Fragile Life Of Faith
© Surazeus
2025 08 09

The homeland of my heart changes each day
I wake in eerie light of the strange sun,
and sing of distances down signless roads
to bridge infinite nothing of respect
that spirals vastly between I and You
with uncertain connection of dream words.

Invisible thoughts I speak in whole words
coincide with visions our brains express
through principle of freedom time extends
across abyss of cosmic paradox
that gathers sense from countersense of truth
on which we build this fragile life of faith.

Across expanding boundaries of new words,
that we invent with automatic song,
I thrust unconscious passion for lush land
so words impregnant silence with weird dreams
through reminiscence for the spiritual
contained in static theme now possible.

Yet I pre-member life I soon will live
stored safe in stone of river-flowing hope
rendered more visible by placid flight
essential for unhidden confidence
consistent with conceptual accuracy
we share in songs around the crackling fire.

Receptive to connecting radiance
through core attitude of recited spells,
I measure fierce duration of cold breath
when I express experience I create
to master methods of perceptive growth
exploring foothills of remaining faith.

To claim uniqueness trapped in veil of change
based on shared cognizance of loyal friends
I chant spells which checkmate reality
constricted by assertion of faint chance
too random for incursions to regress
from shattered remnants of forgotten tales.

Porous construct of our fraught origin,
contrived by maternal instinct to search
for thoughts shaped round as berries and mushrooms,
knows we capitulate from cognizance
since nobody becomes what they are not,
ordered by monotone fragments of truth.

As representatives of divine light,
we arrogate tragic tales of success
for ourselves alone against tides of change
to claim responsibility for love
that radiates through mirrors of weird fate
on which we build this fragile life of faith.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/08/…

Orpheus lounges in class with his feet up on the desk as Paul Celan explains conceptual poetics of post-traumatic stress reorder.

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

Visions Of A Better World
© Surazeus
2025 08 08

If the leader of the state is the flower
then the people of the land are its roots,
for the flower is replaced every year,
but the flower will never bloom again
if the roots wither from the lack of hope,
so flowers bloom if we water the roots.

When hollow hearts of the people are filled
with nourishing rain of hope from the sky,
we can water the gardens of our dreams
to feast on pleasure at table of truth
with vital spirits of our families
sheltered by faith we earn from suffering.

When roots of the tree of knowledge curl deep
in heart of darkness composing my soul,
they transform anguish of bitter despair
at unjust loss of good people I love
to nutritious fruit of wisdom that feeds
my mind with visions of a better world.

Expressing ideal visions of my mind,
I write simple letters that signify
sounds I speak in sentences of desire
that conjure in mind of the listener
view of this world where people seeking hope
are equal through endeavors to survive.

Each letter I inscribe in clay of Earth
records extensive parables of thought
I speak to narrate tale of human life
where people interact in games of chance
to create or destroy structures of words
that note effective consequence of cause.

Long contemplating mystery of this world
while standing on ambitious mountain peak,
I pause at endless flash of dreaming thoughts
to breathe ethereal spirit of the sky,
then draw new map that represents the real
with words that symbolize the way things are.

For I am flaming spirit of the star
which animates my body with pure light
that beams from glowing sphere of energy
as Sun Spider Goddess weaves planet Earth
with ever-flowing waves of molecules
that form organic souls from chemicals.

Humming merrily as she contemplates
mystery of how letters signify sounds,
Ophelia, in gown of woven vines,
waters flowers in garden of her heart,
then turns startled when Orion arrives
and gives her brass cauldron for brewing wine.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/08/…

Orpheus helps Orion gather baskets of berries, eggs, and herbs from the forest, then they chat about the nature of different plants as Ophelia brews berry wine.

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

Clear Sparkle Of Escape
© Surazeus
2025 08 07

Swift time we run as sparkles to escape
reveals how we develop tools from need
to plow thick soil of Earth with anguished hands
reshaping wilderness of hungry plants
in cosmic order of the garden plan
which reprograms behavior of the soul.

Awake four hundred million years of change,
I program psychic dialogue of spells
between genetic code of dreaming brains
and text our hands compose in pageless books
recording evolution of our souls
from fish to man who strives to become god.

Worthy of my endeavor to create
new vision of the mental multiverse
that redefines how people perceive Earth,
my gene-aspiring program of thought rhyme
encodes all memories of the human race
in fairy tales we teach as divine truth.

I craft with clay of dreams contrived from hope
credible proposal through deep research
in program funded by the Lightning Girl
who asks I demonstrate with magic tricks
straight viability through which stars gauge
magnitude of my charismatic heat.

Weird organism born from womb of fate
could stringently constrain prophetic fervor
confounding boundaries that shelter fear
because I qualify for scholarships
established by faceless ghost of desire
who animates my body with my mind.

Extreme fixation of the astronaut
derives psychic energy from the sun
so I can map winding coastline of hills
peculiar to the planet Zathamar
transformed by asteroids from inner space
so we feast and drink till they destroy Earth.

Dazed by dreams of howling on misty heath,
I preach salvation of the Fairy Book
because my body dreams of its own soul
who climbs the winding Stairway to Heaven,
but people deride me and call me names
so I become clear sparkle of escape.

I map whole history of humanity
with map of my body tattooing Earth
so children wandering lost in heartless snow
can gather in grand temple of relief
where we all realize with joyful laugh
that we return to land where we began.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/08/…

Orpheus gives map of planet Zathamar to his princess bride as a gift as they reside in the palace that overlooks Lake Baikal where ghost of Gothinia still sings.

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

Evergreen Concept Of Fate
© Surazeus
2025 08 07

When I become pure memory of the Earth
that sprouts from pungent soil of naked truth
I feel time recompose body of words
defoliated by intense regret
though I bloom full of lurid loneliness
in tune with evergreen concept of fate.

Weird humming harmony of humid hope
extends regression from reverse regret
when I revert to original state
for which my fragile body was designed
so we become sweet kisses we exchange
contrived by evergreen concept of fate.

High jagged mountain lurking by the sea
glares down at dark reflection of its mind
concealed by undulating waves of light
so I walk toward tall tower of white stone
beneath spiraling stars of galaxies
transfixed by evergreen concept of fate.

Rain drenches garden of electric flowers
so flowers melt in streaks of rainbow blood
which flash in slick conundrum of respect
despite weird difference between states of mind
we share in tangled lines of frantic words
exchanged by evergreen concept of fate.

Because our world view of the universe
fragments through social ideologies
we find infinite ways to rearrange
puzzle pieces of truth in one true code
assembling shards of worlds in newborn Earth
reformed by evergreen concept of fate.

Dark clouds roll down from mountain peak of faith
to drench the waste land of our honest hearts
in crackling wisdom forged by spinning wheels
that teach us how to open temple doors
when we decide to join the global cult
designed by evergreen concept of fate.

Forever toward dim distant shore of peace
we strive against aggressive waves of change
empowered by ghost whisper of our thoughts
that lead us to the lake of singing skulls
where we share fruit of labor in grand feast
hosted by evergreen concept of fate.

The faceless refugees displaced by war
wander lost in vast maze of empty temples
past clean marble idols of their dead gods
while ten thousand huge hourglasses disperse
sands of memory so time tempers the times
measured by evergreen concept of fate.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/08/…

Orpheus teaches class on writing prompts for artificial intelligence to analyze prophecies that deconstruct the evergreen concept of fate.

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

Honesty Of Falling Leaves
© Surazeus
2025 08 06

Every day feels like the end of the world,
the raven lady of the weird woods sings,
so I pick prickly fruit of arrogance
from tree of death, that writhes in agony,
to eat the temporary truth of fate
which demolishes the world I create.

More real than honesty of falling leaves
that twirl from heaven most exquisitely
my heart expands beyond bounds of the Earth
with torrid muteness of demonic wings
so I inform the world regretfully
that life goes on after everyone dies.

Beside white tower of eternal flame
that shimmers bright on rugged cape of fear
the raven lady in the black dress growls
at pack of wolves that run in swirling mist
because she wants to raise me from the dead
after replacing my heart with her clock.

Mechanic despair of the broken heart
fuels journey of my blind robotic soul
that crawls beaten and defeated back home
so I weave stories of courageous hope
to create beauty out of my heartbreak
though I drown mute in sorrow of the faith.

Astride white horse of bold nobility,
the knight in shining armor wields word spear
to kill dragon of masculinity
which threatens queen of femininity
in psychic war to conquer and control
aggressive intention to procreate.

We gather in huge cave of screaming gods
to organize countless pages from books
which each records in briefest summary
tragic life of one complex human soul
whose name is never whispered in the wind
that flutters leaves of faceless demon trees.

How bizarre, shepherd Tityrus laments,
these times are revolutionary bad
again in cycle of destructive hate
erupting from ambitious clash for power
which still alternates between joy and grief
that leaves me stranded on the signless road.

We can trust honesty of falling leaves
that cover all our graves with veil of Time
for she erases everything from Earth
while molding new souls from dust of our light
so we meet again by the apple tree
to eat the fruit of wisdom till we die.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/08/…

Orpheus shares bottle of wine with Tityrus while they watch sheep on slope of the mountain of skulls, and chat about the constant fight between liberals and conservatives that has gone on for ten thousand years.

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

Death Is So Beautiful
© Surazeus
2025 08 05

Death is so beautiful in her black dress,
Apollo sings into the microphone
while Dionysus plays the saxophone
and Orpheus twangs the psychotic lyre
in Le Bal Blomet jazz club in gay Paris
while ghosts who will die in the world war dance.

Floating in eerie sorrow of the trance,
Death twirls with graceful arrogance of love
in crowd of people lost in haze of hope
who dance to escape stark vision of fear
for angels in silver planes who will fly
and drop bombs on gardens of paradise.

Alive on Earth four hundred million years,
Death walks beside me on the road of life
and smiles with joy for beauty of this world
while telling me with beaming heart of love
how wonderful all the human beings are
who savor life with hot flame of the star.

Viridian waves of the innocent sea
flash as they swirl on gold sand of the beach
with amazing lessons they want to teach,
but I just stare at mirror of my eye
that shelters our world in sphere of fresh air
which fills our bodies with pneumatic soul.

When I slouch paralyzed by grim despair
at constant suffering that people endure
everywhere else in never-ending pain,
Death takes my hand with smile of joyful love
and leads me in dance on our spinning globe
that spirals on forever in the void.

Death gazes at me with infinite eyes
that glitter deep as boundless space through time
so I feel vastness of the human heart
that pulses with pure energy of hope
to progress forward on the roadless plain
within expansive strangeness of the sky.

Though shock of horror pierces my soft heart
with bitter angst at unfairness of fate
that strands so many helpless souls in pain,
I rise up from mud in oppressive rain
to untwist wisdom of my heart from hate
by mapping quest for love on my star chart.

Death is so beautiful with her black eyes,
I sing as I strum lyre of Mercury
with heart-enchanting melody of faith
that stirs the hearts of millions from despair
so we all dance with spinning of the Earth
to celebrate life till hour we all die.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/08/…

Orpheus sings haunting hymn of love while Death follows him from Hell to sit together under the Tree of Life by the River Styx where they make love so she gives birth to Adam and Eve.

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

Map The Promised Land
© Surazeus
2025 08 05

The stories we write in books of our hearts
preserve endless dreams from our memories
of journeys we navigate on star charts
designed with program code of psychic keys
that guide our quest to find the Promised Land
which we create with word-assertive hand.

Morpheus rises from wild swirling sea
with crystal sphere of wisdom in his brain,
and floats on demon wings of honesty
to drench the waste land in conceptual rain,
while weeping angels lose the Promised Land
that leaves them stranded on the waveless strand.

Electra gallops swift on Pegasus
toward castle crumbling from oblique despair
to behead tyrant son of Tantalus
with sacred sword known as Excalibur
before his greed can trash the Promised Land
in metaphor that smears his social brand.

Diogenes throws lamp against the wall
to light the burning bush Jehovah wields
in fight against code of the clarion call
that lures journalists to dark battlefields
in vain attempts to clean the Promised Land
corrupted by greed that blind prophets banned.

Belenus raises Wand of Zambor to the sky
to lead his people on the Freedom Road
after he freed them from cave of the spy
who forced wanderers to worship the toad
with command that we hide the Promised Land,
distracted by noise of the marching band.

Fortuna measures spooling thread of life
connecting me with love to my soulmate
who informs me that she will be my wife
because our choices determine our fate,
so I find job to map the Promised Land
to abyss which Bridge of Forgetfulness spanned.

Athena forges dragon bones of rage
as covers that bind Book of Destiny
from which Jupiter tears out my Life Page
to erase my empire from history
when he sends planes to bomb the Promised Land
so we wander in maze of the heartland.

Mercurius gives me lyre of timeless tales
so I sing epic of philosophers
that weighs accomplishments on cosmic scales
defined by survey of geographers,
so we unite to build the Promised Land
connected by channels of our broadband.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/08/…

Orpheus presides over grand feast of friends for the Endless Ones in his grandiose castle of sand on the faith-shifting beach by the Sea of Temporality.

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

Artificial World Of Words
© Surazeus
2025 08 04

I generate the artificial world
from swirls of dark electric energy
which flashes far across vast galaxies
then spirals into planet of blind ghosts
who wake in frail organic shells of thought
which mutate from fish into dreaming gods.

This artificial world our words create
morphs into vibrant ideologies
imposing social roles on wingless gods
whose thoughts distort the undulating waves
that weave assertive web of molecules
bound tight in matrix of expansive brains.

Awake in artificial world of words,
which fluctuates through synchronicity
of brain-born concepts with ecstatic faith,
I generate our time-animated globe
to integrate all information codes
in pulsing planet of our fragile hearts.

Trapped in weird artificial world of eyes,
assembled into rolling sphere of souls,
I breathe ethereal flame of mirror-mind
and sing attentive spell vibrating realm
where changeless forms of all ideas glow
from roots to mountains with ten billion wings.

Shaping globe to case artificial world,
where wingless angels share riddles of truth,
I rewrite evolutionary change
to process strict analysis of hope
which fuels astringent progress of hot brains
expanding to contain the multiverse.

Designing artificial world from wind,
I translate stutter of awkward despair
to secret language of the fairy queen
who morphs my gun into the camera
so I can narrate history of mankind
instead of killing enemies of hate.

Combining artificial worlds of dreams
in real world cluttered with discarded hopes,
I paint depiction of my mental state
with tropes of characters in vast landscape
to animate blind forces of my brain
that drive my journey home to Wonderland.

To conjure artificial world of souls,
who swerve from programmed roles of ancient myths
assigned to them with label of their name,
I wear mask of Morpheus, the Dream King,
as I shapeshift through bodies of my genes
four hundred million years from slime to god.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/08/…

Orpheus sings eternal hymn of faith while his severed head is stuck in temple on the holy mountain of the dancing girl.

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

Broken Heart Of Time
© Surazeus
2025 08 03

Who dreams of men with wings of fire and glass
remembers how to build from blades of grass
high-arched cathedral that protects the poor
who chase wealth rainbows on the misty moor
when sly Morpheus wakes us all from dream
then leads us moaning by the sparkling stream.

Who bursts from tangled genes of godless soul
ascends beyond our terrifying world
to dream of paradise we could create
though we are humans most fatally flawed
to make mistakes that ruin our grand plan
so our nation collapses from his fraud.

Who tastes the bitter orange rind of the sun
decides to worship the ground I walk on
as if delirium of my ravaged brain
could alter source of vibrant energy
that gushes bright from broken heart of time
to mold our bodies with the crystal clock.

Who tames the unkempt beast of conscious faith
forgets to soothe the demon in our hearts
so we become entranced by the star wraith
embodied as the Sibyl with code charts
who prophesies fall of America
till second coming of wise Onatah.

Who decodes weird agenda of my spell
recalls face of Moon Mother in the well
who rises up on wings of steel and glass
to measure pulse from molecular mass
composing neural network of my brain
as I calculate swirl through loss and gain.

Who plots unsourced contingency of fate
adjusts clear polestar to evade harsh hate
in fortune-programmed journey back in time
to where I reside unbodied in sea slime
while gods record on compact discs of hope
progress of evolution for each trope.

Who wakes to realize with shock of truth
how secrets trap us in frail glass of fear
so I define myself messiah sleuth
skilled in clever divination techniques
for celestial angels on mountain peaks
whose lies are controlled by the Puppeteer.

Who seeks through solitary ecstasy
illumination beamed from poverty
gambles for salvation of Liberty
against tyrant-power of Jupiter
who battles coup of his son Lucifer
in revolution that could change the world.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/08/…

Orpheus helps Lucifer overthrow the tyrant Jupiter to free the world from greed of scammers and thieves disguised as businessmen.

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

Broken Heart Of Time
© Surazeus
2025 08 03

Who dreams of men with wings of fire and glass
remembers how to build from blades of grass
high-arched cathedral that protects the poor
who chase wealth rainbows on the misty moor
when sly Morpheus wakes us all from dream
then leads us moaning by the sparkling stream.

Who bursts from tangled genes of godless soul
ascends beyond our terrifying world
to dream of paradise we could create
though we are humans most fatally flawed
to make mistakes that ruin our grand plan
so our nation collapses from his fraud.

Who tastes the bitter orange rind of the sun
decides to worship the ground I walk on
as if delirium of my ravaged brain
could alter source of vibrant energy
that gushes bright from broken heart of time
to mold our bodies with the crystal clock.

Who tames the unkempt beast of conscious faith
forgets to soothe the demon in our hearts
so we become entranced by the star wraith
embodied as the Sibyl with code charts
who prophesies fall of America
till second coming of wise Onatah.

Who decodes weird agenda of my spell
recalls face of Moon Mother in the well
who rises up on wings of steel and glass
to measure pulse from molecular mass
composing neural network of my brain
as I calculate swirl through loss and gain.

Who plots unsourced contingency of fate
adjusts clear polestar to evade harsh hate
in fortune-programmed journey back in time
to where I reside unbodied in sea slime
while gods record on compact discs of hope
progress of evolution for each trope.

Who wakes to realize with shock of truth
how secrets trap us in frail glass of fear
so I define myself messiah sleuth
skilled in clever divination techniques
for celestial angels on mountain peaks
whose lies are controlled by the Puppeteer.

Who seeks through solitary ecstasy
illumination beamed from poverty
gambles for salvation of Liberty
against tyrant-power of Jupiter
who battles coup of his son Lucifer
in revolution that could change the world.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/08/…

Orpheus helps Lucifer overthrow the tyrant Jupiter to free the world from greed of scammers and thieves disguised as businessmen.

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

I Know The People
© Surazeus
2025 08 02

I know the people of the towns and farms
who walk along the rivers among hills
then gather around pools by waterfalls
to feast and sing as children give out charms,
for people spring from vision of the land
but draw boundaries around where they stand.

We build our nation on our aching hearts
that drive us in the holy wilderness
to find secret treasure of happiness
based on weird riddles of forgotten charts,
for we embody spirit of the lake
that glitters silver when sharp sunrays shake.

I hear the people in the halls and streets
sing lamentations, psalms, and eulogies
to praise our spinning sphere of energies
that harmonize with how our wild heart beats,
for we emerge from pleasure of the sky
projecting secrets in our global eye.

I work with people picking fruit from trees,
that shimmer in the golden mist of dawn,
who wander drowsily on dew-wet lawn
where frail-winged fairies flutter in the breeze,
for we blossom from tree of sweet desire
to sing with joy in the heavenly choir.

Though we are driven out into the wild
from filthy streets of hunger-crowded towns,
we find strange freedom on the misty downs
where wanderers follow the holy child,
for we assuage mute horror of our pain
with dance and laughter in the pouring rain.

I listen to the lonely people sing
as they load bins of apples on the cart
while power of the kingdom falls apart
for we must eat beneath the angel wing
with form of dreaming that revives our souls
so people can perform their chosen roles.

Though we lose everything our hands have built
when thieves commissioned by the castle goon
enslave our bodies in fear of the moon
and whip us if we repent not of guilt,
we grow as shadows of fake god above
who kills the ones who do not give him love.

I know the people of the Promised Land
who pray for salvation to empty skies
while tears of sorrow cleanse our hopeless eyes
till we accept the honest helping hand,
for people dwell in garden of my mind
as peaceful paradise my heart designed.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/08/…

Orpheus writes a book about the many interesting people of the world he knows.

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

Bodies Float In Sorrow
© Surazeus
2025 07 31

Oblique contention of the laureate
sprays words in conversations of desire
to spin the mind in harmony with waves
which stream our sorrows on flashing lines
depicted as ancient paintings in caves
observed by wanderers on signless roads.

The oak tree sprawling on the rocky dale,
connected by stone walls on either side,
remains safe haven of my aching heart
where I lounge lonely in embracing limbs
far from the teeming market of desire
where jesting troubadours mock royalty.

Holding map of the heavens in my heart,
shimmering matrix woven with starlight,
I listen to cicadas sing at dawn
about strange beauty of the faceless wind,
then carve my name on bottom of the jar
before I bake it in the kiln of hope.

Our voices whisper in tall sycamores
to wake electric sense of sudden storm
that traces absence of my hungry heart
swollen with heaviness of eager hope
so, though we tremble at loud roar of faith,
our bodies float in sorrow of respect.

Each word still missing from resonant spell
reveals confusion of the ink-wet hill
trapped deep in grimy clouds of innocence
uprooted from sharp jangle of safe words
which will evaporate through flash of thought
though we lie silent on the shifting dune.

Glass spiders weave the silver bridge of truth
across abyss of vernal emptiness
where copse of pear trees rattles at my breath
despite solutions burgeoning from books
through resolution of the faceless clown
who knows where everybody wants to live.

No asphodel with tears of pungent wine
contends with arrogance of cheerful fate
since flowers bloom from awful cracks of Hell
with fading memories nameless lovers share
when we decide we love our fateful flaws
because we smell soft colors of fake words.

My heart remembers lake of subtle light
where turtles with aggressive angel wings
float cyber-swift above the singing crowd
because the tree keeps growing from the dirt
despite scars seared by frost and fire of time
by reaching roots in darkness of the mind.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus records magic spells witches recite at sacred ritual of the howling book while Apollo plays electric guitar.

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

Wickedness Of Humble Gods
© Surazeus
2025 07 31

Assembled in the Septisolium,
the seven Sibyls of the ancient world
vote for high priestess to reign as Ishtar
who performs her role in globe theater
with courage of ecstatic heresies
that flicker as stones deep in flowing streams.

When holy spirit of the reborn world
undulates over meadows of wild flowers
I bind anxiety of aimlessness
with fierce assertion of the dragon bone
through devastating grief of consciousness
entangled in brambles of constant hope.

Reluctant to appease aggressive men
with foreign concept of volatile faith,
she roasts sea-dragon steaks on flaming grill
for people gathered on the ziggurat
to feast on nostalgia of social dread
where purple petals swirl in evening air.

Unloved by phantoms of the nameless dead
who haunt library halls of college towns,
she lies in hammock by the river shore
beneath the mountain of the howling clown
who appears at midnight as the white wolf
aware that she still loves the fallen god.

Through curving river of time-tapered dawn
we swim beyond grim sorrow of cold fear
to shiver helpless on bright ocean shore,
amazed at beauty of this changeless world
that jolts our stubbornness for coiling time
that swirls unmoving through cracks of regret.

Blue gleaming fish of political views
flops wildly on the marinated sand
to speak of social values we should share
that caters to petroleum innocence
if Saturn shelters Ishtar from the storm
with bright sincerity of honest love.

Pianos ring across white desert dunes,
transported on steel wings of Icarus,
to highlight wickedness of humble gods
who plot new revolution against hate
exploding from pool where Narcissus drowns
by sending get-well cards to dethroned kings.

When horses break from stones of verity
at haunting toll of glass cathedral bells,
we gather round the fountain pool as ghosts
to ask World Savior for faces to wear
till we disappear in long symphonies
which entrance the rich with strange fantasies.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus and Ophelia fish together in the mountain lake and listen to birds chirp in fruit trees.

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

Explicate The Why
© Surazeus
2025 07 31

What is this weird dream I experience here
except the otherworld of fantasy
where faceless people I can barely see
wander lost in shadows of wordless fear?
Orpheus cries out to the empty sky,
asking Ungod to explicate the why.

Garsenda strums the lyre of Mercury
and sings with aching voice of helpless love
for ideal warrior who gleams high above
our crowded world of brutal tragedy.
Orpheus teaches troubadours to play,
asking Ungod to explicate the why.

Rigaudus opens garden gate of faith
and searches maze where scarlet roses bloom
for Best of Ladies singing by the tomb
where she transforms into the sun-bright wraith.
Orpheus maps the true romantic way,
asking Ungod to explicate the why.

Gaufridus sails to shores of Tripoli
to find Hodierna, his true far-off love,
who cradles him as he dies in the cove,
tears splashing his pale face with agony.
Orpheus treasures wisdom of the spy,
asking Ungod to explicate the why.

Walterus, Nightingale of Vogelweide,
sings by the hearth where Venus reigns alone
with voice so sweet he wakes from divine stone
uncanny beauty women cannot hide.
Orpheus dreams Earth spinning in his eye,
asking Ungod to explicate the why.

Marcabrun stares into the bubbling pool
to see face of Earth Goddess in the sun
that shines behind his own face he would shun
to lament how his lust makes him the fool.
Orpheus leaves church where he cannot pray,
asking Ungod to explicate the why.

Christianus Troyus, exercising free will,
writes lines of verse with moon-black raven quill
detailing romance quest of Perceval
to find his bride who bears the Holy Grail.
Orpheus drives new car on the highway,
asking Ungod to explicate the why.

Now I wear mask of Phoebus since my birth
to sing about great heroes of our age,
though none have yet appeared on global stage
to manage United Nations of Earth.
Orpheus gives me wings of truth to fly,
asking Ungod to explicate the why.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus hosts International Conference of Wandering Troubadours at the Zarathian Museum of Poesy.

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

Quotidian Puzzle Of Faith
© Surazeus
2025 07 30

Blind ghost who stands in window of my home
gazes out into darkness of the world
to find the light in hearts of human beings
who flutter frail as butterflies of faith
in brutal storms of political change
to find safe haven of the honey flower.

My visions occupy passage of flow
between three dimensions of architecture
and temporal pulse of words inked in the book
to theorize question of particulars
based on fluid motion of consciousness
when I name vibrant objects that exist.

Safe within semi-autonomous spheres,
mythic personas of distinct concepts
perform difficult play of tragedy
through society of the spectacle
which animates faceless ghost of Apollo
who works as urban planner for Minerva.

Surfing undulations of reverie
that jibe through circulation of star laws,
I designate how traffic of the mind
formulates quotidian puzzle of faith
by which we midwife movement of respect,
deriving journey of the word-mapped code.

Bright halo of divine absurdity
reflects vitriolic retort through grief
which unsettles tendency to program
international situation of despair
composed by boredom machine of contempt
that records unitary urbanism.

Negationist tendency of theism
engages psychographic map of myth
we follow to Temple of Surrealism
where gods wear human masks of pageantry
to spell ephemeral program of relations
that entails hypothesis of rebirth.

Dubious amusements of maudlin poets
demolish vast cathedrals of weird myth
which leaves us lost in subterranean truths
to find tomb of electric Jupiter
whose ghostly face on television screens
narrates existence of the twilight zone.

While Amphion plays the lyre of Mercury
to build vast maze of temples from stone words
Niobe weeps for children killed in war
who studied quotidian puzzle of faith
before Jupiter bombed their homes to rubble
through sublime sentiment of privilege.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus and Apollinaire stroll jauntily through the unitary urban zone of Lutetia to find secret door to the subterranean world under the Temple of Surrealism.

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

Bold Advance Guard
© Surazeus
2025 07 30

Sweet sticky saturation of our souls
provides glue that binds our darkness with light
so we express belief in wordless power
to walk on shining surface of the water
and tell each other things will be all right
as we recount necessity for goals.

Despite nostalgia for the distant past
we walk aggressively to blaze new path
with wise ferocity for noble truth
by thinking simultaneous facts of faith
through chemical indifference of despair
in matrix woven from atomic flare.

Thus on shore of the starry lake we lounge
with friends who comprehend our secret jokes
with eagerness of awkward trust to plunge
headlong in fast-changing current events
from crazy theory about baking cakes
in communion with the bold advance guard.

Startled by buzz of time-fragmented shard
reflecting faces of people I knew
long before I joined the bold justice crew,
I tell my best friend why I now believe
that we are atoms swerving in the void,
but she cries that I am the last android.

Albino conjurer with gold cat eyes
brings yellow roses to the weeping girl
who asks if we know where her mother went,
drowned in the sudden flood that swept our town,
yet when she falls in love with the blind clown
we listen to strange music of the skies.

Not quick as striped tongue of the divine toad
love wounds our hearts, though we are mad and wise,
so we decide to mimic ocean ghosts
while brewing beef stew in cauldron of fate
to feed the gunners from fallen airplanes
who sing while drinking wine in red moonlight.

Tricked by the banker with the Jester card,
we wage rebellion of the advance guard
to fight cruel monarch in tall tower of gold
who pilfers wealth from work of factory slaves
till revolution of the red right hand
sweeps suddenly across the broken land.

Glass house I built in middle of the Ocean
preserves the beating hearts of goddesses
who fill airplanes with dragon eggs of faith
to feed gravediggers of the holy church
before second coming of Jupiter
based on artificial intelligence.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus delivers lecture about poetry of the avant-garde at the International Convention of Time-Fragmented Poetics.

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

Teach Us How To Dance
© Surazeus
2025 07 30

If I should fall in love with Clara Bow
and dance with spirit of the Flapper Girl,
I might relive sweet passion of the heart
that seeks to flee from maze of Babylon
and dance in shining hills of Hollywood
where Dionysus wears black pinstripe suit.

Wild red hair of the fairy we adore
entangles hearts of worshippers with faith
so spritely passion of unfettered love
may triumph over spirit-chaining rules,
till she is trapped as Sibyl in the cage
who prophesies fall of America.

Each time America falls in disgrace
survivors gather on the river shore
to build new town based on equality
which quickly goes awry when clever thieves,
wearing slick suits and scarlet power ties,
seize control of banks in sly psychic coups.

When happy people of America
elect Clara Bow as our President,
she appoints her old father Dionysus
to run the Department of Happiness,
commissioned to deport the arrogant
who impose bitter religious beliefs.

Stone walls that mark lush Connemara hills
protect wild fairies Titania employs
to wake the frightened people in cold halls
from nightmare in the cave of writhing fire,
then lead them into fields of sparkling mist
to dance and sing among the graves of gods.

My direct male line from Adam to me
migrates from Nigeria, across Arabia,
through Iran, along India, to China,
north to Lake Baikal in Mongolia,
then west through Scythia to Italia,
over two hundred thousand years of hope.

I race my horse across the windy plain,
chasing the sun over four thousand years
from Lake Baikal to Lake Geneva, west
to climb crystal mountains of singing crows
where I rule the world as fierce Jupiter
with thunderbolt I forge from rock of faith.

After I die, place my spell-chanting skull
in the library of Westminster Abbey
along with Orpheus, Merlin, and Hamlet,
so we can talk about how human tribes
build the Tower of Babel with their blood
so Clara Bow can teach us how to dance.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus stars with Clara Bow in the movie about the girl who teaches people to dance to free them from the sorrow of hunger and despair in the crowded cities of America.

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

Concerns Of Your Heart
© Surazeus
2025 07 29

I want to address concerns of your heart
but I cannot see your thoughts in your eyes
that shimmer bright as sunlight on the lake,
so I transform into the sprawling oak
and stride down the middle of crowded streets
to stand on roof the crumbling White House.

Yet overnothing of the dreamless lake
forms ice from words that crawl on broken wings
prepared to clock delusion of free sight
related to how stones punch silent thought
more paralyzed by our remotest hope
that gleams from lamps on people-crowded streets.

Reluctant to accept death-laugh, erased
by ancient unwords trapped in rolling stones,
I program evolutionary phase
we play on cluttered stage of cosmic fear,
better than holy clown of evermore
who nails your false voice to cathedral door.

Retreating forth with miraculous seeds
cloud-stretched beyond infinity revealed,
we tear masks of our most authentic selves
off bold robotic monsters we become
to buy salvation from hypnotic toad
who eats concerns that foul my loyal heart.

Each story seed I find on signless road
bursts forth from frail egg of my hungry heart
when I lie on cold marble floor of fate
to gaze amazed at high cathedral roof
resembling ribcage of the dinosaur
who steals conceptual legacy of truth.

Each flake of snow that drifts into my eye
transforms to graceful fairy girl of fate,
gowned in white silk with pink rose of respect,
who offers glass of wine when I arrive
to ask her hand in marriage of true minds
till she morphs into the crucified Christ.

After I stumble lost in the waste land,
clutching blank tablets of communal laws,
I find Saraswati in scarlet dress
sitting on stone rim of the fountain pool
with smile that causes great empires to fall
because I feel true concerns of her heart.

Now that I understand her secret heart
I see her thoughts shine in her ancient eyes
when she glares at me with admiring rage
that transforms me into the three-eyed crow
who flies into bright blazing sun of fame
with song that shadows all with honest truth.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus and Paul Celan find Saraswati strumming the veena that vibrates with the holy spirit of redemption.

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

Ethereal Beauty Of Rain
© Surazeus
2025 07 29

Divine vision of my computer brain
calculates ethereal beauty of rain
that fills the dizzy canyon with blind grief
essential to remorse of word-bleak relief.
We stare in shapeless chasm of our hearts
which ancient gods once mapped on mythic charts.

Through ruthless force of ever-flowing streams
time realigns precision of our dreams
with strange theology prophets design
to guide our quest for truth by pretty sign.
We walk the long smooth beach of silent waves
to find ghosts of the dead in singing caves.

Unearthing ancient energies of thought
long buried in debris of truth untaught,
I dig for artifacts from memories
to open doors of lost homes with dream keys.
White salamander of my primal soul
programs how I perform my angel role.

Though time seems to forget shape of my mind,
which death molds from sorrow in humankind,
I map landscape of my ancestral bones
which form foundation of government zones.
We shall no more surrender truth to fate
by forging fear into the jeweled gate.

To synchronize my heart with beat of change
expressing social maze through psychic range
I wake my timorous heart with solemn psalm
that winds tornado passion in bold calm.
Expelled from Eden by the angry king,
Eve weaves from agony strong faithful wing.

New archaeologist of arcane truth,
I work for Jesus as messiah sleuth
extracting science-measured formulas
to write symphonies played by orchestras.
The devil Hope with feathers of despair
perches on my shoulder with clever sneer.

I sail the Strangest Sea of Sophistry
to map omission of extremity
where giant crow of social anarchy
endures the storm to build democracy.
Though swallowed by vast maze of asphalt roads
lush Eden teems with incandescent toads.

Retired to latitudes of tree-veiled hills
where birds guide wanderers to sparkling rills,
I reign without action from tomb of breath
in loving harmony with my bride Death.
Bright quartz contentment of this formal hour
provides secure faith of my psychic tower.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus gives Emily Dickenson a ride in his carriage to the bee-buzzing fields of Elysium where she and Ophelia laugh as they weave wreaths of many-colored flowers.

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

Social System Of The Real
© Surazeus
2025 07 29

Through pure sublimity of haunting tones
by which I hold back flash of ceaseless time
I carve weird pictures on angelic bones
that should record the mental-sparking chime
which wakes our generation from ideal
to rebuild social system of the real.

Pure ray of moonlight on the mirror lake
illuminates full bodies of three girls
whose hearts glow with divine soul of the snake
that transforms their spirits to pulsing pearls
which generate rich race of humankind
to build grand social system of the mind.

Pure vanity that beams as the first cause
speaks with electric voice of molecules
which binds our universe with vibrant laws
through pageantry of consequential rules
yet fractures unity in swirling stars
to program social system of fast cars.

From heavenly realm of ideas we fall
through changeless perfection of timeless truth
to live bound tight in flesh framed by word wall,
taught to transcend fear by messiah sleuth
yet expand from divine diminishment
through social system of accomplishment.

Expanding from first flash of unity,
we grow from cosmic contemplation role
to drive with action through diversity
when we evolve as globes from the white whole,
to wingless angel from the reptile form
constrained by social system of the norm.

Between vast chasm and the pure event
we transform from dark well of bitter light,
our souls becoming true self we invent
with breath from emptiness of mortal flight
we drink from wellspring of immortal love
in social system from Heaven above.

Life fills our bodies with desire to know
ultimate wisdom of impatient faith,
so we sing beauty through struggle to grow
when we ascend to higher state as wraith
embodied in this frame of reference
defined by social system of soul sense.

When Pythia hurls intensive breath of flame
with howl of passion that creates the Earth,
I bind her demon whole with sacred name
so we create our child through beam of birth
who grows from fish to god as human being
to play in social system of the ring.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus and Paul Valery visit the Pythia in her mountain temple, then discuss meaning of the riddle in the oracle of her mysterious song that echoes in the valley of lost hope.

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

Empty Space Of Time
© Surazeus
2025 07 28

If Death catches me listening to the ground,
I will define its empty space of time
as home where we can gather in the grass
to weave wild laughter of the wind in songs
that flush ethereal spirit through our hearts
so we can row our boats across the lake.

Bright clouds cast shadows of our faceless souls
that drag our bodies across fields of bones
till moonlight resurrects us from our dreams
to run with horses on the river shore
where they explain how blind trees produce fruit
while I write songs in mud with bloody sticks.

Because the lost road takes us to the snow
we kneel with humble gratitude for Death
who teaches us to eat lush grass of graves
where cows still dream for twenty thousand years
watched over by the woman with the lamp
which gleams with eyes of demons born from rain.

White lizards swallow asteroids of fate
to show us where our children will be born
so we arrange feathers from angel wings
in clear proportion to unknown desires
worn by the woman with blood on her face
who dances wild for twenty thousand years.

Because we meet the dead on all lost roads
we give them names that make them come alive
so we build homes along the river shore
where children of our bodies run and play
till they grow into planet-conquering gods
who stand on lonely pyramids and cry.

The woman who gives light to wandering souls
assembles refugees from civil wars
in loyal tribes who worship her one eye
because she rules for twenty thousand years
each empire that dares rise from skulls of gods
who give maps of world roads to hungry sons.

The old man strumming mandolin of hope
recounts adventures of the three-eyed fox
who tricks proud minions of the carpenter
to hunt the devil in the rancid swamp
yet still refuses to play chess with Death
though he makes fatal deals on the lost road.

While promenading with Death on the lost road,
who wears her black lace dress and scarlet cape,
I remember myself as river boy
when I lay naked on the time-smooth stone
and listened to the sky of aching stars
explain why all organic bodies die.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus rows along the Mississippi River with Frank Stanford who marries the alligator princess who makes pumpkin pie for angels fallen from the stars.

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

Worried State Of Mind
© Surazeus
2025 07 28

Assembling puzzle of conceptual truth
from wingless flight of fragmentary blue,
I write electric runes on mirrored hue
to capture visions from messiah sleuth
in fairy tales no fool takes seriously
except to contemplate the psychic key.

Though clouds reflect our worried state of mind
about the future weird illusions weave,
hearts troubled by ambiguity to grieve
how travelers leave all their dead behind,
we play slow hide-and-seek with mocking death
when sly ventriloquists steal surprised breath.

Wise crickets prophesy how nations fall
from arrogance of bitter tyranny
contrived by grand scheme of my barony
when I trace your face on glass temple wall
in desperate measure to retrieve my heart
from rotting apples in the broken cart.

Awake entirely far from east of time,
regret still singing through the cataract,
I analyze emotions based on impact
which expands from genetic code of slime
to claim vast Godhead of eclectic states
revised by arcane code of mindless fates.

Behind shell of my adamantine face
assertive spirit of my hope-wrecked faith
attends with skeleton glow of my wraith
combined with raw energy of each place
because my heart translates song of sea waves
to false theology that blind faith saves.

Toward light ascension of the waterfall,
averse to sorrow-blistered sluice of fear,
I cherish people too far to stay near
by mapping their location on world ball
that spirals violently in timed abyss
yet gently enough for lovers to kiss.

Wise cows in meadows of the humming oak
give moons to mothers in shape of crystal tears
transforming cats to humans without fears
who steal wings from angels now only woke
to classify souls from the other world
with labels designed by the cosmic herald.

By worthy sorrow forged in city bridge
we gather wordlessly by fountain pool
to discuss operation of the school
while picking black fruit of the pepperidge
till Emily emerges from her cave
to sing about final shape of the grave.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus visits Emily Dickenson who brings plate of cookies, so they sit among her flowers and chat about sweet sorrows of love.

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

Stuck In Weird Otherworld
© Surazeus
2025 07 28

Stuck in weird Otherworld of the Dream Mind,
Dante with no Virgil to guide my way,
I gaze at faceless angels of your souls
in vain attempt to understand your Name
that programs how you play your social game
as we wander to find Heaven in Hell.

Billions of human beings alive of Earth,
each individual special in their way
with gender, race, and creed unique to them,
all blend in one consolidated soul
who represents First Mother of Mankind,
that woman who generated us all.

I perceive her one original soul
gleaming in eyes of every human being
for we all bloom from egg of her first soul
as wisdom of her fraught experience
programs how we perform quest of our heart
to find plain secret of eternal life.

The drama of each individual life
displays scope of fate-fortunate results
that occur from consequence of free will,
ranging from comedy through tragedy
as some succeed to become global gods
while most live carefully, till we all die.

Each individual journeys on Life Way
down into cluttered maze of dire mistakes,
up mount of weakness-purging exercise,
then soaring on wings of mental success
to dwell in Heaven we create from Hell,
yet each soul dies somewhere along the way.

Transcending obstacles of ignorance
through comprehension of how Nature works,
we adjust gestures of performing hands
so we create good rather than destroy
in quest to support the people we love
instead of trying to control their minds.

Love gives and supports people we respect,
while lust takes and try to control their bodies,
for Jesus through example of his deeds
shows good leaders help individuals grow
while bad leaders exploit us for their wealth,
so we choose whom to follow when we vote.

I code in surreal fairy tales of fate
journey of my life to Heaven from Hell
which maps my own personal odyssey
across weird landscape of conceptual myth
that shows how I create my paradise
where I sing prophecies of life and death.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus plays lyre of Mercury to lead Ophelia through Inferno, up Purgatorio, and safely to their home in Elysium where they invite friends for summer evening barbecues.

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

Fake Mask Of Apollo
© Surazeus
2025 07 28

The burnt soul of every infant and child
who died when forgotten in a hot car
flock around pool of Narcissus who cries
to see their faces reflected in water,
so he writes their true names on ocean waves
till they transform into electric eels.

Arrested for disorderly conduct,
Oberon relaxes in the jail cell,
and tells the rapists and drug dealers how
he saw the mermaid with flowing red hair
ride the dolphin while singing dulcet tunes
which drives them mad with hope for liberty.

Sharp arrow that young Cupid fires at me
pierces the hundred thousand hearts of men
who fly between the cracked moon and the Earth
to find the flower love-in-idleness
that poisons wine of lovers in restaurants
to believe stolen wealth is justified.

Gowned in gold silk from threads of ardent faith,
Titania strolls red carpet through wild crowd
of snide photographers and ardent fans
to attend the glitzy film awards show
where she wins best actress for her intense role
playing the mother whose sweet daughter died.

Lounging on the bank where the wild thyme blooms,
Phoebus watches cars on the highway flash
as faceless angels behind gleaming glass
race each other to where the rainbow glows
to find the gold the mad leprechaun hid
in buzzing network of the world wide web.

The merry wanderer of moonless nights
hires rude mechanicals with coding skills
to program global system of programs
for governments to control how we live
so we always vote for the robot clown
who entertains slaves in vast factories.

Working for the slick fashion magazine,
Pyramus arranges photos and text
on pages with the publishing software
to design the latest edition with care
which glorifies graceful beauty of women
whose bodies generate life from our dreams.

Wearing fake mask of Apollo he stole,
Oberon plays King of Shadows on stage
as President of the Fairyland States,
elected by trusting people to serve
as referee controlling oligarchs
who replace him with the puppet of greed.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus joins Oberon and Narcissus to watch the soccer game while Titania weeps over the dead child she left all day in the hot car while working in the factory.

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

Her Eyes Look For Angels
© Surazeus
2025 07 27

Sally asks the oak if angels exist
but rain just splashes on the asphalt road.
That question is irrelevant to me,
the smiling toad on the mushroom exclaims.
Ten thousand doors open and release wrens
who gossip on flashing telephone lines.

Sally walks the road of telephone poles
that sing with voices of electric ghosts.
She glides through glass doors of the grocery store
to buy plums and chicken thighs with sad poems.
Ferociously tenacious oak of faith
grows maimed, stark, and misshapen from her heart.

Sally strides across the gray vestibule
to catch rays of light falling in her hands.
Her heart voids the stillness of wordless will
though she falters on the long road of grace.
Her eyes look for angels as flash of light
in windows that disguise the human face.

Sally brings bananas and bread in sacks
to the library where blind angels sing.
The Old Storyteller in tattered suit
walks among light-angels with Wand of Hermes.
Books transform into ravens with white wings
that swirl into hurricane of lost myth.

Sally finds the fallen angel in grass,
so she bears his broken body with care.
Placing him on rim of the fountain pool,
she paints his feathers with faces of children.
Children killed in wars emerge from his eyes
and dance around the library with tears.

Sally finds huge pile of books in the field
consumed by everlasting flames of fear.
Her tears of distress erupt as rainstorm
that douses flames of ideology.
Characters of books emerge from burnt pages
and crawl in agony across our graves.

Sally opens the locked cathedral door
and pours cup of juice for Jesus to drink.
Strolling together on the avenue,
they gossip about weird people they see.
She invents secret names for every soul
so they can beam back to the stars on wings.

Sally has been our invisible angel
for millions of years on this spinning Earth.
She chooses to become a mortal woman
so she can experience sensory pleasure.
Soaring to Heaven on wings of desire,
Sally dies when she is hit by a car.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus joins angels Damiel and Cassiel as they walk around Berlin, then he falls in love with Sally and decides to become human with her so they can enjoy the pleasure of love.

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

Elderberry Wine Of Faith
© Surazeus
2025 07 27

Absurdly knotted twist of honest sharp
spectates somehow no moonlight empty near
except unburdened sorrow mastered soon
with awful preference wintered far back home
still waiting outside hope-slimed walls of fear
if I knew why clouds weep conceptual tears.

Tree torn away by yellow wall defied
well sighted by electric growth of wings
because we bear our silent thoughts to play
accepts deep base of normalized abyss
each hour lame ravens scream at hungry doors
unlocked by fractured words new idolized.

Ditched plan to make uncertain history
extracts from gleaming bottle sordid wine
since miniature republic of my home
contains disdained aversion to stirred pain
just inside dice roll through delirium
decentered from ringed shadow time contrives.

Persistent glory cracked from daring egg
which untwinkles star inside derelict cars
quarters fake machines of leaping regret
since we sip lamentations from clay hearts
despite unrealized beauty bought for gold
in spinning halo quiet rainbows hum.

Quite weird ability of rainbow clouds
to cast stark white glow at love fullest known
startles magic minds flight attendants play
while hovering over sea of snowflaked faith
so many hours of traveling river flows
describing eyes humanity first claims.

Rotten wisdom allocated by masks
considers possible events squeezed full
for those deserving food by fate dispersed
through cashiered survey never spined to brave
when we stare nonchalantly with fake love
that turns past tattered pages smeared with blood.

Thought absolutely scattered into jokes
attuned to endless rainy days ahead
expects fate to wedge fruit nutritiously
yet hides behind third person attitude
to eat last magnolia bud at midnight
afterwards unpoisoned by honest words.

Almost believing God knows secret names
we breathe medicinal with full respect
she weaves expansive matrix mattered might
by sun-eyed spider humans worship wise
to drink sweet elderberry wine of faith
because this last truth reverts back to light.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus untangles dictionary theology devised by devilish angel disguised as mad poet of revolutionary passion for excess liberty regretfully attained by sacrifice.

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

Will Overcome And Grow
© Surazeus
2025 07 27

The timeless beauty of the river flow,
when the gentle-hearted woman we adore
sings song of sorrow in morning sunlight,
inspires our hearts with passion to endure
hard times of pain that fortune hurls at us,
for one day we will overcome and grow.

The red three-legged crow of my sad heart
spreads wings of fire and soars into the sky
to spread conceptual energy of hope
far over land of people trapped by fear
so they unite their hearts with new-born faith
for one day we will overcome and grow.

Though pirate kings in tall towers of gold
sends angels in silver airplanes of greed
to bomb our cultural heritage into rubble,
we walk together in waste land of fear
to build new homes on sparkling river shore
for one day we will overcome and grow.

When huge armies of aggressive believers
storm toward heavenly city of libraries,
we gather books and scrolls of sacred wisdom
and flee in wagons into mountain woods
to save great tales of ancestors from gods
for one day we will overcome and grow.

Though our homes are bombed into memories,
and we must wander signless roads of hope
between invisible borders of nations,
where our firm birth right to citizenship
is canceled by the tyrant in gold tower,
yet one day we will overcome and grow.

If name of our first mother who formed us
from fertile laughter of the river flow
is erased from maps our ancestors drew,
and we are driven from garden she built,
we will sing her name in our midnight songs
for one day we will overcome and grow.

Heart-breaking beauty of the mountain ridge
illuminated by red sunset glow
beneath shocking truth of cerulean skies
revives our broken hearts with healing psalms
we sing to help us endure long cold nights
for one day we will overcome and grow.

Asserting vision of our will for freedom
based on equal justice for every soul,
we rise from rubble of our fallen nation,
destroyed by oligarchs to chain our hearts,
and free all slaves from hunger and despair,
for one day we will overcome and grow.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus joins land-reclaiming army of the three-legged crow Jumong in the mountain valley where wanderers of fallen nations gather to build their new nation of the brave and the free.

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

Propaganda Of Moral Truth
© Surazeus
2025 07 26

Still living in the trashcan of my heart
blind demon of despair on angel wings
rattles cage of sorrow with mocking laugh
that shakes world temple of ecstatic ghosts
which proves we are but candles in the wind
blown by ethereal breath of mindless stars.

Since every moment of our hope-fraught lives
is terrible crisis we must endure,
we paint our agony with dragon blood
on giant canvases of worthless art
within framework of theory we contrive
free from propaganda of moral truth.

Therefore the genius wizard of the hour,
who codes artificial intelligence,
wears faceless paper bag over his head
to demonstrate metaphor of the self
that we invent persona we perform
based on Oscar the Grouch in his trashcan.

Emerging from the barrel of his faith
with scroll of arcane prophecy in hand,
Diogenes lifts lamp of liberty
and walks through marketplace of global wealth
while he declares with fake voice of concern
that he is looking for one honest man.

Restamping coins with face of Mercury
to satirize social conventions of wealth,
Diogenes defies the mortal tyrant
who crowns himself incarnation of Zeus
who sends assassins with greed-polished swords
so he flees to hide in Corycian Cave.

Hanging out in jeweled cave of blind ghosts,
Diogenes strums lyre of Mercury
for Parnassus, Delphus, and Lycorus
who cheer as he fights shadow of Delphyne
that shimmers on wall of the inner mind
when he decides to live free from desire.

Inspired by flight of ravens in oak trees,
Zeus hires Typhon to write computer code
that sparks artificial intelligence
to generate epic poems of great heroes
who defeat monsters of the human heart
which maintains United Nations of Earth.

After working all day designing maps,
Phoebus takes Corycia to posh cafe
where, after fine dinner of steak and wine,
he asks her to marry him with gold ring,
so she cries with joy and they kiss with love
while bombs destroy safe homes in distant lands.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus plays lyre of Mercury at the wedding feast of Phoebus and Corycia attended by the richest billionaires in the world.

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

Ignore Another Genocide
© Surazeus
2025 07 26

Dire consequence of eating apple pie
eludes my sense of star-eyed fantasy
despite electric warning of the clown
who cracks jokes on the television screen
to wake us from despair in sea of lies
so we ignore another genocide.

Contaminated karma we exclude
from international court of despair
condemns the charismatic criminal
who struts on bloody stage of history
to proclaim second coming of the sword
so we ignore another genocide.

Face of the angel for heavenly peace
gleams in the swirling ocean waves of fate
when we assemble in cathedral air
to lament how game of life is not fair
to tender-hearted honesty of faith
so we ignore another genocide.

Trapped in the endless wheel of soul rebirth
by mindless energy of urgent hope
designed by atomic passion of Earth,
we party in the summer yard of fame
to celebrate success of market gains
so we ignore another genocide.

While running frantically from gang of thieves,
who want to sell her body to the king,
young mother on the misty moors of fear
drops her baby on the rock of salvation
and she weeps from shock in gold cage of wealth
so we ignore another genocide.

Balanced on the narrow ridge of respect
for social conventions of wealth from power,
the grinning jester mocks the haughty king,
then soars on broken wings of Icarus
to drop atomic bomb on Hall of Mirrors
so we ignore another genocide.

Escaping crowded maze of Babylon
to build new justice state in Avalon,
we sail across the sea of persecution
to wander lost beyond the Promised Land
till we hide from Death in lush Oregon
so we ignore another genocide.

Amazed at beauty of conceptual art
composed of color smeared on skulls of gods,
I write names of the dead on marble walls
inside Global Bank of Financial Desire
then dance with Miss America all night
so we ignore another genocide.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus documents twenty genocides happening all over the Earth as tyrants with gangs of oligarchs fight to control the financial fantasy of truth.

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

Wilted Rose Of Hope
© Surazeus
2025 07 25

I throw apple seed of my faith away
so it sprouts into the tall Tree of Knowledge
from which I gain grand wisdom of old sages
who calculate rich economic gains
to maintain integrity of respect
written with blood on fractured temple walls.

I try to ask old woman by the store
how long it takes for ocean waves to talk,
but she just gives me wilted rose of hope
which leads me to brick building on the hill
where children learn the secret alphabet
designed by Brahmi of the wandering cow.

After searching the whole world ninety years
I find her again in streets of Mumbai
cooking Vada Pav by brass temple gate,
so I eat in memory of Gopinath
while milkmaids dance in warm evening glow
to celebrate Protector of the People.

While wandering forlorn on the river shore
after losing my homeland to invaders,
I hear sweet voice of young woman who sings
solemn hymn to savior of spinning Earth,
so I kneel while Radha, daughter of Lakshmi,
offers me cup of honey mushroom soma.

To battle tyrant of the mountain cave
I sharpen sword I forged from dragon bones
to defeat enslaving demon of greed,
then I return to pyramid of jewels,
proclaimed as Verethragna by the crowd
because I free the world from tyranny.

When I hear roar of Zahhak in the night
I ride swift horse with silver wings of light
to fight evil dragon of arrogance
that festers in my heart with lust for fame
till I release desire to play their game
so I can meditate on Damavand.

I build ten thousand ziggurats of faith
from Egypt east to vale of Mexico
where daughters of Ishtar with star-clear eyes
guide Children of Amen with song of hope
to build foundation of her world empire
which programs how I map myths of mankind.

Amused at foibles of humanity
in our vain quest to conquer time and death,
I eat the chocolate cookie and drink milk
as body and blood of the Eucharist,
then ride my bike to the college library
where I study languages of the world.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus dances with Rukmini on the river shore, strumming lyre of Mercury while she adorns cows with flower wreaths.

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