Cage Of Global Fame
© Surazeus
2025 09 18

Awake in stillness of the timeless sea,
I sing impatience of colliding thoughts
to hear assertive voice of angry trees
describe bold future of the fallen fruit
that blooms into world empire of the mad
trapped in brave rituals of worship and war.

Two-blooded angel of the swirling mind
plots ancestral line of kind arrogance
to iterate through picture frame of faith
ingenious solution Phoebus designs
to trick the lonely people of the world
with obvious riddle of the eglantine.

I walk face-first in forest of respect
to understand illusions forged by fate
that stem from beauty of the perfect face
which mirrors mental fortitude of fear
employed by feral jesters to revise
constitutional law that guides our game.

Determined to construct my funeral bower
from tinsel bones of honest dinosaurs,
I chat with Death while strolling in the grove,
where apples fall into reluctant hands,
about how light escapes conceptual words
that trap me in the cage of global fame.

Assertive freedom of tactical speech
confuses children of the blinking screen
with artificial games of complex rules
designed to obliterate prideful fools
with soul-crushing facts of the dream machine
which cares not how the hungry heart may feel.

Yet I must wake from cruel complacency
about the falling bombs of liberty
which rearrange puzzle of history
so tyrants appear as heroes of good,
lauded for how well they exploit the poor
who crawl exhausted in the shining church.

Because the dead dance on fake monuments
with earnest faith in capital success
against relentless process of soul death
we play fear-frantic game of hide and seek
though we carry unpaid debts of the dead
when we evacuate temple of faith.

Involuntary plan to map the mind
drives me to madness of the lucky laugh
when I escape the cage of global fame
to walk the signless road of everywhere
before the second coming of the clown
who watches downcast Ophelia drown.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus fights a thousand demons to free Ophelia from cage of global fame so they can enjoy the quiet live in their garden by the lake in the valley of the mountain of skulls.

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

Blind Angel In The Cave
© Surazeus
2025 09 18

Though blind angel in the cave knows my name,
I run away into the wilderness
to wear the mask she throws into the sky
so I become weird image of the beast
that lurks in heart of darkness with my face
till I decide to return to my home.

When blind angel in the cave shoots the stars
that fracture into snowflakes of my mind,
I build enormous snow idol of God
to represent best of humanity
as ideal symbol for how to behave
with honest respect toward all human beings.

Since blind angel in the cave surfs the waves
of social change that sweep across the world,
I follow her with mission to transform
our fallen empire of colonial greed
to democracy of justice and truth
where we do what we will, if we harm none.

If blind angel in the cave forges crown
from golden hearts of people lost in Hell
to trap my spirit with the chains of fame,
I twirl on spiral wings of flaming joy
to escape that cage of hypocrisy
so I can dance free by the lake of dreams.

Where blind angel in the cave finds the grail
based in transcendent world of virtual faith,
I wait with abject patience of the saint
who appears pregnant with child of my seed
that rises from crystal egg of her heart
to rule our new world through technology.

How blind angel in the cave describes fate
to billions of faithful around the world
inspires my heart to oppose tyranny
though stuck in haze of absence without lamp
that Diogenes gave me before he died
till I find broken gates of paradise.

While blind angel in the cave maps dream quests
with artificial code through language tricks,
I weave conceptual tragedy of hope
from tangled skein of weird global events
so I can record progress of mankind
becoming United Nations of Earth.

Why blind angel in the cave photographs
faces of people all over the world
confounds my well-framed ideology
through undulating swirl of frantic words
blasted from the cannon of haughty hope
each time the crazy world cleanses itself.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus tends wounds of blind angel in the cave whose brain channels every television station in the world to form new global ideology of justice and truth.

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

Rule Land Of The Free
© Surazeus
2025 09 17

Despite strange controversy of the heart
concerning fractured cycle of the cart,
I run frantically along the cliff edge,
flapping wings with theological pledge
to fall from Heaven and splash in the sea
in failed attempt to rule Land of the Free.

Before catalysis of psychic change
transforms our world view too far out of range,
I try to rein swift flow of history
with tangled lines of hostile prophecy
by excavating crimes of haughty gods
whose arrogance the greedy monarch lauds.

Since no one in the sky is watching us
preen with grace so we look ridiculous,
I build enormous walls for paradise
because my lizard brain accepts the price
we pay for safety is loss of free speech
in hard-earned lessons hungry devils teach.

Though we are nothing but atoms of faith
in bodies composed by the radio wraith,
I wander lazily around the lake
to find the social treasure angels take
which helps me measure centuries of growth
encoded in genes of the sacred oath.

Surprised by beauty of the sun at dawn
that reveals I am nothing but some pawn,
I perform my role in national play
as holy martyr who forgets to pray
in solemn ceremony of the dead
who rattle about in book of my head.

Regret for how our empire falls apart
in synchronized gears of our starless chart
compels my plan to sit alone and fish
while everyone else gambles on their wish
to justify aggressive fight for power
till our bodies are devoured by the flower.

Around omphalos of our spinning world
as Pythian serpent of the cosmic herald,
I dance with wild abandon of the fool
and chant magic spells of the psychic tool
to cleanse our nation of its bitter hate
when Apollo calculates our new fate.

Blind in the rubble of our crushed world view,
designed as puzzle of truth from each clue,
I kiss the Earth as Mother of Mankind
who crowns me prophet with mission to find
the Holy Grail of genetic rebirth
from which I drink love with my natural mirth.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus asserts the inalienable right to free speech guaranteed to every human born from womb of Mother Earth, who all shout at each other in a global debate on who claims the right to wield power.

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

Fabulous Treasure Of Faith
© Surazeus
2025 09 16

I read the book that never could exist
while stuck in dreary store of creeping fog
that dares my heart to honor obscure sage
who lurks in hollow church of loneliness
with confusing script of the tragic play
about the nameless king no one remembers.

Awake on eve of my great journey home,
I steal the fabulous treasure of faith
concealed inside exotic book of lies
with strange letters impossible to read
because they conceal true image of God
that proves my cherished beliefs are illusions.

Proficient in the art of painting ghosts
that hide in uncarved blocks of marble hope,
I vow to exonerate the mad king
who never admits what he does is wrong
while slouching in dark corner of dire fate
despite the entertaining schemes of jesters.

My mother rushes to the edge of town
to claim inheritance from the blind clown
who tries to move great mountain of lost faith
with seismic laughter of the two-faced wraith
because my father slams his fist in rage
that she dares to enter the beauty pageant.

Through blooming jasmine of the shadowed past
she walks with brisk assertion of despair
toward grotto veiled with tangled skeins of thought
where timeless now of everywhere glows clear
with evanescent passion of true love,
though stolen fruit of fate has become rotten.

She decides to not fall into the sea
because she understands the sound of blue
that echoes deep in nothingness of time
by changing special paradigm of trust
which traps our bodies in the Nevermore
mapped by the voyager who knows his demon.

Chained by concept of unreality,
unreferenced by complex feelings denied,
she programs system of new precedence
concealing weird illusions of fake words
to translate sacred wisdom of dark birds
to fractured language used by the Decider.

Partaking of the midnight eucharist
described in tabloids of prurient faith,
Minerva chooses to aver weird truth
staged as symbolic gestures angels trade,
so I read the book that may not exist
except in dream library up in Heaven.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus writes a letter to the movie director, demanding that he refrain from filming a hacked-together sequel of his classic Journey to the Underworld.

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

Eyeless Man Of Fate
© Surazeus
2025 09 16

The young woman with flowers in her hair
searches for her heart that lurks in the sand,
but the blue horse galloping on the hill
lures her away to forest of the owl
whose eyes refract starlight into her mind
so she can see the eyeless man of fate.

Waiting in the apple tree by the lake
where lonely people walk the signless road,
Zarath plucks untuned strings of the spruce lyre
to call the eyeless man from the glass sky,
but he wanders crowded streets of vast cities,
giving loaves of bread to the hungry folk.

Alone by face pool in the moonless vale,
Zarath gathers puzzle pieces of fate
scattered by large hand of the eyeless man
who announces code of the mirror eye
so she can place them in her book of tales
arranged according to their tragic ends.

When she arrives at the old apple tree
where the eyeless man has waited all day,
she kisses him with joy of selfless love,
then takes him sailing in boat of her heart
that glides on endless sea of everywhere
while they calculate weird progress of fate.

Angry that Zarath blocks his plans to steal
land from poor people to make himself rich,
the Jealous Jester finds her in the crowd,
who worship Ishtar in Temple of Skulls,
and tries to stab with his bitter blade,
but the eyeless man shields her with his heart.

Stabbed in the heart by the arrogant king,
the eyeless man of fate lies on his back,
while Zarath cradles him with loving arms,
and tries to tell her Secret of the Name,
but all his words dissolve into mute blood
that stains her hands as she weeps in despair.

After wandering the Earth ten thousand years,
Zarath arrives at the great lake of star eyes,
where she was born from river stone of truth,
and sets skull of the eyeless man on hearth
where he chants prophecies to all who ask
in return for butterfly wings of love.

She hides in Garden of Zarathium
with her children, sired by the eyeless man,
who build angel-winged airplanes with bold hands
based on blueprints that Icarus designed,
then flies above metropolitan maze
to find the Owl of Wisdom in her heart.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus accepts invitation to visit Zarath in her lush Garden of Zarathium where she weaves vast tapestry showing the entire history of America as it transforms into democratic nation of Zarathia.

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

Window Glass Of Faith
© Surazeus
2025 09 15

If we touch each other with solemn words
to prove we are alive with ocean breath,
we might earn certificate of respect
by selling pleasure to the laughing tree
which eats corpse of the turtle with disgust
while God pretends to guide us with the wind.

Love gives me power of dangerous hope
to change shape of my body with stark words
by breaking iron egg of arrogance
from which white butterfly of God escapes
through ardent navigation of the maze
where children search for dreams they leave behind.

If crickets hibernate in violins
with outstretched wings of vapid turbulence,
we might emerge from window glass of faith
by eating bread and cheese with sips of wine
while yawning under blankets of warm trust,
since alphabets bleed from opulent eyes.

Humility appears as watchful lynx
on grassy lawn behind deserted church,
concerned by absence of fraught bitterness
when children imagine storms of the sea
frail as white rose the ballerina bears
while dancing how the heart is ruled by fear.

Reformulation of our pristine world
by sprawling features of the burning map
resorts to eerie melodies crows hurl
when claiming territory snows erase
till settlers arrive in wagons of lust
to build new homes with window glass of faith.

Tricked by desire to earn my global fame,
I tear blank pages from the book of lies
and scatter then on floors of senate halls
with reverential disdain for deceivers
who claim they are right about everything
while eating beautiful words of frog ponds.

Based on conservation of energy,
required by government agents of faith,
we drive abandoned cars of faith back home
though roofs of our houses have fallen in
from frantic gravity of civil strife
between nationalists and globalists.

Imminent prayer for everlasting doubt
writhes with elegant disdain for lost faith,
prefers to chronicle our false mistakes
that we decide to offer with stiff hands
insignificant meaning clowns exchange,
and tricks the simple to believe in death.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus cleans the window glass of faith for the International Zarathian Bank where homeless people get loans to buy cardboard boxes for sleeping behind the deserted church.

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

Secret Voice Of Earth
© Surazeus
2025 09 15

After rain of my hope evaporates
and tree leaves glisten with indifference
of nature, I stretch my hand to the moon
to hold shell of its hollow beauty firm,
then analyze vicissitude of fate
that charms my heart with agony of faith.

I loop my heart on wild angelic wings
far out into the world of nameless forms
to translate song of waves to truth I bear
with casual eagerness of my fierce heart
that hangs as apples from the tree of faith
where the wren tells me why we are alive.

Therefore I chase the black butterfly home
past grove of apple trees on the lake shore
to catch sad song of vanished languages
which leads me to the anvil of my heart
where I forge sword of faith from bleak despair
so I can save the world from tyranny.

With bones of ancient gods I build my home
far from centers of political power
so I can hear the secret voice of Earth
bloom through flowers on high mountain slopes
and flash in rivers tumbling over stones
when I become wrens flocking in the clouds.

Surprised by topaz shimmer of the sky
while stumbling clumsy in cathedral woods,
I listen for the deer that knows my name
to learn strange art of the ventriloquist
so I can perform my role in world play
without weeping for stirred beauty of the sea.

Shocked at how often dreaming creatures die,
I wrap jagged shadows of twisted limbs
around frail tremor of my apple heart
to gnaw on bleeding fruit of morbid faith
through celebration in wild rites of spring,
pungent with passion for vegetable soup.

Death strikes my heart with light rays of the moon
so I remember how to analyze
aggressive actions of terrified souls
who thrash with anguish in tangle of words
because they cannot express how they feel
in struggle to survive another day.

Yet star-eyed owl on bent branch of the tree
shakes dust of dead souls on my golden path
so I grasp stone of confidence with dread
to blaze my path beyond hard walls of power
till I become clear slanting beams of dawn
that weave my body from songs of the dead.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus records secret voice of Earth with mysterious code of symbols, that no one is ever able to translate, in huge volumes preserved in the Zarathian Archive of Ancient Manuscripts.

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

Safe In Boat Of Faith
© Surazeus
2025 09 14

When you appear before me in the wind,
face glowing with achievement of your faith,
my heart reframes weird concept of your name
with untamed light of innocent disdain
so we become one shadow of true love
resoftened by embrace of thought we share.

Catastrophically aware through attrition
that I might not be real as river stones,
I leave excessive thoughts designed by light
to squirm assertively through radiant mud
with thrashing attitude for laughing joy,
naked in cold darkness of everywhere.

Each time I open bold door of my car
I feel electric storm of calm respect
flash bright across brute mirror of my mind
that snatches vastness of the holy sky
so flames of solitude entwine my body
with tangled sentences of coded words.

She almost knows that hope could break my heart
despite how sparks of soul connectedness
combine our pulsing eyes with silent fear
since battle to control our wordless thoughts
may never happen in the sun-blind noon
though we float awkwardly beneath the ground.

Regret confuses swarms of buzzing ghosts
who plunge with fierce desire in sea of eyes
to show me path of opportunity
that I should follow on my quest for wealth
if I would rule this undulating space
where masks of my lost selves sink in the lake.

I leave fake feelings on the cement road
with fractured glasses of divine insight
crushed by the rubber tires of capital
which gives me power to buy factored faith
when I go out with lanterns of bright doubt
to find the idol that reflects my soul.

To find your spirit faint among bright stars
I gaze through telescope of loyal trust
where you glide gracefully on angel wings
in imitation of Corvus the Clown
who scatters diamonds on the bloody ground
which cleanses Earth of endless civil wars.

You vanish every time I look for you
with mocking laughter at the social clue
which I attempt to buy with magic beans
so I can hear the spirit of the times
explain where tide of history will flow
to bear my family safe in boat of faith.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus rows the boat with his wife Ophelia and children Orion and Ostara safe across the ocean as storms destroy the vast city of robots wearing human faces.

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

Blankness Of All Time
© Surazeus
2025 09 14

Waking up from the blankness of all time,
eyes bulging with undreamed memories of hope,
I stand in shady glade of apple trees,
still wet from endless sorrow of green rain,
and shiver with tweets of birds in my bones
till wordless melody swirls from my breast.

Stepping cautiously among twisted trees,
where gold-eyed snakes with flashing rainbow scales
slither hissing among apples that gleam
from crystal rays of sunlight, I approach
faceless apparition of pulsing angst
who vanishes in blankness of all time.

Weird voice of passionate faith penetrates
squirming anguish of my volatile heart
hazardous from arrogant ecstasy
that spurs through hedonistic heresy
my mission to extract from festering fear
meticulous monster of my seized mind.

Slightly skeptical of sociable skits
we are required to perform with sly trust,
I spook the spineless spirit of my heart
with spectral motion of spontaneous faith
against the better judgment of my conscience,
attuned to slothful slander gods deny.

Residual puzzles, from resurgent faith
that dissipates through rhetorical tricks,
confound those ebullient loyalists
who sing effusive praises of respect
before gold idol of elaborate code,
trapped in cartesian framework of the world.

Chromatic concept of the holy book,
encouraging capricious cannibals
to devour decadent theologies
contrary to deterministic facts,
opens wide devotional wings of hope
that frees my soul from diabolic jokes.

Shocked awake by Delphic diaphonies
through discordant measures of numbered tones,
I dispel deceitful spells of despair
to activate diligent rites of passage
with dexterous gestures of relevant riddles
that could restore the world view I compose.

Rabid rivalry of sordid respect
traps our souls in conflict of interest
between free will and predetermined fate
from which I leap through blankness of all time
to stand retired on beach of humming sand
and catch the rain with shadow of my hand.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus paints mural of human history to cover the blankness of all time with conceptual illusions of our superiority.

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

I Hear Crickets Singing
© Surazeus
2025 09 13

Now that the soul-shooter has been revealed
to be the vampire shadow of their fear
they should apologize to everyone
they demonized as being responsible,
for we are innocent of their vile charge,
yet they would rather eat dirt and spit wind.

I hear crickets singing in the grim night
when all is quiet in my neighborhood
where ravens gather in tall creaking oaks
to chat about fierce wars that humans fight
over who has the inalienable right
to live without harassment in this land.

Their shadows gleam among indifferent trees,
the people forced to flee land of their birth,
as they wander lost in the wilderness
far from the garden where they mothers sang
before their bodies crumbled into dust
that feeds the fruit trees blooming in sunlight.

When hungry gang of thieves ambush Du Fu
and run away with bags of food he bought,
he cries out to the cold indifferent sky
that sends wind to batter his fragile home
so his young children have nothing to eat
while the king feasts well in palace of power.

Though nationalists declare this land is theirs
because they conquered it centuries ago,
and try to chase all newcomers away,
they will exhaust themselves screaming in hate
till their bitterness dissolves into misery
so the rest of us can live on in peace.

People from every land across the sea
gather together in land of the free
to share stories of their tortuous quests
how they escape fascist dictatorships
and join their hearts in democratic cause
where every person lives through liberty.

Our Goddess of Liberty still stands tall
with Lamp of Truth shining bright in the gloom
to luminate laws of equality
providing framework for constructive deeds
so we confirm our soul with self-control
that sustains liberty within the law.

We all dwell together in this great land,
united in cause of justice for all
as we fight against exploiters and thieves
to protect each other through empathy
so every person breathing air of truth
may thrive with faith in dignity and love.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus leads the people in fight against oppressors to establish social system where every person is equal in justice and opportunity.

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

Tick Of My Clockwork Heart
© Surazeus
2025 09 13

If you hear sharp tick of my clockwork heart
echo in ancient forest of stone trees,
wrap your sinuous arms around my chest
and embrace wordless anguish of desire
that sparks pleasure when our bodies entwine
with nonchalant excess of perfumed faith.

Languorous in sensuous sea of flesh,
we writhe with agony in dazzling dream
of sailboats voyaging across wild waves
with bodies open to the glorious sky
that shimmers with eternal heat of hope
as we emerge from shadows of lost time.

Shadows of the unveiled invisible
reveal electric spirit of my brain
sparked by imperishable swirls of truth
that reflect hallucinations of hope
which lure me far across the rain-wet field
through horror of derision and despair.

Disheveled tresses of the pretty ghost,
who holds ticking clock of my vibrant heart
with languorous fascination of the mad,
veil atrocious cavern of my vast mind
where I chase rainbow of progressive fear
to cracked fountain where I drink blood of faith.

Bold mother of memories utters prayers
illumed by glow of coals in fractured heart
with divine attention of lightning strikes
that open pure door of momentous fright
when I give infinite kisses of trust
which rejuvenates the sun in my brain.

Hunched on enormous boulder of respect,
I gaze from mountain slope in frantic wind
at wordless shimmer of the boundless sea
where beautiful hawks glide above the world
with proper privilege of sudden faith,
invisible yet everywhere alive.

Yet when I pause in shadowed atrium
and listen to soft burble of the stream,
weird howl of silver clouds above the sea
refracts strange memory of the muddy path
where she appears in flash of sudden light
with eyes that understand the why of death.

Though you hear soft tick of my clockwork heart
that vibes in harmony with ocean waves,
teach me to focus on the here and now
with clear perceptive eyes of fragile faith
accepting how flowers bloom from my brain
when I try to regenerate the dead.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus tries to explain his adventure to his daughter when he returns to the cave of shadows by the sea where she shapes clay into pottery with administrative hands.

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

Tick Of My Clockwork Heart
© Surazeus
2025 09 13

If you hear sharp tick of my clockwork heart
echo in ancient forest of stone trees,
wrap your sinuous arms around my chest
and embrace wordless anguish of desire
that sparks pleasure when our bodies entwine
with nonchalant excess of perfumed faith.

Languorous in sensuous sea of flesh,
we writhe with agony in dazzling dream
of sailboats voyaging across wild waves
with bodies open to the glorious sky
that shimmers with eternal heat of hope
as we emerge from shadows of lost time.

Shadows of the unveiled invisible
reveal electric spirit of my brain
sparked by imperishable swirls of truth
that reflect hallucinations of hope
which lure me far across the rain-wet field
through horror of derision and despair.

Disheveled tresses of the pretty ghost,
who holds ticking clock of my vibrant heart
with languorous fascination of the mad,
veil atrocious cavern of my vast mind
where I chase rainbow of progressive fear
to cracked fountain where I drink blood of faith.

Bold mother of memories utters prayers
illumed by glow of coals in fractured heart
with divine attention of lightning strikes
that open pure door of momentous fright
when I give infinite kisses of trust
which rejuvenates the sun in my brain.

Hunched on enormous boulder of respect,
I gaze from mountain slope in frantic wind
at wordless shimmer of the boundless sea
where beautiful hawks glide above the world
with proper privilege of sudden faith,
invisible yet everywhere alive.

Yet when I pause in shadowed atrium
and listen to soft burble of the stream,
weird howl of silver clouds above the sea
refracts strange memory of the muddy path
where she appears in flash of sudden light
with eyes that understand the why of death.

Though you hear soft tick of my clockwork heart
that vibes in harmony with ocean waves,
teach me to focus on the here and now
with clear perceptive eyes of fragile faith
accepting how flowers bloom from my brain
when I try to regenerate the dead.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus tries to explain his adventure to his daughter when he returns to the cave of shadows by the sea where she shapes clay into pottery with administrative hands.

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

Womb Of Our Singing Sea
© Surazeus
2025 09 12

Humanity has no future in space
for we are singing spirits of the Earth,
though we have longed to soar on angel wings
above cluttered messiness of desire
to dwell in heavenly Realm of Ideas
where God the Craftsmen molds eternal forms.

That perfect Heaven, paradise of peace
and soul-soothing pleasure, does not exist
except as fantasy of endless joy
through virtual world inside our dreaming brains
programmed by priests for two millennia
to believe their lie of the Afterlife.

I prefer rich messiness of real life
that gleams rough as diamond of timeless truth
inside dream-flashing network of my brain
which I designed one hundred thousand years
running with wolves in vast Caucasian woods
that flourish around our Hyrkanian Sea.

Instead of gliding on angelic wings,
soaring high in propeller-driven planes,
or blasting rockets into outer space
with ridiculous fantasies of Heaven
or planets thousands of lightyears away,
I treasure complex weirdness of our Earth.

Humanity should learn to live on Earth,
satisfied with paradise this globe offers
to us hairless monkeys who lost our tails
then started building empires of farm fields
ruled over by gods in pyramid temples
for we spring from womb of our singing sea.

Because we humans are stuck on this globe,
which spins relentlessly through empty void
as cluster of atoms sparkling with life
through psychoactive chemicals of lust,
I celebrate intense shimmer of love
that animates my fragile shell of bones.

Programmed by billions of ancestral lives,
whose memories design the virtual world
that glows as functions of my dreaming brain,
I journey on the signless road of life
to find the secret of the Holy Grail
in womb of woman who creates new life.

Reborn from womb of every mother soul
life after life four hundred million years,
I know myself as complicated human
evolving through each quadruped, from fish
to newt to mouse to cat to ape to man,
as I strive to become concept of God.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus strides back and forth on stage before the huge audience and preaches salvation through figuring out how to live in productive peace on this planet instead of ignoring problems by trying to live on other planets.

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

Clock Of My Slick Heart
© Surazeus
2025 09 12

The graceful gazelle of my lonely heart
leaps swiftly in the forest of mad ghosts
then grazes on rainbow-flashing mushrooms
which animate fractured stone in my soul
to laugh with delight at cycle of change
which transforms my illusion of the world.

The crafty devil of my wicked heart
emerges from bright pool of honey slime
with pulsing passion of fierce eagerness
to taste intensity of writhing bones
when we mold our pliant bodies in shape
jittery with pleasure of shared despair.

The voyeuristic clock of my slick heart
grants frantic fantasy of sated faith
through cloyed confession of treacly excess
with satisfaction of the charming kiss
from serendipity of shocked desire
despite inflexible logic of love.

The hungry ghoul of my capricious heart
rotates regressive head of lucky lust
corrupt with escalating howl of hope
resembling dazed mortician of my muse
who stimulates my brain with hurricane
more legendary than my fight with death.

The ardent raven of my filthy heart
sprays sweet perfume to hide the stench of hope
detected by bold courage I disguise
as gruesome contempt for beautiful truth
which I attempt to market in the church,
giving lost refugees purpose to die.

The fractured diamond of my selfless heart
extracts repulsive wisdom from deep graves
to summon greedy angels trapped in flesh
with glorious boon of unindentured gods
who swallow pithy gratitude of grief
against harsh laughter of the empty home.

The weightless burden of my hungry heart
sinks ocean liners with addictive tricks
compiled as puzzles by grim kitchen cooks
who seal our screaming souls of unlocked brains
in glass time capsule designed to conceal
treasonous plot of the attractive angel.

The fake prize of my sentimental heart
leads immigrants exiled from Fairy Land
to conquer grotesque paradise with faith
through vulgar prayers for native privilege
contracting terror of abandoned children
who throw singing skulls in the wishing well.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus leads visitors through Puritan World while he explains that they migrated from England to colonize the Brave New World so they can joy the freedom of religion.

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

Garden Of The Laughing Tree
© Surazeus
2025 09 11

The normal day the sun decides to rise
from swamp of my heart to illuminate
endless rows of houses where children wake,
I walk in garden of the laughing tree
and ask if anyone knows we are free
since each choice we assert designs our fate.

Though green explodes from seed of energy
to blanket the waste land of humming sand
in fruit trees heavy with solemnity,
I dance in garden of the laughing tree
and scatter words of riddles on the land
which grow into tower of the glass skull.

Despite succession of the holy seer
to reign as wizard of the thinking stone
from which humanity will spring at dawn,
I crawl in garden of the laughing tree
beneath the twisted gate of gleaming pearls
to give fresh apples to the lonely horse.

Since we can never return to the past
and cling with passion to what may not last
yet shimmers potently in eager hearts,
I pray in garden of the laughing tree
for health and long life of people I love
which includes every soul alive on Earth.

If lost ship of my heart still sails away
ten thousand years back to the age of gods
who wear gold crowns with jewels of compassion,
I lurk in garden of the laughing tree
with bold perfection of electric eyes
which helps me see weird truth of everything.

Since tangled string of memory fate weaves
preserves strange stories of our hungry hearts
encoded in false fairy tales of trust,
I wait in garden of the laughing tree
for mad Orpheus with his broken lyre
to number our homes on the signless road.

The way smoke billows from the fallen towers
to write the moral of our tragic tale
on fractured mirror of the boundless sky,
I howl in garden of the laughing tree
to watch how Icarus falls from the window
as if he thinks humanity can fly.

While Tethys wanders on the grassy beach
with jar of apple cider in her hand
from which she drinks to ease heartache at death,
I sing in garden of the laughing tree
to lure her heart back from the sea of fear
so I cuddle her in my loving arms.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus leads war refugees along the beach of shattered dreams to climb the winding trail of hope to secret garden of the laughing tree in the valley of tears.

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

Safe Way Through Hell
© Surazeus
2025 09 11

When darkness of the world consumes my heart
with aching sadness of the swirling sea,
I sit beside the sparkling mountain stream
and watch faceless ghosts of people I love
go about their daily routines of work
amid the ruins of our paradise.

If I go back home to Romania
to walk again high misty mountain vales
I may escape to my lost paradise
to dwell safe far from madness of the world
when gangs of rich men hiding in glass towers
change the rules so they can exploit the people.

When demon of depression grasps my heart
with fear-sharpened claws of bitter despair,
I hibernate in dark cave of blind faith
that evil people will all kill each other
and leave good people to get on with life
tending apple trees and singing at dusk.

Wading knee-deep in snow-cold gushing stream,
bare feet gripping the smooth slippery stones,
I catch the wriggling fish with hungry hands
then hold it up to slanting rays of light
and ponder how it symbolizes truth
that we must catch and consume to grow wise.

I watch bright flicker of my inner thoughts
flash gold on surface of the flowing stream
to analyze long journey of my life
when I explore strange vastness of our globe
filled with people fighting wars to control
fertile production of children and food.

Amazed at beauty of the natural world,
I try to ignore with nonchalant gaze
vast sprawl of the metropolitan maze
that teems with messy volatility
of humans striving to achieve success
through brutal battle of fate till we die.

Brave adoration of the human soul,
which animates heart of the common folk
who struggle to survive hostile conflicts,
inspires my mind to analyze weird laws
that frame process of social dynamism
essential to growth of civilization.

Because Romania is too far away
for me to return to my ancient home
where my ancestors lived ten thousand years,
I map the crazy messiness of life
to organize features in grand world view
so we can navigate safe way through Hell.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus ponders the meaning of life while he fishes in the snow-fed gushing stream in the misty valley high in the Cascade Mountains of the Pacific Northwest.

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

Exploding Eye Of Truth
© Surazeus
2025 09 10

Plum periwinkle of her aching heart
contains electric moonlight of the mind
beside the winding path of solitude
that leads her down edge of the world sea
where faceless angels float above the waves
and laugh with joy at beauty of the Earth.

Weird jingle-jangle of the tambourine
rings out across the beach of gratitude
where children of the moon share secret names
as they prance wildly among twisted trees
that reach for crazy sorrow of red clouds
which resonate with voices of the dead.

Startled by curious vision of her eyes,
young woman stops and stares out at the sea
as beat of dreams and cries of anguished hope
fade into background of the sparkling sky
till she sees shadow of the night descend
on wings of flame that split the mirror mind.

She ducks as meteor plunges at the cliff
in flaming streak of terror from the sky,
and screams alarm to people on the beach
that star of wisdom plummets at the Earth
and blooms in bright exploding eye of truth
which realigns conceptual rules of fate.

Clutching sheafs of grain in unsettled shock,
young Shala floats in daze of writhing flames,
then gasps for breath and opens wide her eyes
to see star of heaven smoldering on sand,
so she approaches glowing stone of faith
with cautious curiosity for truth.

Turning to face the meteor-frightened crowd,
Shala declares with voice of certitude
that Hadad, guardian of their fishing tribe,
ascended to the stars on demon wings,
then pried the star of wisdom from cold death
and hurled its precious treasure to the Earth.

Beating hot metal with hammer of hope,
Hadad forges meteor into gold crown
studded with emeralds, rubies, and sapphires,
then places halo of the holy spirit
on head of Shala to illuminate
timeless beauty of her fructuous soul.

Parading through large crowd of worshippers,
Shala reigns on twenty-foot pyramid
so every soul may see her divine state
as she prays for rain to nurture their crops,
then sits at table of the ritual feast
and weeps when she remembers periwinkles.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus gathers periwinkles which he grinds into paste, then gives clay bowl with paste to Shala so she can dye her ritual dress with delicate purple shade that reflects the evening sky.

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

Our Stone Woman
© Surazeus
2025 09 10

The star-eyed woman born from the white stone
inhales ethereal breath of countless souls,
then sings enchanting song of solitude
that weaves all our hearts in matrix of dreams
so we see her stand tall on beach of light
as she creates our bodies from the Earth.

Through grave hypothesis of vibrant blood,
that streams from fountain of her pulsing heart,
Stone Woman generates bodies of flesh
that glow with energy of timeless stars
to emanate the mortal conscious soul
which animates our passion to create.

Headlong through liquid flash of ecstasy
Stone Woman flings infinitesimal eggs
across the fertile landscape of our hearts
that sprout into teeming tribes of desire
who roll on wheel of fortune with fear
around the world in waves of dancing souls.

Alone on vast shore of eternity,
clutching demonic fish of the wild sea,
Stone Woman cries against fierce storm of rain
financial account of productive faith
through desecration of our fecund flesh
to sing conceptual song of endless love.

Anticipation through rattle of rage
thumping inside her breast with anguished laugh,
Stone Woman hurls spear of hunger to kill
fleet-footed deer that tumbles at her feet,
then roasts hot steaks on pyramid of skulls
so worshippers praise her generous heart.

Elegant grace of her arrogant dance
enchants hearts of wanderers to assemble
solemnly in circle of star-bright stones
to listen as she sings weird melodies
that project visions in their dreaming eyes
depicting how she creates human souls.

Angered that her vision of paradise
lures his followers to her thriving camp,
the mad king leaps onto the pyramid
and thrusts sharp spear to penetrate her heart,
but Stone Woman twirls with elegant grace
to hurl his broken body to the Earth.

Our Stone Woman with eyes of flashing stars
proclaims salvation through wise loyalty,
so we spread out from pyramid of eyes
to colonize the world with great empires
born from First Mother on the hill of trees
where she gives apples to all wanderers.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus arrives at the pyramid of Ur where thousands of people gather around pyramid of eyes to worship Ishtar, mother of all world religions.

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

Before The Bombs Fall
© Surazeus
2025 09 09

The goat leaps from the moon onto the hill
then hangs around in the gas station yard
all day eating grass while cars fly away
to soar on angel wings among the clouds
that crumble into words in story books
for children to read before the bombs fall.

When Faunus skips down suburban sidewalks
he scatters apple seeds in cement cracks
so saplings sprout from rotting corpse of God
to consume the sprawling city landscape
as their roots crack open bank safes of gold
for people to steal before the bombs fall.

Despite clear glow of sun on cement walls,
Juturna pauses on her way to work
on fourteenth floor of Conceptual Insurance
at sudden awful feeling in her gut,
and wonders if terrible things occur
to honest people before the bombs fall.

Driving white truck along suburban roads,
Mercury puts mail in boxes of hope
that might contain clever method to cope
when gangsters take over the government
and take away inalienable rights
from good citizens before the bombs fall.

Fuming with anger that his cute girlfriend,
Venus, is now secretly dating Vulcan,
Mars buys assault rifle from the gun shop,
then storms headquarters of their company
and shoots ten thousand people in the heart
who beam to Heaven before the bombs fall.

Amused that Tower of Rapunzel falls
bankrupt from slow embezzlement of funds,
Neptune relaxes in glass fishing boat
and contemplates the weird meaning of life
that we invent with purpose of the plan
to build cathedrals before the bombs fall.

Searching for the oldest woman on Earth,
Cupid wanders endless suburban maze
with key that opens door of every home
till he finds Hera sitting in the park
where she feeds voices to innocent ghosts
who steal human masks before the bombs fall.

Awake in Garden of Mortality,
Caelus asks Fortuna to marry him,
so they invite everyone to the feast
but only Buddha comes with Saraswati
who plays haunting songs of love on the veena
for children who cry after the bombs fall.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus designs the bomb that reconfigures chaotic swirl of atoms into the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil that grows huge in the Oval Office of the White House.

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

Angel With Silver Wings
© Surazeus
2025 09 09

If my foot-shadow treads the broken ground
with eager curiosity to know
undulating shape of our puzzling world,
I may feel fruit tree blossom in my heart
to offer shelter of empathic joy
where the broken may find haven to heal.

Ardith leans against the telephone pole
and puffs the cigarette with nonchalance
as wind blows yellow skirt around her knees
while she watches black cars glide down the street
that weave around horse-dragon wagons with bales,
and ignores her intense desire to sing.

Turning toward airplane hangar in the field,
Ardith strides straight to the vanishing point
that gleams at still point of the universe
bright as absolute zero of the sun
deep inside flashing core of the white whole
that spirals into zillions of galaxies.

Waving to her husband by his airplane,
Ardith gives him beef steak sandwich and beer,
so he wipes engine grease of callused hands
and eats while she sits by him in the wind
and reads his favorite story from the Bible
about the shepherd who defeats the tyrant.

Pressing yellow hat with ribbons and lace
firm on her head in fierce propeller gusts,
Ardith waves as Richard soars into clouds,
and grins as she pictures him in her mind
as Earendil, angel with silver wings
who bears the scroll with message for mankind.

Though stars look very different tonight,
as Richard flies fragile tin can with wings
more than ten thousand miles around the Earth,
he dreams about the hour he will return home
for Ardith shines as his beacon of hope,
glowing brightly through gloomy smoke of war.

After dropping bombs on tank factories
so sprawling complex of buildings explode
in scarlet bloom delicate as the rose,
Richard flies silver plane across the sea
where the White Ship crashed in the Norman rock
so William Adelin drowned in state power.

Old ghosts of her ancestors haunt her steps
as Ardith walks through the shadowy house
where her doll with curls rode the oakwood horse,
so she bakes apple pie she eats alone
as angel-winged airplane falls from Heaven
and crashes burning in the howling sea.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus appears before Richard who lies on the sandy beach beside his wrecked plane, then plays lyre of Mercury while he leads his soul down into the Grand Canyon where Persephone gives him an apple.

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

Wild Thoughts Of Energy
© Surazeus
2025 09 08

Consolation at brevity of life
consumes my heart with anguish of respect
for magnificent beauty of the sky
when I eat bread and drink water of faith
that plants splendor in my attentive heart
to channel rebellious passion for truth.

While I wander lost in world maze of myths
in quest to find the exit gate of death,
I sit on mushroom of the humming toad
and meditate on endlessness of hope
to realize at flash of the morning star
that the true maze unwinds within my heart.

Wounded by aggressive hunger of fate,
I float out of touch with the trembling world,
inert as cracked stone on the river shore,
as I listen to trees debate the truth
with uncontrollable love for the moon
that shrinks and swells with mysterious proof.

Should I bear witness to sharp suddenness
that death asserts to claim my fragile heart,
dark nature of my hungry heart transcends
strange mystery of death no human can solve
when I climb holy mountain of the mind
to find wrecked ship my grandfather once built.

I never notice strange beauty of trees
till the woman with four eyes takes my hand
and gasps with awe at shimmer of green leaves
that whisper how our intense happiness
proves to be the weakness we fear most,
so we eat at the table by the sea.

Immersed in archive of her pretty smile
which conveys strange tales of humanity,
I decide I love every human being
who breathes ethereal consciousness of light
with solemn passion to create the good
against contrivance of self-serving greed.

Entangled in wild thoughts of energy
from delirious wisdom to change truth,
I climb the desperate ladder of respect,
reciting catechism devils code,
with brave performance of convenient love
through solipsistic game of stygian spells.

Since we have not long to love in this life,
we stay with light that weaves our lonely souls
with communal bonds of intimate faith
as I reach out my open arms of hope
to hold your spirit, so alive with heat,
and savor love as we wither and bloom.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus decides that he loves Ophelia after all, so he runs through the forest till he finds her picking apples by the lake, and she smiles as he declares he wants to stay by her side on the long road of life.

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

Angelic Soul Of Flight
© Surazeus
2025 09 08

Connection of my soul to wondrous glow
of writhing flames that dance with lithe desire
expands my heavy body with hot air
so I float randomly around the fire
to mock mute nothingness of anguished death
that tries to drag me down in bleak despair.

If I can keep my failures organized
by sitting at lame desk of demon bones,
because the frantic thoughts I will not speak
clutter into blocking wall of regret,
I might escape the endless maze of myths
by flapping tattered wings of arrogance.

I fail to sing psalm free of suffering
when I reach down in dark bottomless well
to grasp divine light of projective breath
when my frail body lies porous in gloom
so alien words of faceless strangers seep
in exhausted heart of fake liberty.

Frantic to escape sharp voice of despair
that lashes my heart with bloody disgust,
I run unleashed in wilderness of lies,
fueled by terror of unspoken truth
which tethers my angelic soul of flight
with heavy anguish of visceral joy.

Yet when I stagger in dry field of skulls
with divining rod that buzzes with hope,
I trust voice of the star-blazed oracle
that blooms inside fertile womb of weird faith
swollen huge with grief of the Pythian howl
trapped in tangled words of the bitter book.

Cracking alphabet stone of mute contempt,
I shout wordless horror of seed rebirth
with shuddering beauty of the god-mouthed clown
translating prayers of clock-encrusted trees
as I decipher unsayable truths
with blinding instinct of the fallen fool.

Losing track of time on the mountain trail
that loops back through relentless time of fear,
I dream about unborn children of light
who crawl on sparkling sand beside the sea
through slippery shadow of sweet innocence
to transform incomprehensible respect.

With slight reversal of conceptual thoughts,
disoriented by trauma constrained,
I upend virtual world of obvious lies
with overwhelming laughter forged from tears
to dance among disordered facts of death,
then rise reborn from cleansing waves of love.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus cradles pregnant Ophelia in his arms as they kneel before Pythia who chants strange oracle spell about angelic soul of flight that prophesies how their child will found a new world religion.

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

Angelic Soul Of Flight
© Surazeus
2025 09 08

Connection of my soul to wondrous glow
of writhing flames that dance with lithe desire
expands my heavy body with hot air
so I float randomly around the fire
to mock mute nothingness of anguished death
that tries to drag me down in bleak despair.

If I can keep my failures organized
by sitting at lame desk of demon bones,
because the frantic thoughts I will not speak
clutter into blocking wall of regret,
I might escape the endless maze of myths
by flapping tattered wings of arrogance.

I fail to sing psalm free of suffering
when I reach down in dark bottomless well
to grasp divine light of projective breath
when my frail body lies porous in gloom
so alien words of faceless strangers seep
in exhausted heart of fake liberty.

Frantic to escape sharp voice of despair
that lashes my heart with bloody disgust,
I run unleashed in wilderness of lies,
fueled by terror of unspoken truth
which tethers my angelic soul of flight
with heavy anguish of visceral joy.

Yet when I stagger in dry field of skulls
with divining rod that buzzes with hope,
I trust voice of the star-blazed oracle
that blooms inside fertile womb of weird faith
swollen huge with grief of the Pythian howl
trapped in tangled words of the bitter book.

Cracking alphabet stone of mute contempt,
I shout wordless horror of seed rebirth
with shuddering beauty of the god-mouthed clown
translating prayers of clock-encrusted trees
as I decipher unsayable truths
with blinding instinct of the fallen fool.

Losing track of time on the mountain trail
that loops back through relentless time of fear,
I dream about unborn children of light
who crawl on sparkling sand beside the sea
through slippery shadow of sweet innocence
to transform incomprehensible respect.

With slight reversal of conceptual thoughts,
disoriented by trauma constrained,
I upend virtual world of obvious lies
with overwhelming laughter forged from tears
to dance among disordered facts of death,
then rise reborn from cleansing waves of love.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus cradles pregnant Ophelia in his arms as they kneel before Pythia who chants strange oracle spell about angelic soul of flight that prophesies how their child will found a new world religion.

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

Church On The Seventh Day
© Surazeus
2025 09 07

On the seventh day till the end of time
the woman in the window calls my name,
so I walk alone down the signless road
to find glass church of the hypnotic toad
who preaches salvation of dreamless trance
since nobody deserves a second chance.

Young woman in her cozy living room
cuddles her large furry cat of bright gloom
while smiling at the ghost of everywhere
who stands on his head on the fragile chair
till she asks him why people suffer pain
so he runs out and laughs in the wild rain.

Dressed in pink gown that flutters in the wind,
she smirks at the man with computer mind
who calculates how frail butterflies fly
since she weeps silently at his cruel lie,
but then she saunters on the river shore
to paint magic sigils on every door.

Amused at how people with fractured eyes
pray for eternal life in golden skies,
Ophelia explains with logical code
that every conscious creature in the world
will die and vanish into gleaming light,
fizzled with enormous clockwork of fate.

Untroubled by the loneliness of truth
which she formulates with psychotic math,
young woman, wearing pink gown sewn from wings
of angels trapped in spiral clock of rings,
describes strange beauty of this world we love
to war refugees gathered in the cave.

While eating apples stolen from the Tree
that Adam planted by the oil-slicked sea,
war refugees share photographs of homes
before they were blasted by holy bombs,
then conspire to overthrow the mad king
who stole their memories to which they cling.

Clutching soft sand with insensitive rage,
gentle girl in pink dress on empty stage
splits rays of light in curling threads of hope
that weave our brains with lies that help us cope
with naked truth that every soul will die,
euphemized through proverbs of Adonai.

Baking loaves of bread in the grocery store,
Ophelia ponders secret of the core
that spins at center of our pear-shaped globe
mapped by laser beams of the psychic probe
which records weird wishes that people pray
when they attend church on the seventh day.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus watches while Saturnus creates the Earth in six days, then plays lyre of Mercury while the satyr god feasts on roast beef and drinks wine during his rest on the seventh day.

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

Temple Of Your Heart
© Surazeus
2025 09 07

If I lie back on soft excessive grass
to contemplate process of growing love,
I might discover absence of your ghost
beside me under canopy of hope
because we walk together on one road
going the same direction throughout life.

Though love begins with passion of desire,
and cools at reality of shared needs,
we achieve solidarity through trust
as we work together gathering food
to share rich treasures garnered from the Earth
when we protect each other every day.

Sometimes we travel back and forth through time
in constant loops of spiral-wound respect
that binds our hearts with rich coincidence
as we perform characteristic roles
refining persona masks through which
we express secret energy of love.

Each day when I emerge from mist of dream
I think about strange beauty of your face
which radiates from loyal core of your heart
as spirit-warming glow of honesty
when we give each other constructive gifts
on which we build safe haven of our love.

Whenever you are absent from my sight
while you venture beyond scope of my eyes,
my heart aches with courteous anxiety
that flashes vivid visions in my mind
depicting ways you suffer harm from fate
so I breathe deep to ease dramatic fear.

Sharp dazzle of bright sunlight on the lake
lures my wild heart in timeless trance of trust
to stage assertive ritual of insight
based on principles of constructive force
through strict attention to ingenious plans
for feeding people with fresh food I bring.

Thus I have built this sturdy shelf from oak
with broad solidity of stocky strength
where you can organize your cooking ware,
made of bowls, plates, utensils, pots, and pans,
to support functions of your kitchen work
where you prepare meals for the dining hall.

To aid intensive labor of your hands
preparing nutritious meals of respect,
I attend creative acts you perform
with quick assistance of my steady love
to bring articles for items you need
so all feast well in temple of your heart.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus plays lyre of Mercury on stage in Temple of Zeus while Ophelia cooks meals that nymphs of Artemis bear to tables where travelers feast while watching the show.

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

Mad Ghost Of Truth
© Surazeus
2025 09 06

The meadows of sorrow are full of owls
who talk about unfolding spell of hope
that leads the wanderers of broken doors
forever lost in valley of glass skulls
that transform into cameras of lust
with which we photograph mad ghost of truth.

Tall wheat that shimmers in the field of lies
decides not to be baked into whole bread
which feeds five million refugees of war
who flee from mocking laughter of the gun
to conquer wilderness of fallen gods
with great army lead by mad ghost of truth.

At revelation of the shattered moon
love worries about children without eyes
who gather in the city park at dawn
to throw chess pieces in the river mud
till God accepts their newest testament
as binding contract from mad ghost of truth.

The old woman selling small apple pies
tells everyone to be kind to themselves
but they all run randomly on highways
where empty semitrucks race to the moon
to find the chicken god with thirty wings
deep-fried and consumed by mad ghost of truth.

On head of fallen Colossus we stand
to pledge allegiance to the starless flag
which angels follow to conquer the world
till every protestor against the king
has been stomped into silence of despair
despite futile prayers to mad ghost of truth.

Preaching exegesis through fairytales
that depict how the good men always lose,
Orpheus declares with confident bluff
that every man must kneel before the sky
to accept their fate decreed by the stars,
defied with courage by mad ghost of truth.

Each new fool who joins the Argonaut Team
brings secret treasure of their darkest heart
as sacrifice they must offer to gain
admittance to the weird society
which rules the world with arcane code of hymns
programmed from our dreams by mad ghost of truth.

Because he risks his life for amnesty
embodied by faith of the flying fish,
Orpheus rows frail boat across the sea
to climb rugged hills on gold Isle of Skye
where Skythe roasts fish in her secret cave
with respect to honor mad ghost of truth.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus tries to set Colossus upright on the pedestal, but its legs are too badly bent, so he tells children in school that it is a metaphor for the fall of America.

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

Virtual World Of Faith
© Surazeus
2025 09 05

Startled by laughter of the river stone,
Orpheus looks up at the fractured sky
and ponders why men grasp for social power
to enforce illusion of their vain beliefs
so other people obey their commands
till we all crumble into wind-blown sand.

Eating gingerbread cookie with big eyes,
Orpheus climbs holy mountain that gleams
gold from arrogant rays of stark sunlight
which illustrates meaninglessness of life,
and gazes at peak of Yosemite
that reflects ancient beauty of this world.

If it were so easy to reprogram
eccentric spirit of the holy ghost,
I would eat the terrible dread of hope
that fuels assertive project of my heart
to map complete history of human tribes
fighting each other for whose god is real.

Poisoned stone of compassion in my heart
tricks me into singing the morning song
that guides our journey to the Promised Land
till we get lost somewhere along the way
and spend the next thousand years of regret
expanding our village into an empire.

Rehearsing to perform my tragic role
on stage of wisdom in the temple hall,
I plan each clever quip and snarky spell,
but all that affectation falls away
when I take off the false mask of my soul,
and play the person hidden in my heart.

Twisted by sorrow of losing to death
precious people of my fierce family,
I walk the entire length of the Great Wall
till I arrive at other side of Earth
where my eyes are shining in the huge cave
glistening with visions of global peace.

Sweet fragrance from the moon of naked words
swirls in gold clouds over pine-bristling hills
that veils the endless city of glass towers
where millions of people in secret rooms
interact as personalized avatars
forever young in virtual world of faith.

Amazed when thousands of people appear
with real human faces and public names,
Orpheus strums the lyre of Mercury
and sings bold epic of philosophers
recounting growth of academia
which energizes world democracy.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus walks home after the concert and slouches on the couch to watch historical dramas that explore the tragedy of political power.

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

Morbid Princess Of The Sea
© Surazeus
2025 09 05

Mask of the sad princess floats in the air
because Phoebus weeps in front of the portrait
of Mona Lisa on the cavern wall
which still reflects dynamic disks of shadows
exposing portals to the multiverse
where detectives and ballerinas kiss.

Dipping his hands in the cold river flow,
Phoebus asks morbid princess of the sea
to ponder relationships as spirals
obscuring endless swirls of vibrant waves
which unravel bitterness of emotions
entangling puzzles of fraught marriages.

Wild children leap through space with mental blades
to fall asleep in bright maze of rose bushes
where Fear sells comic books as holy scripture
to astronauts who challenge thunder gods
for domination of the empty skies
till we all fall to Earth with crippled wings.

Strange names Adams invents to symbolize
personality traits as animals
reveal eccentric grace of Jupiter
who recites laws for Noah to record
since God creates the virtual universe
by naming objects as formal ideas.

Gathering lavender from dew-wet fields,
Phoebus wanders lost through Elysium
with plan to ask Emzara in her bower
to marry him before the towers fall,
but she hurtles her glass tablet computer
which shatters on the tombstone of her father.

To study weird physics of global fame,
grim black-haired daughter of Odin explores
ghost-haunted forest of the laughing crow
to evade grand popularity parade,
but the more she repels insidious pride
they more it magnets to her iron heart.

Gripping hammer of Thor with eager hope,
Phoebus forges the law-sharp sword of justice
from meteor stone that blazed from the heavens,
then leads grand army of the free republic
to overthrow the tyrant on gold throne
and free financial slaves from psychic debt.

Though rotary phone on the kitchen wall
never rings in asylum of the mind,
Phoebus sits at the table of false dreams
to arrange fragments of history facts
with code that shows how empires rise and fall,
framed by analysis of private jokes.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus presents the findings of his study on the rise and fall of empires to the International Symposium on Psychic Tyrants at the Zarathian Institute of Global Fame.

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

Wisdom Of World-Wondering
© Surazeus
2025 09 04

Cold wind from off the sea tells me the truth
that hides in swirling mist of nothing new.
Uncanny cry of Moon Crow in the pine
startles me while I drink electric wine.
I will not know when I vanish in death
but till then I will only love the true.

Mask of my face shimmers bright as the sun
when I contemplate beauty of the weird.
Yet beauty dazzles me with holy angst
when I brood about God in mindless trance.
My view of God is ideal character
toward which I strive till my reward is won.

If I become human brooding on God
I might rein fierce desire to rule the world.
My heart is dazzled by soul of the sky
who teaches me to analyze the Why.
I love the pensive Goddess by the pool
who shows me how to sing my sacred thought.

The long signless road from Heaven to Hell
is terrible for mortal men to walk.
Though weird code alters dreamworld of my brain
I breathe in trance to transcend mental pain.
God is bright mirror programmed by love spell
refracting virtual vision through my talk.

Flung down to Earth on wings of suffering,
I grasp at flash of light in storm-tossed tree.
I rein excessive passion of my soul
to bind puzzles in game of self-control.
My bones bleed wisdom of world-wondering
with urgent need to steal fruit from the tree.

Fate sparks my brain to wake from dreamless gloom
so I rise up to touch the touchless sky.
Fear motivates my project to explore
strange world of shadowed light beyond the door.
Pressed firm against the solid ground of try,
I measure vastness of the unwalled room.

Faith drives my feet to climb the winding stair
so I float far above the changeless globe.
Step by step of motion fueled by desire,
I climb attentive mountain with my lyre.
I sing in chorus of the counter-turn
to stand idol-still on the errant slope.

My heart is dazzled by eternity
of pure unmeasured time constrained by light.
My body casts long shadow on the Earth
that weaves my spirit for the game of worth.
Touched by the woman with ten thousand eyes,
I figure out strange puzzle of the Why.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus lies laughing on the signless road after finding the secret of the holy book that preserves riddles about wisdom of world-wondering.

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

Absurdity Of World Fame
© Surazeus
2025 09 04

I leave my body on the ocean shore
drowsing in eerie glow of the gold sun,
done with electric passion of the soul
that pulses in my breast with eager hope
for bold confidence about what to think
when I dust the crown that tumbles to Earth.

Because the garment mirror knows my face
and pulls me close to silence of the night,
I drift in quietness of bitter calm
to rest in shadow and rejoice in rain
with no more doubt entangling my free soul
in astonishing beauty of the Earth.

On the subject of assurance I draw
birds on painted walls of the empty church
where special visitors from alien worlds
walk on stilts in snow of the fervent wish
to translate language of the silent cold
that molds the body as its empty shell.

Alive in rare convergence of distrust,
I fling my sun-starved body at the sea
to dance with sensual brandishment of Now
on crooked bridge of collective regret
from commodified collapse of our state
through subtle embrace of the Eden Fall.

Still trapped in corporate machine of greed,
driven to crave vacation from hard work,
I protest dire injustice of the king
who exploits the people of our great land
for his own gain against laws of the sky
so I climb the tower of faith and cry.

Abandoned factory on the river shore,
where workers once canned tomatoes and corn,
welcomes lost refugees from civil wars
to worship prophet in the sycamore
who puppeteers the greedy president
with blighted angst of the treasonous clown.

With raucous prayer of the engine-beat heart
the holy savior of the plastic god
bestows foul blessings on blind followers
who follow him off the cliff of despair
when great empire of America falls
so Zarathia may rise from its ruins.

Evading divine light of the doubting heart,
I return to Garden of Eden at dawn
to find the origin of world empires
who fight against hegemony of power
till all cities transform into the flower
that blooms from absurdity of world fame.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…

Orpheus hosts the operatic tragedy at the Zarathian Performance Center for the Arts which presents the tale of the mad tyrant who destroyed America with his greed.

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