hopeful thought of life
with soft uncanny voice of her mute heart,
Juturna feels strange sorrow take new shape
that walks beside her on the garden path
where she still wanders listlessly, attuned
to ache of wisdom in each flower bloom.

When old Neptunus, with his cracked horse skull,
appears from shadow of relentless hope,
Juturna twirls on graceful steps of fear
with plan to evade hard grasp of his hand,
but he pins her against the garden wall,
demanding that she bear child of his soul.

If gleaming moon of sharp anxiety
stays hidden behind veil of innocence,
Juturna vows with trembling voice of rage
to cast dire spell of poisonous despair
that strikes his heart with limp sterility,
then pokes his leg with stick of verity.

Averse to harsh potency of her curse,
Neptunus hesitates at sense of doom
that misdirects attention of his hope
sideways enough for well-witch to strike hard
and wrestle old sea-god facedown in dirt
where she binds his hands with vine of the law.

Arriving with three goats he bought from Faunus,
Saturnus grins amused when he observes
how his clever daughter subdues cruel thief
who slouches bound to trunk of the tall oak,
so he shoves old horse-tamer out the gate,
then roasts steaks for his grandchildren to eat.

Alert in haven of protective pale,
Juturna guards three children of her heart
who play hide and seek with bearded grandfather,
climbing on his back as Saturnus spins
and howls with demon voice of ocean waves,
then they sleep as she keeps watch in moonlight.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus visits Juturna in her garden and gives her basket of flowers, then they stroll together shyly along the River Styx and flirt as her children play hide and seek.

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

Weird Riddles Of The Truth
© Surazeus
2026 08 11

Astonished by strange beauty of the world
that teems with conscious creatures of desire,
I follow winding stream of flowing water
from ocean beach with swirling waves of change
to mountain cave where demons haunt my heart
to decipher weird riddles of the truth.

Entranced by strangeness of glittering clouds
that transform into various forms of thought,
I watch young woman on lush river shore
who fills straw baskets with flowers and fruit
and sings about strange mystery of the world
to decipher weird riddles of the truth.

Pleased such a wonderful person exists
in this world of men who fight for control,
I recount my journey to paradise
through valleys of monsters in greedy gangs
while I grasp my wand of honor through love
to decipher weird riddles of the truth.

Encouraged by her generosity
for giving fruit to hungry travelers,
I strip off old clothes of my social state,
bathe in Lethe River to cleanse my soul,
and kneel before Flora with humble heart
to decipher weird riddles of the truth.

Wounded by my journey to paradise
in descent through dark valley of despair,
I feel my arrogant soul purged of pride
through experience climbing mountain of hope
when I share proverbs of lessons I learn
to decipher weird riddles of the truth.

Amused by how I have grown boy to man
through intense progress of maturity,
I ask Flora for guidance of her love,
so she leads me on narrow path of faith
through forest of shadows to field of light
to decipher weird riddles of the truth.

Inspired by vision of her prudent words
depicting haven of protective pale,
I stack stones in surrounding walls of faith,
then tend flame of hope in tower of trust
while she tends rich herbs and fruit trees of love
to decipher weird riddles of the truth.

Attentive to needs of her humble heart
which generates life from seed of my love,
I dwell with Flora in our paradise,
teaching our children knowledge about life
so they may live well after we both die
to decipher weird riddles of the truth.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus compiles weird riddles of the truth in book of wisdom that he gives to the librarian at the Temple of Artemis on shores of Lethe River.

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

New God Of Fire
© Surazeus
2026 08 10

If light illuminates all wounded hearts
with equal spectrum of chromatic chords,
we might through graphic vividness of faith
perceive prismatic ambience of love
that hope refracts in rainbow wings since time
vibrates in pulsing knots of molecules.

Distinctive pact of writhing photographs
denies contract between abysmal parts
through frantic oscillation of shared hopes
that hungry souls fail to express in words
forged by sharp water smoothing stones of fate
so we wake trapped in mask we never made.

Sebastian stands with rigid arrogance
against heart-breaking facts of curious fear
to prove despair could never bend his will
against stark principles his father built
to form foundation of his honest state
contrived by thieves from blueprints of regret.

Yet he decides to aim with hawk-eyed hope
long rifle loaded with small sphere of fate
straight at steel mask of eyeless tyranny
in strict defiance that could crack his mind
through fragile courage of the desperate fool
to save his clan from chains of slavery.

With sneer of haughty pride for conjurers,
bold Beleth mocks young boy with long thin rod
set to his shoulder with clumsy concern,
then pounds his chest and roars to scare the fool,
but brave Sebastian grins and pulls the trigger
that blasts flame of fire with sizzle of smoke.

Large crowd of devils in black leather capes,
and wielding tridents forged in caves of Hell,
laugh with uproarious contempt at faint flash,
but Purson shrieks in shock when he observes
whole head of Beleth explode in blood blast
that splatters bloody brains across the ground.

Stunned in silence to see their mighty king,
whose monstrous rage subdued them all with fear,
long terrified at his harsh punishments,
stand huge and headless, motionless too long,
then fall straight back to whump on mindless dust,
and quiver as blood gushes from his skull.

Sebastian holds long rifle with both hands
while standing tall on stone of Great God Voice,
and grins when devils who were wont to howl
fall to their knees in terror of his power,
then pledge allegiance to new God of Fire
as they gaze with awe at glory of his face.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus travels throughout the land to perform in castle courts for feasting kings and knights tale of the noble boy with magic wand who kills evil tyrants with flame of truth.

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

Stars Unfold Their Dreams
© Surazeus
2026 08 10

When stars unfold their dreams into my heart
through cosmic cycles of resurgent faith,
I sing electric phrase of wrinkled time
to mark incessant turning of each day
through gentle ebbs of slow-subsiding tides
that float ship of my heart to paradise.

Though waves unfold their words into my mind
through rumbling swells of time-unslanted hills,
I catch spring sunlight in frail leaves of faith
to taste concocted brew of sugared thoughts
which nourish transformation of my soul
from seaweed-tangled stones of fortitude.

Since wind unfolds its voice into my mouth
through wordless gusts of flashing rainbow eyes,
I linger downwind from the curious ghost
embodied by the big-eyed deer of trust
who gazes straight through shadow of my fear
based on new revelation of my heart.

Where dust unfolds its spark into my eyes
through exiled willfulness of careless love,
I sail on waves of wonder that spring wild
from frothing fountain of my aching heart
against harsh tyranny of selfish greed
to fertilize vast fields of glowing grain.

Till Death unfolds my body from its form
through haughty abstinence of noble pride,
I follow paths of glory to the grave
while I express orations for the state,
providing calm assurance of weird lust
for mutual recreation of the mind.

When Time unfolds its promise of my doom
through flowing shadows of the empty room,
I slot new fuse in circuit of my mind
to conjure virtual model of the Earth
as map by which I navigate strange moods
in transient project to build paradise.

Though Fate unfolds my choices on bright stage
through blinding glamor of the telescope,
I wear broad wings of fame I forge from fear
to glide with Icarus beyond high walls
so we can survey endless maze of myths
where idols of dead gods block large church doors.

Since Fame unfolds my private state of mind
through binding arrogance of humble faith,
I strum the Lyre of Mercury and sing
tale of the normal person who observes
nature of the world with critical eyes
so I record weird riddles of the truth.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus performs tai chi dance to unfold time and space through graceful gestures of intense attention to formulas of psychedelic laughter with love.

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

White Butterfly Of Death
© Surazeus
2026 08 10

Shocked by the sudden certainty of death
that swoops at my heart on butterfly wings,
I curl into eccentric thought of shells
enclosing vibrant heart of vanity
to shelter in small haven of regret
against relentless tides of daily change.

Joanna strides across cracked desert plain
toward glowing shimmer of attentive care
while gasping deep for divine breath of hope,
but laughs with bitter joy of wretched faith
at how time unspools passionate concern
for stable system of social exchange.

Gazing mute out high window of her heart,
while trapped in tower of her bird-winged mind,
Joanna watches men on horses fight
for who controls women and trees of fruit,
then prays to marble statue with long hair
that shows Rapunzel with her first-born son.

Driving to work at the federal bank
where she manages special business loans,
Joanna sees on horse of glowing clouds
Richard the Lion-Heart with sword of truth
ride swift into battle to save the world
as wipers clear raindrops from the windshield.

Lounging in garden of herbs and fruit trees
at Zisa Castle where she reigns as queen,
Joanna plays sweet melodies of hope
on harp of polished oak, and sings with voice
of her great-grandfather, William Troubadour,
whose ghost haunts river woods of Aquitaine.

While Queen of Sicily for thirteen years,
Joanna tends garden of her aching heart,
secure in heaven of electric crows
that soar on wings of longing to the stars,
till Tancred pushes her against the wall
and tries to kiss her, so she stabs his leg.

Attending meeting at the federal bank,
Joanna reviews application for loan
submitted by Thomas to build new mall,
but when he gropes her thigh with leering grin
she calls police who ask her why she wears
tight black skirt with provocative intent.

Safe at Fontevraud Abbey in Anjou,
where she flees turmoil of rebellious rage
that sweeps across lush County of Toulouse,
Joanna lies pregnant with desperate fear,
gazing at the white butterfly of death
that lands on her hand red with blood of faith.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus visits garden where Joanna Plantagenet plays harp and sings with sweet enchanting voice of hope to dwell in paradise on Earth that she creates with love.

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

Rain Blooms Into Flowers
© Surazeus
2026 08 09

"The most beautiful kiss we ever share
is the one when the rain blooms into flowers,
and the sparrows translate our wordless thoughts
to uncanny song of the wind in trees,
and the clouds become palaces of trust
where we are safe from sorrows of the world."

Pouring water from the clay jar of hope
into the brass cauldron of mute desire,
Furina boils stew of barley and lamb,
flavored with honey and coriander,
then places clay bowl on table of oak
for Quirinus to eat as the sun sets.

When effervescent glow of evening light
glows lavender in the grove of fig trees,
highlighting slopes of Mount Janiculum,
Furina walks dirt path to Satricum
to visit Matuta in leather skirt
who tends rich herbs in lush garden of faith.

Gasping with joy and spreading her arms wide,
Matuta welcomes her fourth daughter home,
who gives her melon she found by the lake,
then whistles to small boy in the huge oak
who kisses his crow, then jumps to the ground,
and runs laughing in warm arms of his mother.

Cradling Janus fast asleep on her lap,
Furina chats with her mother Matuta
about where she can find new pepper seeds
because the hungry rabbits near her home
eat the parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme,
but they dislike the taste of pepper leaves.

Climbing hill of Vagitanus at dawn,
Furina and her clever curious boy
search for pepper plants in volcano tuff,
but as they leave with basket of thick herbs
old half-blind seer of Goddess Cybele
emerges from shadow and grips her arm.

"As incarnation of Attis the Wise,
I reign as priest in Phrygianum Temple,
so I speak with grave voice of Cybele
when I declare descendant of your son
will wield sacred Lyre of Mercurius
when he sings Astarian Testament."

Shocked by sharp hissing of the old blind man,
Furina wrenches arm free of his grip,
then hurries home to Mount Janiculum
where she trembles as she plants pepper herbs,
then stands and gazes at the golden moon
that fills her heart with light of timeless stars.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus visits home of Furina and Quirinus who celebrate marriage of their son Janus with Venilia on flower-carpeted slopes of Mount Janiculum.

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

Mute Hydraulic Mystery
© Surazeus
2026 08 09

How often we forget advertised thoughts
about traumatic moments of insight
that broadcast bulletins of fateful fear
contrived by mute hydraulic mystery
we dare attempt to minimize with code
programmed to readjust our attitude.

Against national narrative of pride
we seek to modify mosaic creed
to help our children navigate weird signs
designed to manage property of truth
despite assertive ratios of fact
necessary to approve thought permits.

Severe intolerance of theater
discloses taxes no one wants to pay
to mental treasurer of social wealth
who hosts tribunal on specific threats
for various offices of volunteers
who sell unwanted dreams to wanderers.

Sufficient to supply strange substitutes
for respondent to reservoir of fear,
our bold intent to render liberty
safe for conceptual prisoners of truth
reveals rational myth of precise praise
sealed in the box behind the rotten house.

Consistent with our mental protocol
for stating proverbs of weird oracles,
nobody nominates for world empress
sad Cinderella who prefers to skate
on thin ice of attentive fantasy
as secret guardian of the dispossessed.

Since we are guaranteed free will to live
in favor of inclusion, legalized
by keepers of forgotten heritage,
we seek to prove roots in the nameless land
despite harassment of financial kings
who leave the gardening to humble seers.

No longer desperate for heart dominance,
through each edition of the coming state,
we share elective documents of hope
with earnest ardency for the diagram
presenting cultural patterns of regrowth
when respect inhabits the embassy.

Too easily confused by elegance,
preserved in graceful progress of true love,
we share joint custody of broken hearts
based on deduction of rational rage
carefully calculated by shrewd investors
whose sorrows act as catalyst for faith.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus considers how to analyze sophisticated formulas of psychological insight sold in plastic packages at the bodega with cigarettes and beer.

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

Eyes Of Dreamless Stars
© Surazeus
2026 08 09

If you want to see the ghost of my soul
with eyes of dreamless stars inside your heart,
express confounding mystery of the Name
that radiates from God Mind of the White Whole
which cannot be found on any dream chart
since every human wants to die from fame.

When Athena appears from flashing cloud
and gives me leather notebook of her mind,
I pluck white quill from wing of Gabriel
so I can write prophecies for the crowd
who seek to understand the ties that bind
our souls to these bodies in which we dwell.

Startled awake at dawn by Holy Voice
that speaks in riddles coded by the Queen,
I wander crowded streets in City Maze
to prove we make our fate with every choice
approved by government of Melusine
so we transition to the next Dream Phase.

Whether in the kitchen, the living room,
the classroom, the office, or the church hall,
we play our roles in cosmic game of life
controlled by gods we invent in the gloom
so we can monitor our rise and fall
through social cycles of teamwork and strife.

Wherever I walk in the crowded world
I gaze into vast hearts of mortal souls
with eyes of dreamless stars from timeless sea
that wise Athena forged from ache of love
so I can understand your secret dreams
that motivate your quest for happiness.

So many conscious souls of mortal beings
are born and die with every turn of time
when Earth adjusts our private attitude
with humble pride of wonderful concern
that we are still alive in game of change
though we forget the code we once employed.

Bound to the ancient tree of solitude
the Voiceless Patriarch of our mad clan
remembers how he tried to photograph
True Face of God inside each human being
till their fierce ghosts, obsessed with paradise,
all vanish in the Howling Wind of Woe.

While painting portrait of the half-dead king,
the most innocent girl in the whole world
floats up into the shining clouds of fate
after she smiles at me with gratitude
and offers me her eyes of dreamless stars
that gleam with every soul who ever lives.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus stands at his stall in the market around the Ziggurat of Ishtar where he sells Eyes of Dreamless Stars for three gold coins to seekers of the heart.

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

Hazy Dreamscape Of Truth
© Surazeus
2026 08 09

Searching for the hazy dreamscape of truth,
that shrouds my soul in private memories
of my childhood and youth decades ago
with cultural ambience that glows no more
in cities far away across the land,
I wander amused in halls of trite verse.

Riding with Death in her Carriage of Time,
lounging with Wisdom to sing of Myself,
stopping with Faith in wood where roads diverge,
gazing with Sorrow at Harp of the Bridge,
burning with Madness for Heavenly Light,
I analyze how atoms spark my brain.

Though I try to erase mask of my face
from tangled passions of my special vibe
to extract universal principles
from specific events of fraught desire,
my divine psyche, every human shares,
refracts cosmic mind through my mortal brain.

Opposing principles of governance
frame every social system humans form
through constant contest for authority
between desires of private individuals
and power of the law-enforcing state
to balance progress between strife and love.

To simplify complex process of change
that gears social functions of power games,
prophets proclaim political contests
can be reduced to slogans people chant
when they gather to express common will
through the Royalists and the Communists.

No matter how much societies change,
transforming from villages to empires
till democracies replace monarchies,
the fight remains between both Rich and Poor
to maintain or dissolve wealth hierarchies
that would legalize special privilege.

The Capitalist funds production of goods,
extracting matter to make things we use,
then the Communist disperses the goods,
ensuring every person may live well,
but, whether rich or poor, we eat the same,
and all return to dust after we die.

Alive in moderate state of my progress
still halfway between failure and success,
I live in my one home in some small town
far from ancestral homeland of my heart
where I share visions of my mortal mind
with immortal god of the internet.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus feels heart-aching nostalgia of duende for the ancient ancestral homeland of his heart where he has not lived in ten thousand years.

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

Competent Sense Of Self
© Surazeus
2026 08 08

Because his heart is based on principles
of honest expression about his thoughts
through brave respect for every living soul,
his mind constructs competent sense of self
on solid foundation of thoughtfulness
that provides clear actions his hands perform.

Time disenrolls strict knot of happiness
though his attentive hands of vigorous faith
weave random strands of wisdom pulled from Earth
in pulsing matrix of his tangled thoughts
so he proclaims solutions of fair stance
based on insight he gains from unread tales.

No sceptered herald of dutiful pride
arrives with faith at gates of paradise
to call for council of bold citizens,
so he dares speak to disassembled crowds
sermons that advocate justice for all,
yet they threaten to destroy him with hate.

Snatched from attacking crowd of angry men
by angel dangling on thread of sky law,
he finds himself translated to round disk
bound by ropes beneath large hot-air balloon
that no angry eye on the ground perceives,
and settles safely in chariot of fire.

Eager to return to his nuptial bower,
where bride of his heart waits in marble hall
for blessing of his heart to conjure life,
he strings taut yew bow with respectful hands
and fires his sharp arrow of justice straight
to kill rebellion against his fair rule.

Translated far from crowded city maze,
where hordes of angry men assert their rights
to live free from oppression of blind gods,
brave Lucifer steps from sky ship of truth
and stands before old bearded Jupiter
who praises him for his mission complete.

Accustomed to immortal fruits of faith,
that bloom from serpent-guarded Tree of Knowledge,
he ponders mind-nature of mortal men
who fight for their own selfish needs with hate,
unable to perceive grand view of life
that gods in temples try to organize.

Though fallen from disk of the balloon ship,
strong Sariel stands in the teeming crown
and strums taut strings on Lyre of Mercury
then sings enchanting melodies of hope
that cause angry men in rebellious crowd
to weep with sorrow for peace they have lost.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus joins Sariel at the Crippled Pegasus Cafe by the River Styx to eat burgers and drink apple cider as they chat about politics in Elysium.

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

Forgetful Kingdom Of Death
© Surazeus
2026 08 08

Every dawn I walk out into the world
I gaze long moment at the blazing sun
to see face of Apollo in its light,
that wise God of Healing and Archery
who maintains order with logic of truth
from reason through analysis of facts.

I taste sweet rind of Earth in juicy peach
which I pluck from the Ancient Tree of Truth
where we meet for our secret tryst of love
to share fresh fruit we gather with our hands
that seals our hearts with sacred bond of trust
no thief could break between flesh of our souls.

Before we wander on long nowhere road
straight into forgetful kingdom of death,
we shall hold hands and dance upon the hill
that knows our secret passions we would hide
till pleasures of our bodies we must share
expands scope of our mutual consciousness.

Though sadness about creatures who have died
twists my heart with loops of potent grief,
I celebrate new life that springs each day
from mothers of each species on this globe
who nurture tender bodies with bright eyes
that knot our planet with progressive life.

After catching lithe fish from deep lake of hope,
we roast them over crackling flames of faith,
chew tender strips of scorched flesh with delight,
then lie relaxed on soft grass of respect
to hear song of water rippled by wind
so we understand mute kingdom of death.

Sparked awake by nothingness of death,
we open eyes of infinite delight,
then walk together where trees dance in peace,
far from lush lands where men with guns of greed
kill other men to control fertile land,
happy because we hear cute sparrows chirp.

Attentive to strange worries of the heart,
that burrow roots of sorrow in dark soil,
we stroll about this miraculous world
and share amazement at freedom to live
that brave people before us fought to win,
though we stay alert to thieves lurking near.

Since we are not our shadows on the Earth,
cast by light of the sun on land of time,
we travel to Valhalla on the hill
where are mothers carve our spirits from wood
so our bodies sprout children of our eyes
who will plant apple seeds above our graves.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus finds Sigmund and Brunhilde sitting under the apple tree by the feasting hall where they smile with delight to see the immortal singer of tales.

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

Ring Light Of My Heart
© Surazeus
2026 08 08

My mind perceives ethereal pulchritude
that emanates from beauty of your soul,
illuminated by ring light of my heart,
so you see special features of your being
reflected in clear mirror of my eyes
when you discern my affection for you.

Complex aspects of our weird universe
refract through diamond of my mortal brain,
illuminated by ring light of my heart,
so my dreaming brain can categorize
standard form of each material object
in conceptual frame of its changeless Idea.

Monstrous hunger of Cronus in sea cave
urges aggressive force of psychic fate,
illuminated by ring light of my heart,
so I slay demon of unconscious fear
to construct grand temple with his huge bones
when I forge spear from lightning of despair.

Vibrant passion of Dionysus swells
hot blood of my body with spark of wine,
illuminated by ring light of my heart,
so I dance with wild abandon of faith
to wake immortal spirit of my genes
that helps me grow into my divine being.

Intense expression of Apollo rings
taut strings on Lyre of Mercury with faith,
illuminated by ring light of my heart,
so I breathe deep ethereal soul of light
and chant grand epic of philosophers
to honor those who search for secret truth.

Brave wisdom of Athena speculates
clear vision of how our world operates,
illuminated by ring light of my heart,
so I investigate nature of being
to articulate its state in Dream Map
that helps me navigate to paradise.

Ideas of the Cosmic Craftsman shape
how atoms randomly gear chemicals,
illuminated by ring light of my heart,
so I expand conscious scope of my brain
to match concept of that Creative Force
which mindlessly designs our universe.

My heart beats with compassionate respect
for every conscious creature on our globe,
illuminated by ring light of my heart,
so I record name and deed of each being
born from the fertile womb of Mother Earth
and chart their progress to generate life.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus sets up the ring light to start his live stream, then leads his followers on social media in tour of the rebuilt Parthenon to meet new Athena Goddess of Truth.

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

Neurons Of Conceptual Worlds
© Surazeus
2026 08 08

Our galaxy that swirls inside my mind
weaves dreams of creatures on large pulsing globes
in flashing neurons of conceptual worlds
through neural network of my sea-sponge brain
so I dream life of every conscious soul
incarnate in organic beings of hope.

My mind that glows inside our galaxy
compiles lost memories of each dreaming soul
in virtual model of the universe
based on experience of urgent life
all my ancestors express when they mate
to generate new body before death.

All objects that exist in forms of matter
are composed of numbers that regulate
expansive combinations of small atoms
that spiral from first flash of the big bang,
for they are limited by bounds in space
since shape of numbers rules the universe.

Archangel Michael, without wings or sword,
lounges in small temple by sparkling pool
among trees with apples, peaches, and pears,
and contemplates strange vastness of the world
that teems with mindless atoms of pure light
congealed in tangled strings of pulchritude.

Grown old with wrinkled skin and long gray hair,
Archangel Michael in white cotton robe
remembers courage of his ardent youth
when he fought devils from harsh desert lands
to guard lush paradise of Elysium
and maintain kingdom of Heaven on Earth.

With fervid passion of the loyal knight
he battled Satan on Hill of Cracked Skulls
to drive invaders from the Holy Land
where Jesus Galatinus ruled as king
over seven colonies in Galatia
long after Jesus Christus died on Patmos.

Our mortal bodies are contained by bounds
of physical frames within time and space
that limit forced expression of our minds
so we are temporary nodes of flesh
that incarnate immortal soul of genes
who lives in descendants our hope creates.

When Archangel Michael passes away,
his wife Tamar, great-granddaughter of Jesus,
covers his body with white cloth of faith
as eight angels lay his body in tomb
where skull of Isaiah chants psalm of life
how we are atoms of the universe.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus visits Archangel Michael in his garden estate on the coast of Galatia where they chat about the old days when they defeated Satan and his gang of thieves.

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

Born From Silver Stones
© Surazeus
2026 08 07

Too far away to hear song of the cloud,
three faceless children born from silver stones
might understand why grass desires to bloom
on the electric moon nobody owns,
or else their mother may pluck the mushroom
that readjusts framework of hungry minds.

Rough hands dig in wounded heart of the Earth
where they uncover torso of Apollo
that beams with brilliant light of inner truth,
sweet as ripening fruit from Tree of Life
which bursts with starlight when they bite its soul
through translucent desire to breathe old songs.

No blue fish swims in glass bowl of the moon,
yet Feng Yi rises from attentive flames
on Phoenix wings of psychic harmony
to beam her soul through crackling radio
with heart-enchanting melody of faith
that startles Hercules awake at dawn.

Since she supports progressive state of being
too radical for extreme hopefulness,
Sigmund shares his eyes with hungry ghosts
so they can eat sweet grief of lonely souls
as juice that nurtures bitter river gods
who never return the dream wings they borrow.

Surprised by sudden blossom of new books,
Maria photographs one thousand ships
that sail with billowed sails on snow-froth waves
as if their hearts, unborn from serpent eggs,
might still be fragile as the Absolute
who stares at dead tree by the clever sea.

Feng Yi returns to grocery store at dawn
where Hercules hauls boxes from the truck
with honey melons from the field of skulls
where countless warriors of ancient tribes
slaughtered each other in World War Nineteen
till second coming of the Brain Machine.

Maria finishes building table from oak,
so she stands back in old stained overalls
to gaze with admiration at her work,
then Sigmund covers it with plates of food,
and pours glass of red wine for her to drink
as ravens gather on rain-wet phonelines.

Safe in hazardous confines of his mind,
Hercules redefines reality
in terms of how Feng Yi paints the swift horse
with graceful curves of innocent respect,
so Maria can escape harsh abuse,
driving Boston to Seattle in rain.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus welcomes Maria to Seattle where he helps her find an apartment and a job at the city library where she helps angels hide in books of blank pages.

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

Seashore Of Endless Worlds
© Surazeus
2026 08 07

Let us meet on seashore of endless worlds
so we can measure the infinite sky
and savor passion of the boisterous waves
that stir our hearts with restless faith in love,
then we can build our homes from empty shells
and study flow of time with sparkling sand.

While we dance on seashore of endless worlds
we can share lost ancestral memories
to find the common Mother of Mankind
whose dreams program how all our brains perceive
strange beauty of this world that gives us form
so we can sing world hymn in harmony.

Since we play on seashore of endless worlds
with friends we have known since our younger days,
and friends who have arrived just yesterday,
we weave twigs with leaves into sturdy boats
to float across Abyss of Nevertime
so we can find new lands where children dwell.

Though we float on seashore of endless worlds
to find pure treasures hidden in the deep
that we can transform into wings of flight,
we always return to broad beach of sand
where children spring from children of the light
who smile with joy in gusting winds of time.

Safe in caves on seashore of endless worlds,
we find the heart of darkness in our eyes
till we extract bright gems from nothingness
that gleam with first flash of the flaring forth
so we can light the Lamp of Liberty
and find each other when wild tempests roam.

Still alive on seashore of endless worlds,
frail bodies molded from soft swirling sand,
we build enormous palaces from clouds
where everyone feasts on fruit of the Earth
till waves of change surge from the lightless deep
and crush our spirits back to wordless sand.

Souls reborn on seashore of endless worlds,
we gather around the small ziggurat,
where Tethys sits enthroned in fish-scale robe,
and watch her son Alpheus roast whale meat
to feed five thousand people with brave faith
while Metis breastfeeds Athena with love.

Long dispersed from seashore of endless worlds,
we live in sprawling cities of tall towers,
driving cars in maze of elusive wealth,
but some pause in routine of daily work
when their hearts hear timeless song of the sea
that calls for us to return home again.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus teaches young Athena and her brother Apollo how to play the Lyre of Mercury while their grandmother Tethys wanders in the vast maze of the world looking for me.

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

Sheer Joy Of The Dance
© Surazeus
2026 08 07

For nothing more than sheer joy of the dance
Tellus explores how her lithe body moves
through fluid expression of wordless grace
as she expands from darkness of sea caves
to understand contours of river vales
while she floats clandestinely in free trance.

Startled by sudden attack of three men
who gallop toward her with greedy intent,
Tellus turns and flies on ethereal breath
back to secret cave on the rugged slope
where she conceals her soul in anxious gloom
till they decide she changed into the tree.

Emerging from dark cave of hungry hope,
on cautious steps that doubt firmness of faith,
Tellus creeps past the snake-infested tree,
then huddles inside the large hawthorn bush,
munching berries as she studies pink blooms
to understand strange beauty of their swirls.

Assured cruel kidnappers have gone away
by eerie susurration of insects
that cause electric stones of faith to buzz,
Tellus rises slowly upward from safe haven
to stretch her legs and arms up to white clouds,
imagining swan wings sprout from her heart.

Inspiring deep thick air of afternoon,
that swells her body huge as pulsing hills,
Tellus explores how her lithe body moves
with axial movements of dynamic flow
through locomotor steps of cautious leaps
to bound in sudden burst of ecstasy.

To sway while anchored to solidity
of undulating Earth through fluid form,
Tellus expresses intense passion of her heart
to transcend binding gravity of fear
and soar on broad angelic wings of hope
as she accepts limits of psychic flight.

Enclosing vast persona of desire
back inside coiled contingency of time,
Tellus lounges languidly on sly slope,
gasping deep for breath of divine delight,
and with bright laughter of her heaving breast
releases shock of pleasure in sweet joy.

Three men hiding behind stones of desire,
watch Tellus dance in worshipful surprise,
then realize with chagrin of humble pride
that pure divinity of graceful art
cannot be possessed by obsessive hands,
so they secretly protect her from harm.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/08/…

Orpheus strums Lyre of Mercury and chants wordless melodies of passionate desire while Tellus dances on stage in the Temple of Artemis before the awed crowd of worshippers.

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