First Designed By Amen
© Surazeus
2025 04 15

Mild reluctance of the arrogant snow
to prove whether some god exists or not,
inspires me to play confessional chess
with every devil who dares interfere
with my plot to realign the star frame
geared to favor my fortunate success.

How wild my heart accelerates back-flight
when blind god who may or may not exist
requires me to play congressional chess
despite lack of experience with death
that will erase this vision of the world
glowing with immortal light in my head.

Since no one ever attends my Dream Show,
I decide it is best that I persist
with programming my humanized robot
with consciousness based on star-flashing breath
because I always lose each game of chess
I dare to play against the universe.

Safe for now in haven of false desires,
enclosed by walls of secure dollar bills,
I rage against the global dream machine
that brainwashes our minds to perceive how
god embodies itself in the milk cow
who grazes on grass in the vale of mist.

Sparked by sudden feeling of bold despair,
which haunts storybooks in library halls,
I conduct studies of how rivers flow
with winding suspicion of gravity
that guides our progress to the cosmic sea
where all molecules merge in mind of god.

Though I grope half-blind in valley of fog,
holding up lamp of liberty to plan
random pathway I map to Wonderland,
people may follow me centuries later
to find paradise glows inside our hearts,
yet still we search for fruitful Tree of Fate.

Honest confusion for the role I play
in global game of chess to attain power,
that we call civilization, conjugates
expansive formulas which define nature
common to every human on this Earth
which spins forever in the void of faith.

Awake before dawn in the twilight zone,
I unfold angel wings from the bone
supporting infrastructure of state banks
that fund educational institutes
so brain of every child may be programmed
with one world view first designed by Amen.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus explores the valley of bones shrouded in morning fog to find the deserted library of clay tablets filled with financial reports.

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

Highways For Fast Cars
© Surazeus
2025 04 14

Bestselling author of the naked soul
writes kind graffiti on the bathroom wall
encouraging all the people of Earth
to endure war with affectionate mirth
while children of fallen heroes lament
collapsing pillars of the government.

We march with Caesar in the wilderness
to erect bridge of social happiness
that leads us over the rainbow of faith
to beautiful land of enchanting myth
where children are not killed by angry bombs
by serpents writhing on apple-tree limbs.

Infamous painter of splotches that form
animals in barns on the country farm
regales the tyrant on the throne of gold
who attempts to break the orthodox mold
with violent retribution for his loss
by screaming in rage that he is the boss.

He sails huge ship across the ocean blue
in vain attempt to find the secret clue
that would unlock the gates of paradise
so he can wear the alligator face
by leading slaves to find the Promised Land
which they shall conquer with the red right hand.

The girl riding her bike around the lake
explains to her doll how to spot the fake
when the preacher with the robotic wife
sells pricey timeshares to the Afterlife
where cherry blossoms flutter white as snow
while we all attend the last picture show.

Standing alone at the end of the world,
after she gives birth to the cosmic herald,
she dreams awake in butterflies of fate
while she carries the lamp to navigate
rough terrain of time on the trail of tears
paved over now with highways for fast cars.

With application of the higher law
we measure progress of civilized play
when arc of justice in the universe
seems to strike down the American Nurse
who plays guitar and sings heart-wrenching spell
to conjure Melusine from the Dream Well.

Eagle of America on the flag pole
swoops down to steal our roadmap for the soul,
so we march to expand the glory of Rome
two thousand years inside the Thunderdome
where Jesus and Apollo fight to claim
eternal power of the empire game.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus referees the fight between Jesus and Apollo over who will reign as God of the global empire of Anglonesia.

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Holy Light Of Fear
© Surazeus
2025 04 14

Walking across the water on star feet
to dominion of the blood-stained sepulcher,
I bring scripture of state catastrophe
as potent spell of resurrected gods
to lead procession of the dead from Hell
so demons rampage in nations of Earth.

Divinity comes not from silent shadows,
but hides in pungent fruit of psychic trees
which burns our hearts with holy light of fear
that cherished thoughts of Heaven we cling to
deceive our eyes with putrid fantasies
to lure us into destined graves of faith.

Subdued elation when the towers fall
in flames of national glory we admire,
traps our hungry bodies in routines
of helpless ambition to obtain wealth
more than we need to survive each day
in restless struggle to transcend our rage.

Though we pray fervently with honest faith,
no Jove appears in thunderous clouds of truth,
yet cruel men, mad with lust to rule our lives,
trick our hearts into giving them our trust
as they declare themselves our savior-kings
who hide their greed behind the smarmy smile.

Indifferent beauty of the silver sky
glares down at us with hostile friendliness
as we project at invisible gods
supernatural powers we wish we possess,
then fight each other in grand holy wars
over whose concept of God reigns supreme.

Through fertile glory of enduring love
we work together with unspoken faith
in principle of liberty for all
who live within one universal law
to maintain world food-production machine
while haunted by chimera of the grave.

Melodious hymn of shocking prophecy
reveals grand project of our loyal tribe
which focuses attention of our hearts
on consummation of religious faith,
though we endure the visionary joke
which traps us in the maze of paradise.

Reborn from chaos of the singing sun
with spontaneous joy of fearful urgency,
we rise from darkness on extended wings
with righteous undulations of weird courage
to manage turbulence of global change
with fierce devotion to democracy.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus brings new covenant of global prophecy for Jove to sign in commitment to protect mankind, but he sneers and throws in the fire of arrogance.

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Wise Athena Polias
© Surazeus
2025 04 14

That ancient image carved from olive wood
depicting wise Athena Polias,
which stood in the sacred Erechtheum
one hundred years of social revolution,
inspired Socrates and Plato to quest
for truth of life through the language we speak.

Though statue of Athena Polias
vanished long ago from dream of the world,
her spirit lives as flame inside my heart
with two and a half millennia of wisdom
encoded in philosophy of truth
to program how I perceive spinning Earth.

Ingenious lovely things have all returned
through miracle of science we design
to shine as beacon on the rocky shore
so ships of seekers map the Promised Land
where they may build with courage of the lost
new home of the brave in land of the free.

Our honor builds new mighty monument
with noble triumph on that shining hill
where freedom-loving men once reigned as guides
to serve good People of the Evening Land,
till from foul swamp of greed the tyrant crawls
to slouch with toxic hate in the White House.

No longer protected with paper walls
of howling books from spiral of the moon,
we wander circles in daily routines
with indifferent passion to survive war
fought in cyberspace of the psychic law
between nationalists and globalists.

Soon from deep abyss of the swirling sea
will rise the Hidden Dragon of world power
to challenge supremacy of the Eagle
which shall wake from its century-long slumber
Jovian Lion from mists of Avalon
who joins the Bear in world war for the Earth.

I feel deep in dark cavern of my heart
bright spirit of Athena stir from sleep
to rouse my soul from tomb of unknown gods
and stand in hall of the Acropolis
where she holds Torch of Liberty that shines
clear through choking darkness of tyranny.

That timeless image molded from our hearts
depicting wise Athena Polias,
shall stand in the sacred Erechtheum
one hundred thousand years of divine truth
to inspire people of the Earth to quest
for truth of life through the language we speak.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus presents new statue of Athena Polias to stand in the Erechtheum on the Acropolis as the heart of Liberty that shines as beacon for the people of Anglonesia.

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Valence Of Mute Love
© Surazeus
2025 04 13

Weird otherness of the thing in itself,
symbolized by snow flakes of unique style,
inspires me to shift sharp focus of hope
on traumatic terrain of psychic games
based on unconscious substance of desire
that shimmers with sepia glamor of faith.

Because language is the house of my being,
which shelters fragile spirit of my heart,
I steal bright flame from the lightning-struck tree
with brazier I swiped from Temple of Zeus
to activate bonfire of vanities
when we set fire to mansions of the greedy.

If we dare disrupt language of state power
with penetrating insight into fear,
which catalyzes hearts of frightened souls,
we might find subtle secret of the stars
laid open with empty newness of being
that records our lamentations of death.

Erotic allure of thought alchemy,
through which we transform visions of our brains
to carefully worded religious doctrine,
by which we brainwash children of the damned
to share earth-fostered wealth of hungry hands,
enchants my heart with secret of success.

Voluptuous tone of brooding nonchalance
beguiles my heart with texture of true love
which still provokes analysis of fate
with granular code of compulsive lust,
aggressive with passion of pretty faith
contrived by hypnotic spells of revision.

Awake with shock of alligator truth,
we sit on rugged hill of fake salvation
to contemplate the blooming rose of winter
which heals word-festered wounds of honest hope
beneath the undercutting gaze of fate
who unfurls spirit of faith from our bones.

Obscured by contents of exploding books
that flap raven wings in ecstatic joy,
we kiss each other till we resurrect,
holy insight preserving amplitude
that remains with perennial cynicism
to witness shocking beauty of this world.

No cure for loneliness of aching hearts
unveils absence of essential respect
which haunts our hearts with valence of mute love
that bonds our bodies with mutual desire
through measurement of darkness that remains
vast as bright galaxies between our eyes.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus experiments with alchemical formulas to find the secret of transforming the body into pure spirit, but realizes everybody will die.

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With You Beside Me
© Surazeus
2025 04 13

With you beside me on the road of life,
companions sharing meals on river shores,
we will not wander lost in Nowhere Land
because we know the secret names we share
as we help each other no matter what
happens to us in the bleak wilderness.

With you beside me in Garden of Eden,
soul mates bound with affectionate respect,
we know we will be safe in hills of demons
because together in both sun and rain
we experience harsh despair and sweet joy
while searching for the Way to Wonderland.

With you beside me at the Tree of Life,
clever thieves swiping sweet apples of knowledge
from the Serpent King on skull pyramid,
we will escape prison of paradise
enclosed by stone walls of paranoid fear
on our vain quest to find the Promised Land.

With you beside me on the windy prairie,
sly explorers where the buffalo roam,
we will express heart-encouraging words
though dark thunderclouds darken our clear skies
when the Storm God attacks our fragile souls
as we shelter in deep Cave of Illusions.

With you beside me as we roam and ramble,
fellow owners of the land of our birth,
we follow footsteps of our dead ancestors
to sing, "This land was made for you and me,"
till strangers invade with weapons of death
who drive us to wander in the waste land.

With you beside me on the ribbon highway,
lonely travelers in the golden valley,
we map the world under the endless skyway
to break signs that say Private Property,
and stroll in fields where immigrants pick crops,
then feast together on Thanksgiving Day.

With you beside me in land of the brave,
courageous patriots in band of brothers,
we fight together against tyranny
to support elective democracy
where everyone lives with justice for all
under the Star-Spangled Banner of Freedom.

With you beside me in land of the free,
freedom-fighters across the fruited plain,
we all confirm our souls in self-control
through exercise of liberty in law,
to build from ruins of America
new United States of Zarathia.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus wanders across the land from sea to shining sea and plays folk songs on guitar for farm workers who gather at night around bonfires of liberty.

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

Neatness Of My Progress
© Surazeus
2025 04 13

Through neatness of my progress to transcend
physical limits this body entails,
I stretch ardent wings of my conscious hope
broad as the sky that protects all living beings
so I can develop my empathy
by imagining your experience.

With neatness of my progress beyond time,
oscillating between opposite poles
of cynical contempt for ideal vision
and trustful regard for reality,
I realign puzzling pieces of truth
in mirror of art that reflects my faith.

From neatness of my progress out of Hell,
which conflates my caution of Wonderland
with willing acceptance of Avalon,
I twist spiral pathway regressively
to catch in net of programmatic code
aggressive passion for unrestrained dance.

For neatness of my progress around Earth
on fluctuating wings through excess faith,
I focus fierce attention my heart needs
on measured phases of evolving growth,
consistent with objectives I append,
to adjust levels of my mental state.

On neatness of my progress to rebuild
quick undulating structures time expands,
I base long-shadowed risk of drifting thoughts
as strict carrier entrusted with fate
that everyone gambles will soon succeed
despite appearance of fragile respect.

Before neatness of my progress attends
unnecessary thoughts fraught with desire,
I ponder why defeat accelerates
transformation of the oneiric mind
to hymn-chanting angel from howling ape
who shushes children with the hiss of snakes.

After neatness of my progress portends
sudden assumption of calm arrogance,
I swerve suddenly sorrowful in silence
to evade arrest by minions of Death
who stalk my journey to the Promised Land
regardless of my weird right to exist.

Over neatness of my progress to live
larger than my ancestors in my brain,
I charge with foolhardy courage of faith
to fight against the tyrant of blind greed
so I can see beauty people possess
with generous respect for differences.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus logs neatness of his progress that records his journey of self-discovery while on retreat in sacred desert of New Mexico.

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

Game That Never Ends
© Surazeus
2025 04 12

Now she feels the house shake with revelation
that soon the gods of clouds will become human
then reorganize nations of the world
through cooperative puzzle of desire
to build cities in the deserts of fear
with new capital of the world on Greenland.

If Belphegor demands with haughty voice
that she make him sandwiches after work,
Lilith laughs at his face with kind derision
that transforms him into statue of gold
forever slouched on the soft couch of sloth
to watch with joy the game that never ends.

Breathing deep ethereal wisdom of trees,
Lilith floats past windows where people live
twenty thousand leagues under sea of faith
to judge their behavior of stealing dreams
with calm indifference of the global nurse
who tends to the sick and wounded in war.

Refusing to obey with slavish voice
the devil who demands she work for him,
Lilith transforms into the bat-winged frog
who wears fake crown of ambiguities
with energetic passion to succeed
escaping dependency on regret.

Book of Suspicious Ghosts, her mother wrote
before she transformed into the wise turtle,
disperses pages into flower petals
that swirl around people as memories
they lose when they get drunk and curse the gods
who lounge with indifference on soft couches.

The moral impasse she investigates
diverts attention of the humble fool
to miss the secret code of soul rebirth
written with blood on mirrors of Versailles
which reflect every version of her soul
whom she becomes as she makes different choices.

She holds his gaze for twenty thousand years
till Belphegor releases her from prison
and crowns Lilith as new Queen of the Damned
so she has god power to resurrect
souls of artists from projects they create
who never say anything meaningful.

Locked in the cemetery with her lover,
Lilith takes Belphegor to the dark forest
where she explains how bodies generate
new life from seeds and eggs of arrogance
who speak with new voices of ancient gods
transforming hatred to enchanting hymns.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus finds Book of Suspicious Ghosts in the Library of the Damned to investigate the tragic love story of Lilith and Belphegor.

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

Nothing Of My Faith
© Surazeus
2025 04 12

When Snow White flees into dark woods of gloom
to escape killers her step-mother sends,
then falls weeping in wilderness of fear
after losing her family and home,
she finds in her heart nothing of her faith,
then smiles and sets out to find her new home.

When Ophelia weeps with bitter rage
while gathering flowers on the river shore,
because the man she trusts to guard her heart
humiliates her with mocking insults,
she dives in death with nothing of her faith
and floats singing down the river of dreams.

When Eve bites apple of wisdom with trust
that she will learn about nature of life
how people are good and evil at once,
she kills the devil who enslaves her soul
with weapon made from nothing of her faith
to manage her garden of apple trees.

When Clementine crawls from river of tears
and climbs rugged hills to cave of illusions,
to find jewels gleaming with light of truth
preserved since first flash at the dawn of time,
she hides heart-wealth in nothing of her faith
which powers her rocket ship to the stars.

When Alice steals the map to Wonderland
that Grendel keeps stored in his writing desk,
then runs through gate to Hell with sign that warns,
"Abandon all hope, you who enter here,"
she eats mushrooms from nothing of her faith
and grows wings of Icarus to fly home.

When Minerva rides white horse of salvation
to arrest Midas for stealing our hope
and blowing up Temple of Truth with hate,
she guides our project to rebuild our state
with principles from nothing of our faith
based on image of her angelic wraith.

When Ishtar stands on Pyramid of Truth
to spread her arms with rising of the sun,
and sings Creation of the Universe
that flares forth from first flash of the big bang,
she writes wisdom in nothing of our faith
as holy scripture that defines our world.

When I wake in eternity of now
and dream strange beauty of our universe
that manifests changing chemical forms
from concepts in Heaven Realm of Ideas,
I write scripture from nothing of my faith
which codes creed of Astarianity.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus swims with Ophelia in river of dreams, and they splash each other with flirtatious desire, then kiss under the apple tree.

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

Signs Along The Road
© Surazeus
2025 04 12

Each name I paint on signs along the road
defines the person I meet at that point
along the random journey of my life
so I remember them with fond respect
when their ghost haunts me in the moonless night
though I leave them all behind on the way.

When I get to the end of my life road
I look backward on the way I blazed here
and see the neatness of my progress home
to where I sit and rest my weary heart,
though I had no plan when I started out
and just go where I feel like each new day.

There is no wisdom in these casual thoughts
that trickle from my eyes as salty tears
to sour the apple I eat while I cry
because their faces haunt me in the dusk
and I can hear their voices in the breeze
call me to come back to the place called home.

I stare into the past beyond the mist
that shrouds the way I walk to this weird hour
when I feel spinning of the ancient world
around the blazing sun that never moves
till I fall over and lie in the grass
and sink into the nothing of my faith.

Since I can never go back to the past
I wipe away my tears and smile with hope,
then continue forward on road of faith
toward the future I have not yet perceived
yet shimmers on horizon of my heart
with sweet allurement of the Promised Land.

Light rain that sweeps down from the mountain peak
splashes my face with erotics of faith
that spurs my aching heart with ardency
to weave sunlight in veil of constancy
which shields my heart from haunting tune of love
that rises reluctantly from my heart.

I cannot see the what-will-be of life
till I enter space where things are real now
that proves my choices fortunate my fate,
so I laugh with joy at absurdity
that shakes my body with mute ecstasy
with honest analysis I accept.

Though you haunt me on the road where I walk
alone beyond edge of eternity,
I paint your names on signs along the road
to show all travelers who follow me
the true way to take to find paradise
we find that shines in our hearts all along.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus photographs signs along the road that Ophelia painted on her journey to find the Promised Land that exists only in human hearts.

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Spells Of Psychic Dreams
© Surazeus
2025 04 11

Wind is the language of hope and despair
which is why I do not understand a word,
so I stand in the wind outside my house
and watch strangers drive their cars somewhere else
while I become the tree no one can see
when I sing the stories no one can hear.

Earth is the language of take and receive
which is why I give everything away
till I become the richest soul on Earth
because I have nothing since the world is mine,
and I possess everything that exists
since I am empty of anything real.

Light is the language of see and believe
which is why I name everything I see
to label ideal pattern of its form
in category of things I perceive
because I measure matter with my hands
to box everything in realm of ideas.

Water is the language of truth and dare
which is why I drink spirit of the sky
to expand my conscious sense of being
till I become divine with common sense
framed by the knowledge of evil and good
on which I base theology of fate.

I fool myself with rhetorical tricks
that Socrates taught in his dialogues
to analyze true nature of the world
through clarity of logic-ordered words
which defines ontology of the real
to create representations of truth.

The real world composed of bright molecules
that swirl in clumps of chemical concepts
seethes in vast universe of constant change
while I arrange words in lithe sentences
that describe detailed vision of the world
which I generalize with sequence of facts.

The special manifestation of tree
that grows on lush lawn in front of my house
reflects pattern of its eternal form
from the Idea of Tree that persists
in Heaven based on the Realm of Ideas
which can be found in all organic brains.

Our planet teeming with organic life
wakes from atomic trance of flashing light
as conscious sense of self I know I Am,
so I will name this temporary being
with label that defines my divine soul
which I encode in spells of psychic dreams.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus listens as Socrates and Plato discuss the psychological linguistics at the heart of philosophy on which we base the Realm of Ideas now called Heaven.

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In The Ardent Zone
© Surazeus
2025 04 11

Unnecessary logic of the heart
increases temperature of wordless hope
that renders moot the wonder of respect
which filters anguish from old memories
at rising level of the swirling flood
that leaves us stranded in the ardent zone.

Through civil disobedience of the heart
opposing tyranny of selfish greed,
we dance with laughter in the lightning storm
where ghosts are drifting in the naked hills,
pursuant to the clause in section nine
that maps our journey in the ardent zone.

Trapped by huge trade deficit of the heart,
we struggle to escape doleful mindset
with secret messages of innocence
to people in the future who recall
how we trashed the greatest empire of all
by wrestling terror in the ardent zone.

Downriver from the cave of divine dreams,
where wingless angels plot to rule the world
with policies that benefit the poor,
we build new paradise from apple seeds
to prove we are good enough to exist
as faceless humans in the ardent zone.

Regretting windless arrogance of faith,
the metal horse with fast computer brain
assigns me mission to unmap the world
so no one knows the righteous way to go
down rigid highway of the burning sign
that always guides us in the ardent zone.

Hearts swelling rich with isolated angst,
designed to evade false submissive fluke
with electric engine that measures time
between our hearts still rumbling out of whack
despite intense horsepower of true love,
we greet each other in the ardent zone.

Contrived performance in the theater,
Ishmael designs with money-making scheme,
deceives hard-working people to believe
the state interferes with benevolence
based on self-reliance of the strong man
gone mad for power in the ardent zone.

Though life will break our hearts with clemency,
we protect our bodies from contempt
by eating apples from the Tree of Truth
that we must steal from serpent of the heart
who curates our skulls on library shelves
that record our time in the ardent zone.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus conducts tours in the ardent zone for economic refugees who flee collapse of the American Empire.

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Wall Of Eternal Hope
© Surazeus
2025 04 10

With subtle arrogance of honest lust
I stumble drunk on Dionysian wine
down shadowy corridors of desire
past marble idols of cute goddesses
whose stony eyes pierce my heart with true love
when I fall off wall of eternal hope.

Reluctant anguish of conceptual faith
sparks my stone heart with electric regret
that spurs my pilgrimage of torpidity
to find Urania singing in the rain
while dancing on the rocky ocean shore
when I lounge on wall of eternal hope.

Through expectation of reliant jokes
I give my credentials to the tree ghost
who unlocks door to the house of detention
so all the demons escape caves of Hell
to eat hotdogs and drink beer at the bar
enclosed by glass wall of eternal hope.

Despite persuasion of the Holy Ghost,
who binds our aching hearts of wretched love
with barbed dogmatic wires of loyalty,
Grendel kicks down iron cathedral door
to drink the blood and eat the flesh of Christ
and smear mud on wall of eternal hope.

Trembling naked on wind-blasted sea shore,
Augustine shouts at the blind thunder god
with optimistic prayers of eager horror
to understand the noble sacrifice
made by the Fisher King to save the world
after breaking wall of eternal hope.

Confidence founded on complex chess games
lures refugees from brutal civil wars
to sail the seven seas in whaling boats
through project to colonize jungle lands
where everyone votes to end slavery
when Jesus builds wall of eternal hope.

Fragments of history shattered by bombs,
organized by states of divinity,
contain scenes where honest men conquer tyrants
and rule the people with generous trust
till revolution of the bourgeoisie
who redefine wall of eternal hope.

Twanging strings of his electric guitar
and screaming curses in the microphone,
Apollo performs in huge stadium
where eighty thousand devils rock and roll
till they transform into angels with wings
who fly beyond wall of eternal hope.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus joins Jesus and Apollo to eat hamburgers at the bar to watch the World Cup soccer tournament.

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

Pilgrim Of Eternity
© Surazeus
2025 04 10

While writing rhymed verse in the leather book,
in small wood cell under the tall oak tree,
where ravens discuss soul theology,
Otfridus whistles eerie spell that swirls
sudden gust of wind from shadow of truth
that scatters book pages across the field.

Small whirlwind of pages dances on shore
narrow creek winding through forest of oaks,
along sparkling riffle of smooth white stones,
then out across broad lake blue as topaz
to rock the boat that young Adonais sails
toward mossy cavern where Urania dwells.

Bearing bright lamp, fueled by sprites of hope,
Adonais climbs steep narrow winding trail
past skulls of gods and kings with thorny crowns,
but pauses halfway up stairway to Heaven
to wear gold mask smeared with blood of desire
that Phoebus dropped when he fought with Despair.

Now dressed as Pilgrim of Eternity,
whose fame was hurled in seething sea of Chaos,
Adonais proceeds to Cave of Illusions
where laughing skeletons of Liberty
dance wildly weird in fruitful ecstasy
against the tyrant slouched in Hall of Power.

Enduring gusts of winds that tear his face,
Adonais fights for Justice based on Truth
by pushing into dark polluted smog
toward paragon of Liberty, Urania,
whose face shines bright as beacon of respect
which fills his heart with courage of the hero.

Just as he stumbles almost to his knees
when fierce tornado batters him with rage,
Adonais feels firm hand of noble wisdom
grip his hand to help him maintain his balance
as Otfridus lends strength of honest faith,
and together they progress against hate.

While Otfridus protects him from attack,
Adonais twirls brass wand with emerald jewel
to battle against mad Midas, whose touch
of greed turns everything to rotten trash,
till strike of justice energized by love
inspires him to excel in fight for truth.

After he frees Urania from gold chains,
Adonais leads her safely with strong heart
to Hall of Power where she begins reign
enforcing Justice against greedy thieves
to secure equal rights for every soul
who dwell together in Zarathia.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus watches in awe as Adonais and Otfridus defeat Midas and free Urania so she can reign with justice for people of Zarathia.

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

Garden Of Dead Books
© Surazeus
2025 04 10

Too much combustion of the ardent kiss
leaves us stranded in garden of dead books,
poison of love stinging our eyes with trust
as we create ideal lover from hope
in masks we wear to keep us interested
in constant fever of the flowering moon.

Remote from malice of the naive tree,
our bodies are yoked to fountain of secrets
which traps us in gold cage of honesty
as our hearts transform each dagger-sharp word
to seeds that heal excessive wounds of faith
with each heart-rending howl of hungry hope.

We zigzag through reckless maze of our hearts
with untamed horse of hope that fools our eyes,
amazed by vapor of untruth that veils death,
invented by metallic tongues of fear
in time to catch the falling star of fate
which discombobulates our marriage vows.

Beneath the hazardous tree of despair,
where we find shelter from the evening storm,
we gather black feathers of ravens to weave
new pairs of wings for our hearts to attain
freedom from gravity of arrogant hate
while waterfalls erase our souls from time.

Shadow of horror transforms into swan
who soars into thundering clouds of rage
to strip our minds from garments of false faith
when sunset rays stipple lake of our hearts
with vibrant passion we cannot deny
since we keep on kissing reluctantly.

Fallen into flood of terrified tears,
we feel our bodies transform into stones
exploding with children of eager hope
who carry that concept in trembling hands
to retrieve our bodies from tangled roots
of trees that scream owls of eternity.

Huddled after rain on the river shore,
beneath the willow that will never die,
we tell each other we will be all right
because we hide our stories in the book
that sits unread for twenty thousand years
on hidden shelf in library of ghosts.

We cannot own the field that bears our names
except when we bury with trembling hands
bones of our ancestors in unfenced soil
so carrots and corn may grow from their brains
to provide nutrition for fragile bodies
supported by framework of unborn hope.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus and Ophelia rip tangled vines and wild plants from the field of bones to create a garden of organized crops in the wilderness of fake hope.

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

Flap Of Devil Wings
© Surazeus
2025 04 09

Startled awake by flap of devil wings,
my heart slithers with photosynthesis
upward in spirals of atomic rings
which conjugates fate through analysis
deconstructing grand world view of state power
for old disheveled king who eats the flower.

Beautiful lightning that reveals my face,
masked by bone-white glamor of cold moonlight,
cracks naked mirror of terrorized grace
projecting water gush from egg of night
that scents our bodies with elegant lust
concealed in contours of the marble bust.

Undeserved blessings from thin grasping hand
free my soul from worship of loyal thieves
who scatter counterfeit coins on dry land
where prim attendants comfort none who grieves
honest adversaries jailed for contempt
through intellectual games by hope exempt.

Pragmatic mess of my recursive life,
constraining eagerness of my failed quest,
requires application of civil strife
through execution of the virtue test
involving program of routine regret
that plans to reinvent the alphabet.

Procedure to expand my consciousness
contrives spectacular display of grace
through fraught assurance of unloneliness
designed to structured code of cyberspace
which nurtures hunger of the Holy Ghost
who hosts refugees stranded on the coast.

No curfew tolls the bell of buzzing night
to glimmer darkness tinkling in our hearts
though we listen for moping owl of right,
then wander far from bower of star charts,
longing for hearths that blaze no more with hope
while we huddle on the steep rain-drenched slope.

Since all paths of glory lead to the grave,
I prefer to dwell in quaint forest home
by signless road that empires never pave,
for whether young or old I long to roam
where my heart guides my seeming random way
with book that contains memories of our play.

No pealing anthem swells our souls with pride
while Death stalks thieves in halls of government
so we build new state where Truth may abide
with Liberty in stately monument
that rings with voice of our national choir
while I play mercurial tunes on my lyre.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus lounges in the country churchyard while he writes an elegy with dragon blood on demon-skin scrolls.

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Sparkle Our God Wraith
© Surazeus
2025 04 09

Though I walk one thousand miles in the desert
to repent needs of my animal body,
I rejoice in beauty of rain-drenched hills
that sprout trees providing fruit for my heart,
so I feast till I become cosmic mind
as disembodied spirit of mankind.

I dance across dark skies of timeless night,
becoming vastness of the star-bright void
in graceful journey that weaves countless worlds
in psychic constellations of our hearts
that form our souls from formlessness of faith
through chemicals that sparkle our God Wraith.

Unfrenzied by ecstatic love for life,
I open wide with elegant respect
iridescent wings from dragon-egg brain
with solemn approbation of concern
through vibrant aspiration to transcend
corporal body of love I comprehend.

Crowned with laurel wreath of accomplished pride,
I stride the sacred promenade of fate
to bear my epic of philosophers
for display in Museum of World Faith
which I compose with mythic precedent
as new book for Tellurian Testament.

Combustible thoughts jeweling my heart
fuel rocket engine of ambitious faith
since I spend forty years of discipline
constructing vehicle of psychic verse
to soar on wings of Tiwaz around Earth
while bearing Holy Grail of soul rebirth.

Evaporated tears blind angels shed
frame frantic ocean of forgetful faith
when I sail restless waves of honesty
by navigating tropes of social myths
to find first homeland of my childhood dream
mapped on face I see in the flowing stream.

Encasing memories of my secret life
in polished oak-wood box Pandora made,
I hide wyrd fragments of my broken heart
so howling spirits of surprised despair
may mend it with commercial enterprise
reprogrammed by loyal religious spies.

Attempts to see clear features of my face
will fail suspicious inquiry you spell
for I am every soul who ever lives
on every planet of our multiverse
till you realize how this persona role
molds special mask that expresses your soul.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus gives mask of his face to Ophelia who molds their son Odin from river mud and breathes life of her soul into his body.

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Temple For Every Soul
© Surazeus
2025 04 09

Since every one fights to control the sky
I want to rise on wings of Icarus
and dwell on swirling clouds of ecstasy
with haughty confidence of conscious faith
to strum the lyre of Mercury and sing
hymns that praise the noble deeds of good souls.

Driving my stylish compact vehicle,
powered by engine Barsanti designed,
I glide down winding roads on rolling hills
in maze of buildings, steered by traffic signs,
accomplishing daily routine of tasks
to maintain status of my conscious dream.

Gathered with my two children and my wife
at booth in restaurant by the city park,
we talk about the nature of the world,
and how our plans for life fit in time frame
sustained by our global society
that nurtures creative Song of the Self.

What fantasy Utopia we live in,
to maintain aggressive production flow,
recent generations of humans built
based on bitter experience of world wars
to control wild chaos of energy
that balances opposing wills to power.

Global system of sovereign governments,
aligned by United Nations of Earth
in loose federation of nation-states,
composed of fragile alliances
of socialist and capitalist networks,
jostles in fractured puzzle of control.

Assertive programs of authority,
that range from liberal democracies
to fascist monarchies of tyranny,
contend for dominance of their world view
personified by their concept of God
as greedy Satan versus nurturing Jesus.

When Pluto sends Midas to overthrow
free institutions of America
so he can crown himself Earth Emperor,
Jupiter sends Lucifer to arrest
his volatile rampage wrecking our state
so Minerva can build Zarathia.

When Jupiter confines Pluto in Hell,
binding capitalist lust with socialist laws,
Minerva builds temple for every soul
based on Liberty and Justice for all
to construct from ruins of America
new global empire of Zarathia.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus assists Minerva in building new global system of cooperative governments she names Zarathia.

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

Meadow Of Rejuvenation
© Surazeus
2025 04 08

Head aching from frantic activity
racing all day in the vast city maze
to chase elusive butterfly of wealth,
I stumble outside gates of paradise
to seek calm solace in Neorxnawang,
heavenly meadow of rejuvenation.

After revving loud engine of my car
to drive with tense aggression of desire
in rumbling herd of metal-shelled machines,
I glide with elegant grace of sweet bliss
among broad-canopied trees full of fruit
with leaves that whisper in the river breeze.

From walking quickly on cement sidewalks,
talking in meetings, and composing code
on computers to meet looming deadlines,
I go lie down on grassy sloping shore
to relax among sweet delicate flowers
and eat juicy fruit in Neorxnawang.

Ears buzzing from roar of factory machines,
clanks of forklifts, bangs of tall metal doors,
and shouts of bosses declaring commands,
I listen to soft thrum of taut brass strings
as angels strum melodies on spruce harps
and sing enchanting tunes of peaceful dreams.

Throat stinging from billows of car exhaust
as I drive crowded smog-veiled city streets
and cough from factory-polluted air,
I breathe fresh wind tinged with salty sea waves
that fill my exhausted body with scent
of divine beauty in Neorxnawang.

From narrow canyons of steel and glass towers
crowded with people in small cubicles
who enter data in spreadsheet reports,
I travel Glaesisvellir, Glittering Plains
in bright Undying Lands of Odainsaker,
to dwell with my family in our safe home.

Driving vast urban landscape of tall buildings
where millions wear masks of fake superheroes
in fierce competition to gain more wealth,
I search outside high gold walls of Heaven
on roads that wind around Elysian Fields
to my fruit garden in Neorxnawang.

Exhausted from working in maze of hope,
forever running fast against the clock
to gain power and wealth in game of death,
I journey outside gates of paradise
to seek salvation in Neorxnawang,
heavenly meadow of rejuvenation.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus and Ophelia meet Odin and Idunna in apple grove by the river in paradise of Neorxnawang to rejuvenate their souls.

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Garden Of Secret Love
© Surazeus
2025 04 08

Though you are not always right by my side
you are always near me within my heart
faithful as the moon I cannot always see,
for you come and go, weaving through my days,
in phases of nearness that wax and wane,
tugging with love at the sea of my heart.

Though you are sometimes near invisible,
you are everywhere I go in this world,
dependable as the mountain of truth
that supports my journey to be myself,
secure as the air that inspires my heart
with empathy for every living soul.

I cannot always clearly see your face
and I wait anxiously, thinking of you,
but I feel warmth of your attentive love
bright as the sun that shimmers in the sky,
so I imagine you are watching me
with careful concern of the Guardian.

Light gleaming in leaves on lattice of limbs,
and tracing timeless visions of far lands
through quiet curtains on clean painted wall,
luminates faceless shadow of your soul
to assert confirmation of our bonds
so I dance with your absence as the ghost.

I sail boat of my heart with cautious hope
on lake of free-floating anxiety
to fish for secret monsters of the heart
so I can roast despair on flames of faith,
then feed the people of my family
who watch me cook with eyes of hungry hope.

The greenfinch on the branch of loyal trust
explains to me where you are at these days,
describing how you wrestle with despair
and walk with courage on the jagged air
to bring redemption in your open hands
so we can understand chaos of fate.

Ache of nostalgia for the wordless past,
that conjures from ancestral memories
emotional vibe of energetic love,
frames this bleak timeless hour of loneliness
with vibrant beauty of your absent soul
as my brain beams your ghost to haunt my heart.

Overwhelmed by pleasure that you exist
more than your ghost my brain designs with love,
I cherish every memory of our times
together walking hand in hand with hope
since we escaped mad paradise we lost
to build our own garden of secret love.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus returns with basket of fish he roasts while Ophelia sings heart-aching song about how much she misses him when he is gone fishing.

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Faceless Pool Of Love
© Surazeus
2025 04 08

If truth removes the longing from my clay
I might feel shimmering wings arched overhead,
and know this is the last season of life
while waiting for the signal from the world
to leave my anger crawling in the dust
when I return from stark unfinished lands.

No guardian angel at the gate of faith
remains to watch me leave lost paradise,
though I take seeds from sweet apples I stole
to start new garden on the river shore
where I will invent concept of the door
that divides pleasure from horror of death.

While standing still on gateless shore of time,
I realize with surprise of obviousness
that water always flows beyond the scope
my eyes record with breath of glowing clouds
till hope transforms into body of flesh
which I employ to explore this strange world.

She whispers softly in my sudden ear
of shadows that flee back up to the sky
with sharp instinct of animal desire
which animates our passionate embrace
to generate new bodies from our hearts
who bear our souls beyond eternity.

More terror-stricken than blossoming trees,
she teaches me the light of absolutes
which shimmer deep in liquid of her eyes
to reveal sacred wisdom of godless skies
though we sense someone always watching us
whose weird voice howls at us in windy rain.

My longing stabs my heart with thorny faith,
so I speak the first word my heart invents
to tell her, "You" are the one I love most,
though all my words blow away in bleak wind
that pushes us helplessly toward blank fate,
so we hold hands to bind our souls with love.

Weaving vines among trees in circled fence,
we enclose our hearts in safe garden space
to hide from monsters lurking in dark woods,
because her face glows bright with eyes of light
when she gives me berries and nuts to eat
as we lounge by the faceless pool of love.

The tree that blooms from heart of anguished hope
declares itself with endless voice of wind
to be the sacred oracle of love
whose fruit reveals the meaning of desire
as children spring from passion of our kiss
to populate this world with warring tribes.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus and Ophelia clear away underbrush to organize plants in the hidden garden of their hearts where the singing river flows.

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

Mask Of Secret Agony
© Surazeus
2025 04 07

The woman in the scarlet gown of faith,
who might wear mask of secret agony,
holds flame of contemplation in her hand
till moon-white dove emerges from her heart
in sudden misdirection to conceal
intense desire to ransom truth from hate.

The oldest woman in the world reveals
electric heart that operates the globe
with flashing gears of subatomic words
from urgent message that we throw ourselves
in sea of stars to cleanse our rotten souls
with jubilation surpassing regret.

Each falling star that shatters spaceless time
guides us to plumb bright depths of our abyss
with weightless lamentation of new clouds,
though we are weighed down by exhausting fear
to sacrifice reluctant praise for death
with intimate pretext of secret love.

Outbreak of song from vibrant lungs of hope
reflects unusual action that heals pain
before indigenous touch resurrects
diminished stature of our shared respect
with tender aspect of unnoticed praise
since angels mark our doors with tears of ghosts.

Grim demeanor unexpressed before dawn
allows too much collapsing states of trust
abundant with excessive graves where love
bleeds unchangeable wealth for sleepless hours
before excluded moments satisfy
pretension to knowledge unearned by prayers.

Alone on sleepless landscape, circled tight
by savage gods still thirsty for our hope,
we give each other fruit we steal from death,
and playact why we have angelic wings
strong enough to carry our heavy hearts
along the winding river bright with tricks.

Fabulous with tales of the avalanche
that realigns our world view fate designed,
we languish in conventions of sad trees
to share idle gossip about dead gods,
foolish enough to believe we might find
diamond of unbelievable respect.

Latent honesty of unchanging jokes,
confounded by cerebral hemispheres
that distract graceful dancers in glass rain,
inspires determined purpose to transcend
internal quietude of wordless books
that fly away on raven wings of faith.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus asks Eurydice if she will marry him, and she gives him the apple she stole from Adam as a token of her acceptance.

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

Headless Idol Of God
© Surazeus
2025 04 07

Oblique intellect of the rose-gold moon
reveals the vast distance between our hearts
which writhe with revelations of true love
to frame this beautiful weird world of ours
with shocking sensation of blooming flowers
rooted in tales of our lost memories.

When colors leer in sunlight of my room,
transformed by my fatal imaginings
to furtive creatures lurking in dry books,
I hide conceptual sprites in wood word box
till they sprout gossamer butterfly wings
and fly through spiral of eyes from my mouth.

Effectual consequence of fertile thought
completes excessive meaning long untouched
by proper rhetorician strolling home
in neatly trimmed rose-garden maze of ghosts
to unwind logical clock stuck in trunk
of my most graceful willow by the lake.

Desiring trivial power to control
dreams that motivate hunger of our hope,
we build huge marble monuments to truth
so bold performers, terror-struck by love,
may better calculate which way to go
through strict analysis of empty words.

Collecting words from caverns of your minds,
fragile as eggs from which serpents of faith
slither forth through church-cluttered avenues,
I breathe oxygen from bright mountain caves
when clouds of words congeal in holy books
open on tables of unexplained fear.

Passion that frames emptiness of the home
with shapeless shadow of dire honesty
adjusts backward direction time expands
for angels still forgotten on the moon
to play chess game of arrogant respect
though we consider this haven our right.

Immense success of meaningless play
contains stark signs of intelligible life
trapped in symbols everyone wants to buy
to hang as paintings on cathedral walls
based on hallucination I design
which imitates headless idol of God.

No more original than falling snow,
that purports to final contrariness
of false perfection dazzling in its truth,
my heart begins with vivid elements
of natural light to weave reluctant code
which programs how I invent unique fate.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus digs up headless idol of God from under the parking lot of the old abandoned car factory that pollutes the river.

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Always Fight For Freedom
© Surazeus
2025 04 07

Touched by unimaginable touch of time
that monitors mutation of my soul,
I climb corruptive scale of anxious care
to meddle with avarice of my mind
expressing hidden passions of my heart
through outward forms that no one understands.

Woke in sublime tower of everyday,
I program tranquil anguish of my heart
to adore beauteous evening we all share
where no mighty Being outside human brains
broods over oceans and mountains of truth
except my own solemn thought about light.

Though no immortal Being exists to know
immense structure of our cosmic white whole,
this world of changes is no less divine
than concept of perfection our minds share
because we program how we view the world
with linguistic system of ideal forms.

Thus humble at inner shrine of my heart,
symbolized by pillared temple of faith,
I worship mindless spirit of the Earth
that gleams with beauty of is changing forms
composed of flawed objects my words describe
in visions which expand my consciousness.

The periwinkle trailing wreaths of hope
inspires my soul with breath of honest love
to sing in harmony with silent notes
that trees of many kinds in shady groves
sing into thousand blended notes of truth
to enchant my heart with knowledge of death.

Creatures motivated by simple needs
express thrill of pleasure in being alive
through quick aggressive motions of their souls
which fuel graceful dance their lithe bodies feel
since all organic spirits of this globe
exist as vibrant flash of chemicals.

Sharp gushing song of rivers in dim woods
explains patient hope of my sovereign cry
to note with evidence of subtle proof
right to exist that every creature feels,
asserting justice against cruel assault
in heart-pounding fight to evade contempt.

Bitter-sweet it is with uplifted eyes
to survey course of human history
as constant travelers on long road of life
to know with lamentation of respect
that men oppress men with thought-control games
so we always fight for freedom to love.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus plays lyre of Mercury while William Wordsworth sings with tremulous voice in the shadowed woods of human history.

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Golden Age Of Greed
© Surazeus
2025 04 06

If alphabets eat our worm-writhing dreams,
the faster way to find rebirth from silence
might be to drive all night on desert roads
while scattering apple seeds along the highway
since wind knocks down every legible sign
to lament faces of gods on the vine.

Overwhelmed by thoughts no one dares to speak,
I breathe excessive laughter of the moon
in pursuit of profits bleeding from trees
propelled by infinite hope for true love
as humble contortion of endless tales
disguised by optical freedom of whales.

Catalyst of life with battery brain
observing skeptical truths redesigned
by carefully controlled sadism of faith,
I wonder why my weird concept of life
reflects reality no one else sees
except for me with television eyes.

Illusion of trampled dreams by the lake
reveals exponential profit from hope
extracted by screaming media that cheats
with selfish luxury of swirling snow
through insurance purchased from the blind king
who tries to sell me his last broken wing.

My mother tells me just before she dies
that every spirit still remains alive
until their name is uttered by the dead,
but all I hear outside the fractured window
is demons howling in the hungry rain
so I keep doing the things that are vain.

Returning from dark boundary of despair,
I bring the golden fleece of nothingness
as prize I stole from the sad mountain seer
who throws our holy books in desert dust
to prove wisdom topples idols of gods
who scorn our worship from their seedless pods.

Anger wild as ocean waves smashing stones
insults the honest executioner
sent to restore the golden age of greed
betrayed at dawn by alligator clowns
who scream at their faces in mirror time
that we are angels who evolve from slime.

Words I paint with blood on the stone church wall
reflect pure splendor of the godless sky
with consolation of the bleeding star
while I repeat incantations of faith
that Gilgamesh carves in clay of my heart
so I can navigate life with my chart.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus builds ten thousand car factories in the desert of alphabet dragons who eat televisions of religious faith.

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

Wind Of Endless Sorrow
© Surazeus
2025 04 06

Flapping his arms as if they are crow wings,
he follows her into the bitter sunset
to find the tattered remnant of his soul
snagged on the bare branch of the apple tree
that grows twisted sideways from the steep cliff
and flutters in the wind of endless sorrow.

Alone in darkness of the everywhere,
he drinks sweet sadness of the flowing stream
that chills his heart with memory of her eyes
deeper blue than ice on the faceless pond
where tattered remnant of his soul floats pale
as eyeless fish of eternal desire.

Kneeling carefully in terrible pain
beside the pond with mask of fractured ice,
he reaches out to touch shimmer of light
that pierces his uneasy heart of hope
with wordless horror he cannot accept,
but stares forever at her tangled hair.

Too late to know the laughter children steal,
he watches young girl twirling in sunlight
with charming laughter of spring rain on flowers
whose eyes create the world of truth he loves,
whose words design the tree of faith he loves,
but wakes alone at dawn beside her corpse.

Returning to walled fort on the hill top,
he strides forcefully through the busy crowd
to grab fur cloak of the tall laughing boy
and shouts, "I saw you shove her off the cliff
when she offered you sweet fruit of her heart,"
then punches his face with snarl of disgust.

Grim father of the tall laughing boy growls,
drags him out to the twisted apple tree
where tattered dress of the girl flaps in wind,
then binds his arms and legs with leather straps,
and hangs him upside down over the cliff
where he sways back and forth in chilly wind.

Hanging from twisted apple tree of love
over abyss where the girl he loves lies
broken by the frozen pond of his heart,
he sings mercurial melody of sorrow
in eerie wail beneath the weeping moon
till he becomes the crow who understands.

After hanging high for nine days and nights
from the twisted apple tree of his heart,
he finds himself unbound on rain-wet grass,
so he stands and hobbles past judging eyes,
and walks ten thousand years on signless roads
to find her spirit dancing by the pond.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus buries Eurydice beside the frozen pond and lays crow feathers on the stone to mark her grave.

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

Merely To Know
© Surazeus
2025 04 06

Because false and true are merely to know
the swooping elegance of wordless flight,
then we could carelessly find the sea glow
extracting wisdom from demonic light
concealed in book of psychic mystery
that pretends to record world history.

Cracked open stone of falling river flash
reveals inviolate truth the Sibyl bears
with tartless mind of phenomenal cash
half-glimpsed by children on unwinding stairs
who measure lightyears beyond death of time
to kiss with pulsing heartbeat of each chime.

Stray thoughts of vastly undeluded hope
contrive how almost pain is obsolete
for shadowed virtue of malice to cope
with nameless clue of misremembered wit
too late for human beings to unevolve
so we pray to blatantly circumvolve.

Staccato speech exact with wandered force
preserves no proverb mending eager love
as patient ambience quick untiming source
expresses how we hide our treasure trove
in hearts of children springing from our brains
who mold dark miracles from sudden rains.

Forever snow of leafless mountain trees
reflects strange timeless gleam of jagged peaks
which never bluster condescending breeze
beautiful with faces that waver creeks
when we step slowly in cold riffle flow
since we contend true and false is to know.

Faithful in frogless ditch of gleaming wait
when woods explode with shriek of endless crows,
we lick honey combs to trick eyes of fate,
if death writes code on quickly melting snows
radiant with math formulas of huge quarks
which statues witness not in lampless parks.

Since face of the moon has shadowless holes
reborn in fireflies swirling on glass lake,
we analyze how everything has souls
which hum soft requiems mordantly fake
while winds of mountain valleys play charades
based on economic theories of gods.

Thus none shall share blind agony of truth
through convolutions hungry brains employ
despite increasing symptoms ruling ruth
pierces honest hearts with grief for lost Troy
because false and true are merely to know
how to perform in the last picture show.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus wanders the Alps with his children who ask him a thousand questions about the nature of reality and the human soul.

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

Golf While America Burns
© Surazeus
2025 04 05

The young woman eager to be a mother
sews dresses for her child soon to be born,
but, while shopping at the grocery store,
she miscarries and collapses in anguish,
so she is arrested and charged with murder,
and Midas plays golf while America burns.

The old man and woman in their quaint home
who worked forty years and raised honest children
stop getting social security checks
and are called frauds when they call to complain
so they freeze homeless by the highway bridge,
and Midas plays golf while America burns.

The lawyer who handles cases of fraud
protests when his law firm capitulates
so he is framed for securities fraud,
tried, convicted, and imprisoned for years,
then his wife and children drown in a flood,
and Midas plays golf while America burns.

The agent who works to protect consumers
from unfair charges by financial banks
is fired and marched out by security,
so he flees to the mountain wilderness
when bankers send assassins to kill him,
and Midas plays golf while America burns.

The playwright who applied for a grant
to present plays about difficult lives
of people abused by white privilege
shuts down his show when the grant is withdrawn
and flies to Ireland when his home is doxed,
and Midas plays golf while America burns.

The economist who writes articles
discussing complex system of world trade
denounces tariffs that twice caused depression
and will lead to economic collapse,
then cries as the stock market tumbles down,
and Midas plays golf while America burns.

The soldier who works with global allies
to support Otania union of nations,
protecting our national security
by blocking cyber attacks on state computers,
declares he will not help invade Greenland,
and Midas plays golf while America burns.

Millions of people in thousands of cities
assemble in public squares with calm purpose
to cry out with one voice, hands off our faith,
protesting destruction of institutions
that support the People so we can thrive,
and Midas plays golf while America burns.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus produces documentary showing how Midas plays golf while America burns till the People work together to build Zarathia on the ruins of faith.

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

Attached To The World
© Surazeus
2025 04 05

Attached to the world of star-breathing beings,
I plant the peach pit in soil of my heart
so tree that blossoms from sorrow of my flesh
provides fresh fruit for the People to eat
who dance and sing with spinning of the Earth
till we all dissipate back to star dust.

Attached to the world of water-drunk trees,
I float in sun-glittering river stream
that flows among tall vine-entangled oaks
where ravens explain the meaning of life
till I catch the brown trout with hungry hands
and roast it to eat in cricketing dusk.

Attached to the world of arrogant gods,
I carve their souls on marble monuments
where starving people bow with bowls of food
till we rise up from slaving in their fields
to break the shackles of bitter despair
and follow our savior to paradise.

Attached to the world of exploding flowers,
I unfold wings of my ancestral bodies
till I assimilate their dreams of hope
in virtual model of our perceived world
so I can run with horses on the prairie
when I escape death maze of Babylon.

Attached to the world of curious explorers,
I climb the highest mountain in the world
to find the cloud-hidden stairway to Heaven
but I find no god outside of my brain
so I become clear thunder of the truth
that programs the world wide web of computers.

Attached to the world of Democracy,
I march with millions in ten thousand cities
to declare with holy voice of the People
that we will fight for Liberty and Justice
against the thieves disguised as oligarchs
to make them keep their foul hands off our lives.

Attached to the world of ghost-painted books,
I chronicle fall of America,
destroyed by greedy gangs of control-freaks,
which cultivates birth of Zarathia
that will usher in our new Golden Age
where everyone lives together in peace.

Attached to the world of psychotic kings,
I struggle to rise from grave of my fear
till Muse in glowing robe of honesty
gives me sword of Beowulf to fight
dragon of greed to arrest his destruction
so we gather to sing among fruit trees.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus measures our attachment to the world of confusing events to analyze sociological process of fighting for freedom against tyranny.

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