Raised Fist Of Desire
© Surazeus
2026 01 31

Glass city clenches raised fist of desire
with knuckles whitened by harsh winter light
that signs its name in smoke along gray docks
with brute authority of iron rules
that click sharp as rosary beads in the head,
each prayer grim bargain struck with appetite.

Since power prefers mirror of respect
instead of human face that hides intent,
it studies angled posture of slow grins
that pass for brave conviction on the stage
where mortals portray gods with human grace
before assassination of the heart.

Power sits at home in slippers and robe,
and sips hot tea while counting silver spoons
passed down as heritage from merchant kings
when fathers harden sons with silver coins
as profits kept in ledgers by the hearth
through blessings rationed thin on winter nights.

History enters hall of haughty tycoons,
dragging rusty anchor through living rooms,
to offer glass of wine with palsied hand
to faithful dogs who always bark on cue,
while those who bite the feeding hand will bleed
black tears of sorrow in the surging sea.

Young heroes seeking glory in the game
may trip on names and dates of broken vows
when they attempt to wake from gold-filled vault
blind ghost of Fortune who requires their hand
in bargain with the Devil bought with hope
to steal the pot of truth from leprechauns.

Cracked radio recites weird measured calm
of aching violins that makes wives cry,
while sirens teach hard streets the sharper truth
that strength and wiles will always win the day
in second civil war to rule the world
fought long between the Joker and the Thief.

Shy savior who appears from swirling smoke
feels power pulse from bruise beneath his skin
as weather front that chooses who will freeze
which leaves dark print of ash at tender touch,
yet when he wields lost sword of just reward
his bullhorn voice is silenced by cruel lies.

Still when he stands on tower of lost faith,
stripped of awe at grand principles of good,
he feels brute power shiver with torn wings
as moth caught in vast spider web of rage,
strange truth that dies when he names it aloud,
yet rises strong when he names it again.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus wander streets of Boston covered in endless swirls of delusional snow to find the new messiah who will free the world from tyranny.

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

Fields Of Mute Bones
© Surazeus
2026 01 31

Young silent menace wanders mountain trails
to find ghosts of her childhood by the lake
where flowers transform our bodies of flesh
to unseen beauty of assertive faith,
yet search for secret identity fails
through revelation of the falling rain.

Awake in forest of anxieties
without broken lamp of Diogenes,
he gathers apples in basket of faith,
yet ponders cost of his self-sacrifice
to save the world from tyranny of greed
when men destroy what they cannot possess.

When she brings wet lavender to his home
and gives him cinnamon of her desire,
he gives her cheerful sparrow of his heart,
so they sit by the pool of gold moonlight
and smile shyly as they eat apple pie
while they invent new language of their love.

Her song of longing wakes him from strange dream
so he gathers stones of the mountain trail
to repair crumbling wall of paradise
and fix the leaky roof of their small house
to keep her warm and dry in winter rains
that weave new rivers in fields of mute bones.

Because his homeland has become deep well
that fountains sorrow from his wounded chest,
he gives loaves of bread with honey and nuts
to all his neighbors in dark anxious woods,
then kneels before shrine of the faceless god
carved from scented pine that gleams in ice rain.

While he is sweating in fever of fear,
she nourishes his wisdom-wounded heart
with milk of stellar light drawn from the moon
that writhes trapped in limbs of the hawthorn tree
though she prays to the impossible sky
for miracle from stones that question why.

Stopping as she gathers herbs in dark woods,
she observes the clock of infinite time
that ticks in trunk of the elegant tree
to measure transformation of her heart
urged by pain to assume passionate love
for every creature living in the world.

Breathing ethereal spirit of the moon,
she determines to remain honorable
with plan to survive evil of this world,
so she hugs him when he wakes from weird dream,
and caresses his cheek with ghostly hand
that dissipates into swirls of snowflakes.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus reaches out his hand to caress cheek of Eurydice as her ghost dissipates into swirls of snowflakes that shroud the land with her faint song.

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

Find Tellurian Beryl
© Surazeus
2026 01 31

I will never tire of this spectacle
of humans fighting each other for power
for that is all we have done to each other
through ten thousand years of the miracle
we call strange passion of living in peril
on sacred quest to find Tellurian Beryl.

Dark energy of life that moves our souls
in harmony with seasons of sea tides
contrives no grand goal of hope, yet abides
as blind lust driving us to play our roles
in global theater of tragic fame
that bleeds with wealth from idol without name.

Thus I record with chronicles of fear
senseless splendor of love we dare express
stumbling across Bridge of Forgetfulness
to win ruthless grace of the puppeteer
who mocks our victories with hollow praise
even as we transcend each psychic phase.

I shall not think of those I love as dead
though they are ghosts my song revives with care
for grief of loss fuels energy we share
till they are but faint shadows in my head
who build snow demon on our sun-bright yard,
safe in paradise where I still stand guard.

No more do I feel terror of the grave
for that small hole in surface of this world,
where I rest after I play cosmic herald,
converts my body to its spirit wave
which beams my voice to radio of faith
so you hear haunting song of my star wraith.

Awake in higher consciousness from pain
that spurs our mental growth from animal
to god whose thoughts are philosophical,
I grasp dire emptiness of social gain
entrapped by fraud of mental suffering
which I forge as horcrux in magic ring.

Inured to agony of knowing fate
that calculates how every soul will die,
I search for Ungod in soul-empty sky
till I know how to extract love from hate
in progress that blooms from truth I believe
to generate new life our hearts conceive.

Startled awake from dream of crowded towns,
I float in viridescent haze of tunes
that fill my sky with hundred million moons
bright as fire-lit forts on mist-shrouded downs
where my angelic heart becomes more feral
when I gaze deep in found Tellurian Beryl.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus inspects the Tellurian Beryl with a loupe to comprehend strange mystery of divine consciousness that emanates from the pain-forged human brain.

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

Masked With Seraphic Light
© Surazeus
2026 01 31

Embrace my body when I die, great Earth,
so I may live masked with seraphic light
bestowed as grace by angel of my heart
who congregates in one immortal Muse
all female ancestors who weave my soul
from their memories that program how I love.

Ascension on effective wings of faith
provides pure psychic energy of hope
for me to dance on light quicksilver toes
on winding path around harsh obstacles
so I evade cruel Death in Slough of Despond
when I transform on whirring edge of night.

Blind Mother Sea creates from beams of light
these heavy bodies of muscles on bones
through which immortal spirit of our genes
transcends immensity of pulsing byss
along jeweled streams to sheltering lakes
where we rise from water to walk on Earth.

While hard Earth, carved in curves by wind and rain,
supports our journey to the Promised Land,
she shelters our frail bodies in her heart
when temporary nodes of conscious souls
wither and decay till we fade away
and sleep while our children maintain our soul.

Perennial flowers bloom from corpse of God
whose chemical engine of chugging veins
urges passionate response of tense hope
as Isis searches every land on Earth
to find his severed limbs of rotten flesh
and sew fragments of Horus in one mind.

Now wild Prometheus, restored to life
by Doctor Frankenstein in castle tower,
presides over corporate empire of wealth
that binds sovereign nations with strands of greed
in global state of fraught relationships
as fractured federation based on faith.

Yet Queen of Maytime, rising from despair,
still burning bright with holy taunts of prayer,
howls wild with mantra of the flower child
to rule war-torn world as Lord of Misrule
so Jesus joins with Buddha on high hill
to flash the world awake with blinking eye.

All brutal tyrants grasping reins of power,
who try to kill all who oppose their rule,
exhaust their souls from bitter rage of hate
when Earth embraces them with gentle arms
and snuffs out flames of war so trees of fruit
may bloom from corpses of their rotten souls.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus stands over graves of Midas, Pluto, Herod, Napoleon, Hitler, and Stalin, and plays lyre of Mercury to sing elegy about how all tyrants are mortals blinded by fear.

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

Tathagata With Nine Eyes
© Surazeus
2026 01 30

When she travels back to land of her birth,
small island ever floating in blue mist,
she finds photos and relics of the past
as treasures that vibrate with psychic signs
containing spirits her ancestors beam
that preserve their memories in mute form.

When she opens old leather-covered book
to read poems her great-grandmother composed
concerning life of curious characters
who lived in village by the mountain lake,
dust of her long-vanished soul from the page
causes her to sneeze as she starts to cry.

Fragile photo with crumbling edges gleams
with gray fading ghost of the slender girl
wearing long batik skirt and white lace blouse
whose body aged and vanished long ago,
wrinkled and thin as long vine in moist heat,
eyes black with beauty of the midnight moon.

She rides Garuda halfway round the Earth
to visit village by the muddy stream
and walk in grove of old banana trees
where her ancestors lived six thousand years,
lush paradise now teeming with small cars
that crowd narrow roads in vast city maze.

She opens tin box hidden in the drawer
to find small jewel her ancestor found
eight hundred years ago one afternoon
when he was hunting demons in dark woods
on slope of Mount Semeru where swift birds
lead him to cavern of One-World God.

Enchanted by tune of the Gamelan
that rings with voice of Nyai Roro Kidul
in sun-gleaming temple of Achintya,
she ponders oneness of all deities
who emanate from supreme nothingness
to manifest multiple states of mind.

She feels glow deep in vastness of her heart
emptiness of truth that beams energy
composing all material forms of being,
so she takes new selfie with her eye-phone
and posts it on her social media site
to preserve ancestral soul of her heart.

Having worked her way up to state of love
for every creature living on this Earth,
she becomes Tathagata with nine eyes
as she glides gracefully on glowing clouds
when she returns home to Oconia
where she eats Batavia soup with her family.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus kneels with Nyai Roro Kidul in temple of Saraswati who plays Veena and sings epic tale about the life of Rice Goddess Sri Dewi.

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

World King By Accident
© Surazeus
2026 01 30

Commencing slide into abyss of faith,
we try to surf electric waves of truth,
but tumble laughing with frantic delight,
sprawled across fraught landscape of broken skulls
because our faces are erased by light
though we humans invent magical tools.

Despite arduous task assigned by God
to build social system from psychic mud,
we skip with carefree joy of happy fools
in haunted valleys of Elysian Fields
to rescue children from church-funded schools
in scenes depicted on Achillean shields.

Digging trench to assemble water main
which channels spirit energy of rain,
Daedalus directs construction project
to link our hearts across Antarctic waste
according to plans of the Architect
on which our social system will be based.

Arrest of Midas and Herod at last
will prove the second civil war is past
when journalists reporting latest news
find Isaiah mute on the White House lawn
after he escapes with help of the Muse
from gulag prison of the Golden Dawn.

While twanging electric guitar on stage
to sing lyrics that express youthful rage
against machine of empire we oppose,
Bacchus collapses from huge heart attack
that blooms from his heart as angelic rose,
recorded live on film with the laugh track.

Mask of his face illuminated bright
when Fame finds Mad Prophet with truth spotlight,
Phoebus declares campaign for President
when he preaches salvation by faith of works,
then finds himself World King by accident,
so he rules wisely without power perks.

Electrocuted by conceptual wire
of language code programmed for global choir,
Jove plays police with authority voice
with crucial help from lamp clown Lucifer
who preaches truth by democratic choice,
conceived through Liberty by Jupiter.

Crowned God by Melusine and Guinevere,
to nurture people as the Puppeteer,
new World Messiah floats on pyramid
as Big Brother watching all with One Eye
to guide our growth beyond being Hominid
till I fall head-first from Heavenless sky.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus sits all day at Desk of Dreams in Realm of Ideas and fashions new puppet to play Messiah Sleuth who will save America.

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

Pencil Of Secret Codes
© Surazeus
2026 01 29

Not clever enough to avoid the trap
of telling sick jokes to the lizard king,
cute ray of sunshine dressed in methane skirt
nurses child of the devil with black milk
while chewing the pencil of secret codes
that crouch with moon toads in abandoned mines.

Adjusting perspective through edgy truth,
she deals with hilarious opposites
that pivot around Still Point of all time
within framework of cerebral concepts
based on project to design new world view
that deconstructs imperial rule with lies.

Misdirect focus of attentive greed
from propaganda project to brainwash
fools willing to believe religious tales
presenting miracles as measured facts
which support grand state ideology
so we can see essential truth of being.

She surfs event horizon of star waves
with graceful anguish of lonely respect
through slow revolving door of formal change
programming how we understand the real
based on aggressive twinkle of brain stars
that twitch in cosmic wind of endless change.

Raindrops paint dry dirt with radiant eyes
that dazzle hearts of young vivacious ghosts
who count how many crows fly outside time
forever west to find where the sun hides
with sharp intention of untampered books
to build palace of notes from broken bones.

Immaterial orchids by garden pool
explain confusion about soul rebirth
involving various objects without names
that we assemble inside walls of stone
with plan to purchase from ghost in the cave
house of the haunting melody we play.

Amorphous desire of rational fate
urges me to invent new simple words
that lurk on edge of aesthetic regret
through intellectual game of puzzling charge
based on sensational spark of dawn light
that misleads progress of our retrospect.

Social collision between private kings
and public jesters over whose world view
will better assimilate in one myth
psychic trauma every human endures
transforms countless warring states of the Earth
in global drama no one wants to play.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus walks around the crowded streets of London with boxes of pencils he tries to sell to homeless poets who lounge around the fountain of Neptune.

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

Curse Of Global Fame
© Surazeus
2026 01 29

This collapse of our old world view is no loss
because blind butterflies carry gold stones
to build colossal web of fragile words
from shining filaments of memories
which maps how glass bees pollenate our brains
with frantic visions of escaping cars.

When first my pencil beautifies the world
with breathing figures sprung from rancid eggs,
I purchase prospects to give soul delight
with new creation blooming from fake sight
that spurs my deathless passion to transcend
hard obstacles that block my noble path.

Trapped deep in maze of my seraphic theme,
I hide in vain from curse of global fame
to survey blissful wonders of the sky
we share with every living soul on Earth
which should elate our brains with wishful keys
that opens gate to splendid hall of fears.

Celestial Salem settled long on Earth
decays from endless centuries of change,
no longer calm from lost serenity
despite how high my Muse ascends to Heaven
with balmy wings now crippled by contest
to mold weird vision in tablets of fire.

Blinded by radiance of her bitter eyes,
Damon guards Aurora with hard work,
adjusting parts of engines with steel tools
in brick garage near highway of brave wealth
that shimmers on ethereal plain of hope
beside the warehouse full of romance books.

I fix my ardent view on moon-haze goal
to map whole history of our spinning world
with tale of each lost soul on signless road
composing chronicle of long-dead gods
who spread seraphic pinions with intent
to savor anguish of this comic hour.

Majestic grandeur of thundering flash,
that luminates abyss between our worlds,
expands from passion of my mountain wing
when Zephyr dances in bomb-shattered church
to gather pages torn from book of dreams
and weave them in new global myth of fame.

We bear in trembling hands of honesty
fragments of our lost world view with care
with arduous task of intricate concern
to assemble new puzzle of world truth
which assimilates all religions in creed
that factors all obsessions in one myth.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus arranges fragments of our old world view on the round table of Avalon to comprehend wholeness of eternal truth in our hearts.

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

Crippled By Attentive Lies
© Surazeus
2026 01 28

Whatever the wind carries my heart will lose
because its pain-carved riverbed contains
memories of my youth scattered on dry plains
in strange country with language devils speak
through riddles about my fugitive past
since time omits my being from beams of light.

Fake mask I wear through solidarity
with faceless strangers I meet on long roads
reveals no anger twisting my hard heart
with fierce solidity of transient truth
too terrible for children to recall
based on ambiguous stories of the fall.

Guilt-laced cape draped with calm alacrity
exiles my soul to vale of absent grief
shaped thick from shadows no one dares retrieve
though I walk crippled by attentive lies
in place unreconciled by correct laws
beneath renegade star of fate I sell.

Shape of my shadow, heavy on frail Earth,
regrets how guiding constellations prove
altered course is not incorrect way home
though I maintain calm dignity of fear
based on crumbling grace of abandonment
against belief people cling to with hate.

Penance purchased in marketplace of rage
contrives reward for deeds of wretched hope
despite concern innocent friends express
in proverbs tangled by electric words
that teach us how to survive lies we choose
if we should cover our tracks with sly laugh.

Because I think of how apples may fall
at bitter crack of brave barbarity,
I play my own ghost in bright morning glow
by treading iced path up high rugged hill
where I survey lush valleys of wheat farms
while flakes of snow swirl cutely from gray clouds.

Gestures of my fingers weaving weird words
manipulate auras beaming from brains
fractured by paradigm shift where old truths
reframe spooky perception by new faith
presenting morals for how we behave
as rules enforced by the world justice squad.

Amused by anguish of electric eyes
that glows with optimistic view of change,
I find my memories carried by the wind,
scattered as feathers on dry river shore
because I meditate ten million years
on how nothing is solved with honest tears.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus gathers memories of our childhoods and weaves new pair of wings based on blueprints left behind by Daedalus in the tower of illusions.

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

Build Empire Of Liberty
© Surazeus
2026 01 28

Through adulation of exploding stars
we celebrate national independence
from fascist gangsters wearing crowns of gold
to fight for justice and freedom for all
in name of democratic principles
on which we build empire of liberty.

Awake as angels in our holy mountains,
we dig our ancient names from soil of faith
to build enormous statue from our fear
that honors heroes who perform great deeds
to free every people from slavery,
inspired by ancient songs of troubadours.

Affirmative in action of the mind,
we join with refugees from many nations
to form world state with liberty for all
based on names of heroes on the black wall
digested by malice of billionaires
who fear romantic songs of the wild people.

Harmonious America unites
tribes from every nation of the world
in fierce contentious system of respect
beneath universal sky of the Ungod
whose spirit glows the more we love each other
as we unite to fight cruel men with guns.

We sing our elegies and jubilees
with humble hope to build safe paradise
for every person living on this globe
who work together sea to shining sea
to nurture new world born from all our hearts
with courage to face murderers with guns.

Each day the world ends in apocalypse
we clear away crimes evil men commit
to build new world from our wagons and boats
that we employ to find the Promised Land
where Liberty stands in Temple of Truth
to guide our way with fragile light of hope.

Though I fall wingless in the ring of fire
and walk the signless road of everywhere,
your love weaves new wings on my wounded heart
so I rise as Lucifer who bears light
to lead lost souls to Heaven we create
from prophet-singing skulls of our ancestors.

When I retrieve the Golden Fleece of faith
from lawless land of gangsters in gold castles
I stand on pyramid of the one eye
and give my testimony to the world
that we fight thieves and slavers with courage
though they shoot hundred million of us dead.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus carves name of each person murdered by gangster in the castle of gold on the great black wall of heroes that surround our land from sea to shining sea.

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

Way Too Far Away
© Surazeus
2026 01 27

Even though you seem way too far away,
remote as cold stars of unmeasured time,
my heart returns from void of snowy fields
so I can reach across abyss of fear
and give you treasure I found in the woods,
which must not be the shadow of my name.

Therefore I shall outline multiple paths
to gain majority of voiceless thoughts
across rugged terrain of secret hopes
where forsythia spills over river banks
in disabled meadow of broken doors
where curious children invent new myths.

Durable books contain our enterprise
to climb inflated hills of heritage,
impressive with knowledge of integers
introduced by jewels in faceless ponds
where mutual friends ponder new mystery
concerning novel ownership of faith.

Petulant lovers exchange moral jokes
based on productive game of give and take
fueled by fierce opposition to loss
despite arrogant state of curious doubt
that strengthens our fraught relationship well
enough to notice our hard-earned success.

Avoiding pitfalls every teacher maps
through pledge to investigate observed facts
with measured analysis based on fear,
we consolidate unspoken concerns
in clever proverbs old people recite
when they remember lessons learned from pain.

Through strife to become more consciously real
as organic being of chemical lust
I transcend bitter angst of suffering
which liberates my soul from prison camp
where my mind stays trapped after eighty years
though my body lounges in paradise.

Paradox of still shapes that never move
through shards of time devised by ticking clocks
reveals illusion of motion I rule
as spiral swirl computing finite curve
that arcs conceptual change of constant war
toward perfect impersonation of God.

Beyond the utmost bound of divine words
I follow knowledge on the Golden Path
through dream-tangled woods of pulsing masks
to catch electric star of blood-hot faith
that leaves me stranded in yard of your heart
so we can be together for all time.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus considers how distance between hearts of lovers provides energy for groundwork on which we base successful relationships with love.

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

Black Milk Of Daybreak
© Surazeus
2026 01 27

Once again we drink black milk of daybreak
while digging graves for our teachers and nurses
who tend festering wounds in doorless rooms
where the blind man writes with tooth of the snake
riddles on walls of museums and churches
that bleed words of truth in eyes of the ground.

Each morning we drink black milk of daybreak
to make room for more graves in empty clouds
where faceless ghosts of people with lost names
hide stories of harsh suffering they endure
deep in blinking hearts of red traffic lights
that signal our duty to oppose hate.

Each lunchtime we drink black milk of daybreak
while flames of world war consume garden trees
where Sulamith plays with serpent of truth
who recites riddles from book of fake lies
that prophesy fall of America
and rise of Zarathia to rule Earth.

Each evening we drink black milk of daybreak
while Albert plays electric violin
to raise soul of Odysseus from the dead
who catches capital bullets of rage
with psychic aperture of his blue eye
since he lives in the house with countless graves.

Each midnight we drink black milk of daybreak
since Margarete with the long golden hair
wanders in the house of the rising sun
to transform nuclear missiles of despair
into blackberry vines of innocence
so she can bake pies from our wounded hearts.

We decide to drink black milk of daybreak
because the bridge of happiness we built
collapses in swift River Styx of change
through urgent pride of honest arrogance
to assert principles of thought control
hidden by polished mask of Jupiter.

No one wants to drink black milk of daybreak
during the century of global wars
when angels in airplanes bomb paradise
as spies infiltrate foreign governments
till time assimilates nations of gangs
in peaceful United Nations of Earth.

I refuse to drink black milk of daybreak
after digging graves for millions of souls
who haunt me on long restless afternoons
so I record their names and tragic lives
in sacred chronicle of the blind crow
while I float in house of eight billion doors.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus welcomes Sulamith and Margarete into the house of endlessly opening doors so they can rest and eat a healthy meal.

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

Most Lonely Telephone
© Surazeus
2026 01 26

If I ever forget why children cry
I will become the most lonely telephone
that never rings across the countryside
where I hang out on trunk of the old elm,
ignoring angels falling from the sky
in terrible war against silver planes.

When she finds the gold-spotted serpent egg,
Tellus slips it in straw basket of grass,
then runs graceful as lithe deer in the woods
to small cave by the gleaming pool of gems
where she fries it in the skillet to eat,
then leans against old elm to count the crows.

Young slender man in brown suit and red tie
steps from the motorcar in polished shoes,
and asks the girl with flowers in her hair
where he can find the waterfall of wrens,
so she leads him through shadows of old elms
while chattering about how angels cry.

Three grim men in black suits with machine guns
burst into the grove by the waterfall
where Belenus stares in shock of surprise,
but Tellus twirls around and kicks the guns,
and fights all three goons in martial combat,
whacking them on their heads with willow wand.

After they run away into the woods,
Tellus sits on the grass and spreads her skirt,
then offers him sandwich of beef and cheese,
so he devours her lunch with eager joy,
then recites poetry while they drink wine,
and she dances gleefully at sunset.

Embraced in twinkle of eternal stars,
Belenus and Tellus make love with relish
of passionate bliss with blooming of flowers
that tremble when bees drink nectar of faith
to pollinate their pistils from their stamens
till sunburst scatters dew to soak lush hills.

When their son Lugus reaches eighteen years
he joins the royal rifle regiment
sent overseas to hills of Hindustan
where he climbs rugged trail to mountain cave
and falls in love with graceful Parvati
who plays haunting melodies on the flute.

While Lugus is building new four-wheeled wagon
and Parvati is frying Paratha bread,
grand silver airplane of imperial power
drops righteous bomb that blasts their mountain hut
and rips their bodies so they lie on grass
trembling in pain as they embrace and kiss.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus visits graves of Lugus and Parvati with letter that Tellus wrote with trembling hand just after her eightieth birthday in the garden of her loss.

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

Evasive Algebra Of Faith
© Surazeus
2026 01 26

I have never wondered when I will die
because Death will unalive my hot soul
so suddenly my conscious sense of self
will puff out into lightless nothingness
as I fall endlessly in sea of gloom
and dissipate into light of the moon.

While still aware of pulsing pulchritude
that gushes hotly through my quivering flesh,
I grasp at beauty of clear nothingness
by letting go deep breath of agony
so I release grip on meaning of life
which I designed to balance me afloat.

My heart beats wild with time-ascending wings
to gallop swiftly along river shores
beyond horizon of the flaming dawn
with eager passion to fly among clouds,
but stumble into evening glow of fear
and lie unbodied by the singing tree.

Calm stillness cloaking me with cricket chirps
enshrouds my naked soul in twilight gloom
of blue dispersal fading into thoughts
concerning how roots curl into my flesh
and suck my body dry of bitter tears
so I spring laughing into flash of day.

Implied assertion of extreme regret
explains foundation formed from graphic seeds
yet neutral to contrived accomplishments
which caravans of blind angels broadcast
through bulletins of wedding catalogs
that strikes with valid voltage of respect.

Alone surviving on wisdom of truths,
claimed as welfare by winners of rigged games,
I sample unique response of grim gods
restricted by signals of scheduled tricks
encoding sensors of routine upgrades
contrary to testament of the seer.

Segments of nature model innocence
by which we network merchant companies
retrieving options of unlicensed games
through hybrid justice still unjustified
in context of agreements no one signs
with boolean bankruptcy of avatars.

Because I know exactly when I die,
based on evasive algebra of faith,
I play appellant in court of brave lies
enforced by discipline of holy jokes
encrypted as dependence on vain trust
since I cannot duplicate my dream brain.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus considers joining the army after high school, but decides instead to play the guitar and sing country songs in smoky bars in farm towns along the Mississippi River.

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

Weird Music Of The Stars
© Surazeus
2026 01 26

Acerbic laughter through fury of art
inspires unwavering vision of the cool
with meticulous craft of ardent truth
based on generous dedication to love
which serves our bodily autonomy
for dancing to weird music of the stars.

Refusal to perform heart-broken clown
for blood-thirsty crowd of fierce warriors,
who battle tyranny of legal words,
remains the primal goal of my project
to be intimate with mask of my soul
that conceals my secret identify.

Unafraid to speak the obvious truth
about class we inherit from dead gods,
because we thrive with ruthless honesty,
I inhabit random gender of fate
through fertile generation of new ghosts
who animate robotic shell of hope.

Laser-focused on trouble spots in spells
my brain unspools from anguish of respect
through chance survival of exploding words,
I explore uncanny valley of lies
to trace journey of my strange life from Hell
in process of finding my place on Earth.

Born in bright valley of nine singing skulls,
I know mute sadness in the wings of crows
that guide my path across the trackless waste
where I can change into wolf of my heart
to protect my family from greedy thieves
because we have always lived by the sea.

Long prayers to ocean tides and mountain peaks
conjure ghosts of my ancestors from stones
smoothed by millions of years of gentle waves
so I can ask them what experiences
that they endured program how I see life
as manifestation of my desires.

Numinous phantom of the holy pearl
glows before my eyes on wind-swept beach,
who gazes deep in hollow of my heart
with countless eyes of stars in her moon face,
so I offer apple of naked trust
which she transforms into my pulsing heart.

Ferocity through humorous restraint
braids each random day I experience
in spooling film of pretty memories
to frame bitterness of abandoned grief
as menace I embody when I sing
empathic clarity of selfless love.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus finds Jennifer drinking gin by the juniper tree in the uncanny valley of ghosts who wear faces of famous tragic heroines.

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

Nothingness Of The Universe
© Surazeus
2026 01 26

Brilliant nothingness of the universe
fills my heart with swirling rivers of joy
for I have heard soul of the water sing
four hundred million years of turning time
in melodies that vibrate through my mind
so all my cells ring with pure cosmic chime.

Aching nothingness of the frozen hour
traps my dreaming mind in form of my body
so I breathe deep celestial thoughts of light
to sing in harmony with flashing stars
that weave my soul in tapestry of time
which signifies my being with secret name.

Urgent nothingness of my daily task
rewinds my memories into ringing phones
so I call everyone alive on Earth
to ask if they remember timeless hour
when our common First Mother woke from dream
and sang first wordless song of human hope.

Fertile nothingness of wide rain-soaked fields
provides encouragement of sacred code
which cows express in wisdom of fresh grass
so I play flute of soft mercurial wail
that wakes eight billion souls from water dream
with passion to attend World Festival.

Patient nothingness of hand-fashioned crafts
supports productive factories of faith
so we construct new civil infrastructure
from shattered ruins of our old world view
designed by cosmic Architect of Truth
who loves that we express true happiness.

Sterile nothingness of religious faith
deceives my heart with desperate belief
that my body will resurrect from death
if I believe some honest tribal king
who died two thousand years ago loves me,
so I love everyone before I die.

Coded nothingness of cultural myths
provides moral guide for how I perform
special role I compose from social tropes
when I play Tiresias in World War Three
as prophet of the Ungod no one sees
to lead faceless ghosts to the Promised Land.

Psychic nothingness of our empire state
frames national events with shards of truth
which I assemble as puzzle of facts
in global epic tale of noble deeds
when Jesus defeats Satan once again
so everyone lives together in peace.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus ponders the nothingness inherit in the somethingness of everything that exists as mental idea based on its material form.

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

Ride Carousel Of Fate
© Surazeus
2026 01 25

If the sky is doorway to everywhere,
opened wide by joy of my aching heart,
then I will soar into immensity
with awe at breathless beauty of all light
which I perceive with mind-expanding scope
of conscious passion for honest respect.

If owl of my heart, perched on broken branch
of faith in cosmic energy of love,
stirs ancient wings of silent urgency,
then I will find pure egg of soul rebirth
gleaming with crystal eyes inside my brain
as psychic battery charged with solemn words.

If holy cow of spirit-fueling milk
arrives at dawn across the misty field,
pulling wagon of bricks baked in the sun,
then I will build new temple for our god
who holds the spotted dragon egg of faith
with tender care of time-unspooling hope.

If opal gleaming on the signless road,
containing eyes of every long-dead god,
radiates pure wisdom of eccentric books,
then I will dig sacred river canal
so we can irrigate vast fields of wheat
that forms foundation of our empire state.

If angels guard our bodies while we vote
for who will rule our disorganized state
with random laws he thinks of in the bath,
then I will count how many apple seeds
lie scattered on the marble temple floor
where turtles analyze profits through loss.

If blind children ride carousel of fate
with sly plan to paint frescoes on church walls
depicting deaths of saints in accidents,
then I will travel toward the holy land
through flashing portal of argentine light
to find divine doctor who heals all wounds.

If my grandfather flies airplane of faith
low over rippling lake of secret snakes
who sing psalms in heavenly choir of ghosts,
then I will map every telephone pole
that connects our brains as the world wide web
in global marketplace of false ideas.

If I keep walking in circles of truths
in frantic chase for the most scathing joke
that exposes weakness of tyranny,
then I will carve runes on the rock of ages
cleft wide by earnest zeal of loyalists
so we can ride the carousel of fate.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus and Orion arrive with box of tools to fix broken engine that operates the cosmic carousel of fate so we can restore peace on Earth.

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

Tears Of Sad Mermaids
© Surazeus
2026 01 25

To find pure pearls from tears of sad Mermaids
I dive deep in dark sea of swirling fears
with pure celestial breath of cautious faith
where I face hungry demons of despair
in noble fight to safe humanity
from monsters lurking in gloom of our hearts.

I perform these actions in long day dreams
while sitting at desk in small cubicle
as one among many soul programmers
typing magic runes on keyboards of truth
to code whole history of humanity
in tales that chronicle our fight for Life.

Though bitter winds of winter blast bleak streets
with grim indifference Nature shows Mankind,
millions of people demonstrate with signs
proclaiming principle dear to our hearts
that every person breathing air of life
has equal right to liberty and justice.

These bromides, that sustained our hearts for years
through centuries of soul awakenings
and wars for freedom against slavery,
taste bitter now that our once noble state
teeters on shaken foundations of faith
at long-expected rise of tyranny.

Even this grand republic of free will,
which our fathers built with brave sacrifice,
crumbles now from rotten bureaucracy
asserted by aggressive gangs of thieves
disguised as masters of the money game
who seek to enslave us with credit debt.

Immortal spirit of the cruel dictator,
that possesses greedy men everywhere,
emerges in White House with bloody hands,
emboldened by fear millions of men feel
which Voldemort channels with magic wand
carved from Spear of Longinus into guns.

Yet when dictators of Satan appear
to manipulate minds of angry men
with hate to exploit people to gain wealth,
our brave messiah sleuth, with honest heart
honed by suffering, appears from our minds
to lead freedom fighters with flag of truth.

Minerva stands on pyramid of bones,
bold one-eyed watcher keeping our world safe,
to catch pure pearls as tears of sad Mermaids
that nurture our courage to fight for Life,
preserving state of world democracy
which blossoms as Tree of Life from our hearts.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus prophesies coming of messiah sleuth who will lead people of America in holy crusade to restore democracy through liberty and justice for all who live on this land sea to shining sea.

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

Time To Wake As The Earth
© Surazeus
2026 01 25

Time to round the building corner of fate
and ask the blind man in swan-feather cape
how children are reborn from sticks and stones
based on fake legends in old leather tomes
stolen from libraries by bitter trolls
who cannot find humans without weird souls.

Time to ride the rocket ship beyond fate
in dream trip captured on celluloid tape
long before angels had all left the Earth
to animate concept of the light word
tangled with emotions of gods in rooms
who play tragic lovers to jolly tunes.

Time to escape glass labyrinth of homes
constructed from code of dinosaur bones
despite commitment to holy crusade
contrived by bankers to monetize faith
because mad jester crowns himself world king,
proposing marriage to the skating rink.

Diana drives red Volkswagen at dawn
in splatter of rain from the Bible psalm
on crowded highway in large Texas town
with her son destined to play prophet clown,
who thinks about his bike with demon wings
despite how often the telephone rings.

Time to prove bent-space formula correct
by dream wizards from the Adventist sect
who worship sorcerer of butterflies
to calculate thought-twist of the next phase
we humans must dream-travel to evolve
with romantic tension lovers resolve.

Time to play honest game of chess with Death
in effort to translate what the tree says
about proper etiquette on the wood path
where we wrestle shadow of the pop quiz
before we build our house upon the sand
this shifts word dunes to redesign the land.

Time to grow up and become the adult
who sells secret prophecies of the cult
about Tzatziki-flavored kettle chips
that Jesus and Achilles share on trips
to explore landscape of Greenland with hope
humans will soon find peaceful ways to cope.

Dionysus searches for quiet spot
away from distraction of money games,
and listens to breath of planes among clouds
when obligations bluster past in wind,
knowing we decay as Self vanishes
at death just in time to wake as the Earth.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus calculates the time it takes for humans to evolve from fish to wingless angel, and how much longer to evolve into gods.

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

Super Beauty Of Wild Hearts
© Surazeus
2026 01 25

Far beyond super beauty of wild hearts,
faceless ghost in slime-clean gray business suit
withdraws money earned torturing mute books
from the automated teller machine,
and buys hamburger and fries for his lunch
before returning to work in the bank.

Yet laughing turtle in the pink tutu
dances gracefully on the iced mailbox
while clowns in red and yellow uniforms
beat people on the head with rubber bats
which transform into tinsel butterflies
that eat silver handcuffs off hands of kids.

Trapped in voiceless midnight of the glass church,
photocopied letters on wings of swans
arrive from Gobi desert in blue eggs
laid by famished horses in can of words
that wriggle into shape of wet clay dolls
who give each other flaming guns as gifts.

King Lear mistakes the rusty can of words
for slab of roasted beef as credit card
he thrusts in hourglass of unspooling fate
in vain attempt to purchased rugged cross
designed by blind woman with thirty arms
who sketches faces of children on doors.

Pretension to awakeness of the lamp
contrives new secret room of breathing walls
where millions of people without cell phones
bypass memories of traumatic events
by laughing as they swing in the playground
enclosed in glass dome on the misty moon.

Yet Ariadne tugs at broken thread
tangled in maze of quaint alleyway stores
to conduct memory trace with images
encoding characters from ancient myths
which always leads to Sunday morning church
where shadows of gods reverberate masks.

Kwan Yin reveals in jar of honey wine
shadow following shadow of my brain
as echo responding to sound of words
unspoken by shy lovers who grow old
together in house of the rising sun
where angel eyes are hammered in our masks.

At moonrise youngest woman in the world
drops eyes in glass of water to recall
how wings of ravens hide wild ocean tide
since color of milk reveals beating hearts
we drink to celebrate when empires fall
now based on super beauty of wild hearts.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus reads fake letter that flutters on butterfly wings in the Gobi desert that Jesus sent him asking about whatever happened to Clementine.

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

When God Wakes From Dream
© Surazeus
2026 01 25

Aware of wind and water in bright air,
Mike holds brass astrolabe in his left hand
made by Jamal al-Din ibin Muquin
three hundred sixty years ago from light
of stars that weave our bodies into souls
so he can see where he exists on Earth.

If absence of quantity represents
null value symbolized by great round eye
enclosing all that exists in one mind,
Mike feels diameter of nothingness
beam out from zero as circle of light
through first flash from which all atoms form shapes.

Placing warm hand on his shoulder with care,
Aryabhata explains in simple terms
relativity of motion to note
how we perceive while in the moving boat
still objects on shore move backward from us,
like stationary stars appear to move.

Bright sun who seems to watch us humans live
with silent glow of indifferent respect,
radiates from center of eight swirling globes
as we rotate through empty void of time
with undulating hum of psychic love
which generates our bodies from raindrops.

Heating metal of meteor that fell
in streak of fire from high Realm of Ideas,
Mike forges sword of honest self-defense,
then patrols river shore by fishing town
to fight sharp-toothed monster with golden eyes,
then hangs slain crocodile on rugged cross.

Bending steamed wood in circle propped with spokes,
Mike builds sun-round wheel for wagon of fate
which Helios invented to support
platform pulled by horses to transport goods
from farm fields to market stalls on wide roads,
which forms foundation of great empires.

Aware of his body composed with light
from atoms flashing bright since dawn of time,
Mike invents symbols encoded in words
to signify perceptions of his mind
which designs grand ontology of truth
defining cosmology of dream worlds.

Expressed by character of conscious sight,
our new global world view of what is real
blooms from brain of the genius seer who sings
riddles that explain how things operate
as atoms swerving willfully to weave
neural nets of love when God wakes from dream.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus meets Mike on the river shore where he roasts crocodile steaks on the small flat-topped pyramid which people purchase to eat while he sings heroic tales.

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

Treasure Chest Of Dreams
© Surazeus
2026 01 25

After I ransack treasure chest of dreams,
hidden by Pandora beneath her bed,
I might find ghosts of noble characters,
long worshiped as gods by long-vanished states,
struggling to express their stale points of view,
so I set their skulls on book shelves to sing.

Yet after I let all those ghosts escape
to haunt snow-frosted homes with Christmas trees,
I find Pandora by the kitchen sink
peeling potatoes, and hard-boiling eggs,
to cook delicious meal that warms my heart,
grateful I freed her from bitter regret.

After eating chicken and gravy dish,
that warms my heart with dreams of noble deeds,
I wander woods along the sparkling stream
where daisies bloom, and lithe goldfinches tweet,
as I follow haunting song of desire
which Pandora sings with uncanny joy.

Wearing long white gown with thick leather belt,
and coronet of flowers in her hair,
Pandora kneels in sunlit meadow grove
with hands caressing cheeks of spotted fawn
that gazes up at her with moon-black eyes
while she whispers and kisses his forehead.

Climbing ancient apple tree on high hill
where sharp-eyed hawk watches me with calm grace,
I reach my hand to pluck ripe fruit of love
but Nirah, serpent with star-flashing eyes,
hisses at me with aggressive umbrage,
so I breathe ethereal hope of respect.

"Before you take sacred apple of truth,"
lithe Nirah hisses with celestial voice,
"you must answer this riddle with brave poise
by telling me secret name of the house
where you enter blind, but exit with sight
that lets you see inner essence of being."

Entranced by reverie of my childhood,
when I sat all day at the classroom desk
learning to write letters that signify
sounds depicting objects, actions, and states,
I reply, "the house where I learned dream-sight
is called the school where humans see the truth."

Sitting with Pandora by the oak tree
among daisies along the river shore,
I give her basket of apples with love,
so princess of the city-haunting ghost
kisses my lips with passionate respect,
then laughs as we eat and share tales of life.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus photographs Pandora and Jesus as they pose in dress and suit for their engagement photos which they share on social media for all their friends to see their beautiful romance.

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

Time Of Startled Dreamers
© Surazeus
2026 01 24

Assembled in vast city of dark ice,
we demonstrate against cruel tyranny
and call for equal rights for every soul
who works with faith in our community
to create instead of destroy with hope
in our time of startled dreamers from Heaven.

Masked agents of cruel tyrant in the tower
assault our neighbors with aggressive hate
and drag them trembling in the bitter cold
so we bring bread from hearth of liberty
and bandages to heal their broken hearts
in our time of startled dreamers from Heaven.

Resurrected from television tombs
with bodies composed of engines and glass,
we challenge bullies of the fascist king
with recording cameras instead of guns
to chronicle abuse of human rights
in our time of startled dreamers from Heaven.

Untethered from ideal concept of freedom
where every person lives based on free will,
our bodies buzz with anguish of contempt,
shrouded by brilliant glare of tyranny
that blinds our eyes to paradise we lost
in our time of startled dreamers from Heaven.

Scattered in the waste land of lost ideals
when our noble world view of social progress
collapses into civil war from greed,
we find each other in the ring of stones
where we conspire to restore liberty
in our time of startled dreamers from Heaven.

Demonic laughter of dark winter storm,
congealed from spirit smoke of bitter rage,
looms over frosted land in purple surge
that breaks the silver heart of noble warriors
who struggle through thorny bushes of ghosts
in our time of startled dreamers from Heaven.

Suffocated by eyeless shade of faith
that howls at bleeding gate of paradise,
brave people of America assert
civil rights to assemble and speak truth
with trumpet voices that break down walls
in our time of startled dreamers from Heaven.

Black metal skies full of hunger-crazed crows
mourn over city streets of demonstrators
in thick polluted clouds of mocking angst
till one voice of our many hearts radiates
with luminescent beauty of bold faith
in our time of startled dreamers from Heaven.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus leads squad of justice warriors to defend innocent citizens against gangs of thugs committing terrorism against political opponents.

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

Pregnant With Forgotten Dreams
© Surazeus
2026 01 24

Cloaked in white sheet of ghostly attitude,
Ardith pretends to be the summer cloud
that floats benignly over rolling hills,
pregnant with forgotten dreams of lost souls
who would inhabit idols of dead gods,
then gives everyone slice of honeyed bread.

Deemed unfit for proud royal company,
Ardith wears mask of the black albatross
at parties in the London Underground,
pregnant with forgotten dreams of sad clowns
who wear gray suits of strict accountancy
as pirates of the global empire game.

Amazed by strangeness of the multiverse,
Ardith rides white horse on the carousel
to leap timelines through variants of our world,
pregnant with forgotten dreams of mad seers
who navigate political constraints
to ensure victory of democracy.

Amused by images of her false face
reflected on mirror masks people wear,
Ardith hosts party in the stately hall,
pregnant with forgotten dreams of gardeners
who transform wilderness of shadowed woods
to Garden of Eden where Josh plays god.

Startled by his shy confession of love,
Ardith stares at Josh with skeptical eyes
to understand true nature of his being,
pregnant with forgotten dreams of mechanics
who fix piston engines of cars and planes
which are time machines that only move forward.

Ignored by haughty elite of fine art,
Ardith poses nude in art gallery
to hide weird genius of analysis,
pregnant with forgotten dreams of blind painters
who recreate ontology of truth
vital to zeitgeist of our new world order.

Astonished by wiles of Odysseus,
Ardith weaves tapestry of world events
that chronicle our second civil war,
pregnant with forgotten dreams of scared soldiers
who weep when her brother Bob sings grim hymns
about the second coming of Perun.

Crowned our new World Goddess of Liberty,
Ardith rides chariot of fire with four angels,
pulled by six white horses of innocence,
pregnant with forgotten dreams of brave mothers
who teach children how to fight tyranny
as comrades in State of Zarathia.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus composes soul-stirring anthem of liberty and justice for all for the new State of Zarathia where every soul is equal in one global law.

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

Know How Apples Grow
© Surazeus
2026 01 24

These woods are mine because I am here now,
declares the wingless angel to the oak,
then looks for devil dancing in the dark
whose gold hair glows bright as the morning sun
because her green eyes know how apples grow
from stones to serpents with long rainbow wings.

Concealed in honeysuckle bush of fear,
the wingless angel watches bullets soar
beyond the destined point of history
where singing devil with three thousand eyes
gives melons to lost strangers on the road
because she knows the irony of loss.

Each wood boat floating on the river waves,
that flows from snow-white mountains to the sea,
requires our bodies understand how time
adjusts conceptual progress beyond death
since all organic creatures dissipate
to flashing atoms of attentive stars.

If time is thinner than pages in books
where stories of romantic partnerships
record the tragic comedies of love,
the singing devil might remember how
her body glows from first kiss of her fate
when she meets wingless angel by the lake.

In chasm breaking hearts that lovers bridge
words congeal frantic feelings into thoughts
with ardent heaviness of lonely hearts
so they bend undulating arc of time
with kiss that folds enormous galaxies
in tender vows exchanged to bind clear eyes.

No anger billows at imminent death,
retrieved through blunt refusal to concede,
when weeping devil with long curly hair
decides she will be strong in spite of pain
by breathing deep celestial energy
that fuels courage to endure suffering.

Perfume of fresh-turned Earth intoxicates
souls of wild children born from seeds of corn
who bring baskets of vegetables at dawn
to wingless angel and his devil bride
who sweetly kiss by the blackberry patch
while cows discuss philosophy of love.

When spirit of the sky comes down to Earth
and fills our bodies with fierce urgency
to dance and sing beyond the end of time,
the wingless angel and his devil bride
call refugees of war to gather safe
in walls of haven no tyrant can crack.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus searches the world to find his lost wings, but brings basket of apples instead to his devil bride who cooks supper in the temple of singing skulls.

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

One Sun-Sourced Tear
© Surazeus
2026 01 24

Eyes swirling far beyond eternity,
Sofia stands alone in crowded hall
in world museum of the weeping mother
before painting of mountains by the sea
and feels Aurora Northern Lights transform
her mortal body into divine wraith.

One sun-sourced tear, infused with ancient light,
sparked by first flash at beginning of time,
slides down her cheek with sparkle of insight,
reflecting countless spirits of pure chime,
that gleams with journey thirteen billion years
as egg preserving dreams of endless years.

One drop of water gleaming in her brain
preserves the dreams of progress fueled by hope
from every organic creature of flesh
through whom it flows as binding thread of light
as we evolve four hundred million years
to weave our bodies in serpentine web.

Our bodies merge with bodies of our lovers
when parents generate children through love,
embraced with passion by the river shore,
so we transform through endless soul rebirth,
programmed by immortal soul of our genes
to search for fruit tree of the holy land.

Heart pulsing with assertion of desire,
expressed by globe of atoms flashing bright
as we spin slowly in void of strange stars,
Sofia turns from painting of her world
to see me standing in scope of her faith
so light of joy bursts from her clouded eyes.

Approaching me across vast plain of fear,
with slow attention of cautious desire,
Sofia smiles and reaches out her hand,
palm open to receive gift of my heart,
so I accept brave spirit of her trust
to shelter in warm haven of my love.

Hands clasped with calm companionship of trust,
we stroll together winding road of life
across bare waste land of eager respect
to build Garden of Eden from our love
that flourishes in lush Elysium
where children of our love sprout into souls.

Expanding conscious scope of our two minds,
we circumscribe all possible outcomes
by narrowing path of productive fate
we choose to create from star energy
so water of our souls nourish the world
that preserve our dreams in tears you will shed.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus and Ophelia hold hands as they walk the road of life with their children, Orion and Ostara, amazed at beauty of the Northern Lights.

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

Bridge Of Social Happiness
© Surazeus
2026 01 23

My heart escapes cage of my fleshly frame
to soar above vast maze of ancient myths
about brave warriors and honest kings
so I can play wood lyre of Mercury
and praise their noble deeds in epic tales
when I cross Bridge of Social Happiness.

To highlight quest for truth as role to play
through tales of people who achieve great things,
I travel far across waste land of hope
in journey on the signless road of faith,
yet stumble into innocent success
when I cross Bridge of Social Happiness.

Each mask I wear from ancient gallery
of tragic characters inscribed in myth
exposes me to new experiences
that broaden scope of mental consciousness
so I become aware of human fate
when I cross Bridge of Social Happiness.

Consigned to live one tale of bumbling ploy
by quick temporal state of chemical being,
I blindly follow instinct of my heart
to do whatever seems the best each hour
I grope through global maze of frantic hope
when I cross Bridge of Social Happiness.

Now paused in old age on far side of fate
beneath the shining moon in misty woods
where old Narcissus stares back up at me,
I narrate random events of my life
through structured frame of the holy grail quest
when I cross Bridge of Social Happiness.

Each choice I made from gut instinct of faith
at crucial moments at crossroads of change
led me to secret haven of my heart
where I dwell with precious children and wife
on stage of fate I design with my will
when I cross Bridge of Social Happiness.

Still safe from price-demanding curse of fame
as prophet commissioned by World Ungod
with Code of Cassandra to program change,
I compose riddle satires that expose
how Midas will destroy America
when I cross Bridge of Social Happiness.

Awake from swirl of historical change
when cruel Satan appears again on Earth
to destroy social system based on greed,
I join justice squad that Minerva leads
to build world nation of Zarathia
when I cross Bridge of Social Happiness.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/01/…

Orpheus preserves secret Code of Cassandra in tattered leather book of spells so no one sees how he manipulates powerful people as puppets of his will.

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