Mystic Riddles Of Love
© Surazeus
2025 04 20

White blankness of infinity expands
ovular structure of our universe
so if we go far enough around time
we will return to first hour of our birth,
though rain-fed rivers always flow downward
from the mountain cave to the ocean wave.

The old rotten fence falls over in rain
between the backyard of neatly-mowed grass
and the forest of trees tangled with vines,
so Adam pulls wagon of wood and tools
to rebuild wall of paradise with pride,
enclosing garden of fruit trees with hope.

Constraining passion of animal lust
with solemn liturgy of wordless hope,
I organize perceptions of my brain
with strict linguistic pulchritudes of faith
which formulate mystic riddles of love
through clear perception of my starlit eyes.

Eager to glimpse the brightest star of loss
that shimmers on calm seawaves of my heart,
I cross the sandy bar on moonless night
to find the angel, fallen from the sky,
trapped by tendrils of elegant seagrass,
who floats while singing in sad revery.

Stumbling lost along river of blind skulls,
far from the weeping valley of my birth,
I find one lone apple tree on small hill
blooming bright with pink petals of respect,
so I breathe sweet ethereal soul of time
to catch the lightning bolt of obvious truth.

Bearing fallen angel in aching arms,
Adam lays the woman with sea-blue eyes
in shady hut beside the sparkling lake,
and pours sweet apple juice between her lips
till she wakes from dream and blinks in surprise,
then cries because she lost her swan-lithe wings.

Strolling together among apple trees
that shimmer pink in evening sunset glow,
Adam and Eve smile shyly with desire
as their hands brush, which wakens hearts in love,
so they embrace and make love by the lake
with melodious chirping of the wood thrush.

Teaching Seth how to prune limbs of fruit trees
to maintain verdant health with free airflow
so more fruit may sprout from network of limbs,
Adam prepares his youngest son for time
when he will bear wand of authority
to manage Garden of Eden with faith.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus teaches Cain how to strum the lyre of Mercury and improvise narrative poetry about paradise lost and regained.

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One World Astarianity
© Surazeus
2025 04 20

Reborn from spark of psychic energy,
I rise whole from ontological void
of random chance as spiral coil of love
which unifies atomic multitude
in tight organic form of pulsing light
to manifest wyrd mystery of desire.

Watching birds fly with random nonchalance
across the silver sky of everywhere,
I calculate track of the impossible
to map trajectory of the cosmic soul
who animates my body with blind faith
in warm revival from the chilling stream.

Wise woman Amen, in leopard-skin dress,
sits on flat top of the brick ziggurat
between four pillars at monolith throne
to tend the cauldron of sweet apple juice
which she gives every thirsty wanderer,
then sings Creation of the Universe.

Star Goddess Ishtar, in white linen robe,
sits on flat top of the brick pyramid
to preside in expansive feasting hall
where thousands of pyramid priestesses
assemble to attend Moon Festival
to drink the juice and eat the bread of Earth.

First Mother Astaria, in red silk gown,
sends Sarah and Abraham to the west,
and Saraswati and Brahma to the east,
to organize tribes of wandering hunters
in communes tending herds of animals
to manage food-production companies.

Astaria founds religions of the world
which spring from pulsing spiral coil of love,
so Judaism, Christianity, Islam,
Hinduism, Shaivism, Krishnaism,
Taoism, Confucianism, Communism,
thrive as one world Astarianity.

Religions of the world were first conceived
by Amen, Ishtar, and Astaria,
so spirits of our hearts on angel wings
may gather round tall Ziggurat of Ur
where Wise First Mother of the human race
first taught us how to sing dreams of our hearts.

Bold honest hero with weapon of death,
who guards First Mother with loyal respect,
dies to sustain our souls with Liberty,
so spirit of her passion resurrects
his spirit in the body of his child
who builds one world Astarianity.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus plays lyre of Mercury in the feasting hall while Astaria presides over World Convention of Astarianity that unites all world religions in one global faith.

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Revolt Against The Mad King
© Surazeus
2025 04 19

If Janet walks to the bright grocery store
past houses with lace curtains glowing blue
because people watch television shows,
she might remember where the sparrow falls
so she can weave its feathers in her heart
as she buys bread and milk with copper coins.

If Janet bears food in the paper sack
along the asphalt street that shimmers green
because young leaves were blown by the wind storm,
she might suggest the ghost inside the tree
could work as letter typist at the bank
since she likes painting white horses with wings.

If Janet cooks scrambled eggs on the stove
while demons dance as barely-controlled flames
because purple morning glory vines bind
souls of families with stories never told,
she might hide photos of her mom and dad
who drowned while fishing on the mountain lake.

If Janet eats toast with butter and jam,
described by Marcus Gavius Apicius
in his cookbook De Re Coquinaria,
she might play chess games with death on the beach
to save humanity from nuclear war,
yet cries because she loses every time.

If Janet reads the murder mystery book
about the librarian of antique books
found dead in the medieval history aisle,
she might translate the ancient epic poem
composed by Mercury with dragon blood
when drinking sweet banana-mango juice.

If Janet strolls on rolling grassy hills
to photograph the country college town
with silver river full of dragon ghosts,
she might solve puzzle of the Rainbow Bridge
signed by empty sorrow of endless roads
where people drive past fields of paradise.

If Janet gathers apples from the tree
where Lucifer lounges on crooked limb
while smoking flowers of the cosmic mind,
she might sell dreams of haunting fantasies
to lonely people hiding in the church
who pray for salvation to stick of wood.

If Janet meets Ishtar for Easter lunch
in garden grove beside the sparkling lake
to celebrate rebirth of spinning Earth,
she might march on the anniversary
of the day when We the People revolt
against the mad king and his tyranny.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus speaks before the crowd demonstrating against the tyrant on the 250-year anniversary of start of the Revolutionary War against monarchy.

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Numbered Mirror Face
© Surazeus
2025 04 19

Startled by fragile beauty of the soul,
I gaze into the numbered mirror face
that measures constant change of flashing time
with swift atomic wheels which spiral tight
to weave all moments of my memories
in one smooth flow of wisdom in my brain.

Relentless turning by the clock of fate
erases every bound material form
from shimmering landscape of our spinning globe
for we are transient shadows of One Mind
that dreams the universe of light to being
so we may sing sweet hymn of aching love.

Vague monsters on map of our memories
haunt misty valleys of our secret tales
which we explore in casual enterprise
with jeweled tokens dug from fearful caves
inspired by urgent knowledge of the wind
from lightning storms that wake us from the dead.

Awake on pinnacle of framed ideals
at shocking climax of contained desire,
I balance with opposing force of truth
competing concepts of the world we see
that blends in swirls of colorful aspects
till words we speak refract its brilliant facts.

Exiled by sorrow from my captive home,
I strum strings of the harp with arrogance
between excessive regions long pursued
with each alarming strike the pendulum
radiates in waves of silent attitude
that knocks our boat against the muddy shore.

Since I accept quotidian state of being
with heart of faith untethered from despair,
I choose to act on instinct of my mind
through will to power surging in my frame,
so I control wild flight of breathless thought
to glide with grace above maze of my dreams.

Evading gloom from strips of ardent light
with staggered prance of parallel dream-time,
I weave fragmented rhythms from chaos
with measured order words perpetuate
based on each time I circle unmapped worlds
to build quaint microcosm of the Earth.

Blind owl of my irregular concern,
that leaps on thunderous steps of holy angst,
motivates me with fierce intensive love
to float at stillpoint of the universe
with killer wings of my wandering heart
so I become unmoving shade of death.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus rows his boat merrily on the life-reflecting stream of dream to find the numbered mirror face of the clock in the Tree of Life.

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Hypothesis Of Our Hope
© Surazeus
2025 04 19

Machine of nature flashing in our hearts
recomposes shadow of timeless faith
that serves as nothing more than glowing mist
which shrouds our valley of the singing trees
who wonder why we weep tears over death
since they will transform our atoms to fruit.

Exasperation of the flowing stream
deprives our hearts of faith in birth of light
with numbing rancor of the falling rain
that reveals how our bodies need good food
in lucid testament our breath declares
as words that fall in soil as dreamless seeds.

Since God is hypothesis of our hope,
devised in desperate circumstance of fear,
we travel forward over windy plains
along invisible road of weird shapes
in dream of faithfulness that leads our steps
beyond the farthest hill of rugged space.

So that is how we figure in our eyes
this world of rivers flowing around hills,
where trees provide sweet fruit of life to eat,
is round as apples red against the sky
that we steal from the hissing snake of death
so we can dance around the burning bush.

Through divine election of hungry hope
we traverse rugged hills in latitudes
of probability with eager faith
to assert amorality of choice
as we progress in motion without laws
to prove we are free agents without cause.

Based on caprice of passion to transcend
frustrating limits from this frame of flesh,
we justify our journey against death
to circle valley of our spirit birth
so we can explore the whole universe
according to Eternal Will of Fate.

Hope to build new Eden in the waste land
highlights the desperate folly of our hearts
that leads us to wander in tangled woods,
howling in horror at shadowy beasts
that haunt our aimless journey to our graves
till we see our gaunt faces in the pool.

Though lumens of our beauty wear away,
we follow flashing moon of changing faith
that chimes progressive flow of unmarked time
in uniform degrees of psychic growth
till we transform into shadowy beasts
and fade into mute sorrow of the lake.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus leads remnants of his tribe that survived the massacre into the valley of singing trees where they build new garden of Eden by the lake of hungry demons.

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Replay The Eerie Tune
© Surazeus
2025 04 18

Orpheus leads Ophelia by her hand
high up the winding rocky mountain path
while clutching cold frame of his silver lyre
with taut strings humming in the frantic wind,
quickly with caution past the snake of faith,
eager to rejoin the heavenly choir.

Bright angels swirl around them in the sky
as clouds that glow with shocking sunset flames
with hope to lead them to the waterfall
since psychic program code in the blue eye
defines algorithms of their star names
which gives them courage to transcend the wall.

From apples ripening on Tree of Fate
swift goldfinches leap on moon-woven wings
to bring scroll of prophecy to the toad
which swells huge enough to swallow all hate
when Orpheus chants spells in magic rings
that beam eidolic illusions of God.

They share cold darkness of their aching hearts
to glimpse strange beauty of the alien face
reflecting shadow of their secret souls
with urgent care to conjure from dream charts
predawn endurance of their tribal space
defining how they perform cosmic roles.

They agree to meet at the next full moon
when Ishtar resurrects the Earth from death
in secret mountain cave where time was born
with mission to replay the eerie tune
which sharpens pure flame of their psychic breath
at haunting horror of the martial horn.

Each day they perform their ritual routine,
gathering food from the generous world
with constructive gestures of crafting hands
to maintain function of the mind machine,
programmed to perform as the cosmic herald
in project to reclaim colonized lands.

Love language of the holy messenger,
who plays the lyre that Mercury designed,
adjusts attentive focus of his heart
on needs of his romantic passenger
who asks with frightened voice if he can find
snake of fear highlighted by her star chart.

Avoiding traps that tempt him to gain power
of authority over reverent souls,
Orpheus turns away from Throne of Law
and discards key that unlocks golden tower
to focus attention on sacred scrolls
preserved in Hall of Truth by Onatah.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus gives Ophelia leather belt made from skin of the snake that tried to bite her heel till she crushed its head with her foot.

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Trickery Of The Zodiac
© Surazeus
2025 04 18

Too high above confounding maze of doors
on wings of angels stolen from dark Hell,
young son of Hamlet and Ophelia
falls in love with Juliet in red dress
when she dances gracefully by the stream
and sings eerily, "Life is but a dream."

Amazed by trickery of the zodiac
by which he calculates the road to take,
young son of Hamlet and Ophelia,
who calls himself mad jester with the crown,
decides to erase history of mankind
from pure Edenic vision of his mind.

Insisting they call him Ophelius,
instead of Hambert, lost prince of Denmark,
young son of Hamlet and Ophelia
steals gold Maserati from the garage
and races swiftly by the moonlit gulf
with engine growling loud as the wild wolf.

To treasure beauty only blind fools see
by eating apples from old Tree of Fate,
young son of Hamlet and Ophelia
declares before the cheering stadium crowd
that he is prophet of war refugees
who follow buzzing of the honey bees.

Entranced by beauty of her star-black eyes
when Juliet dances on the nightclub floor,
young son of Hamlet and Ophelia
saves her from Romeo when he gropes her thighs,
so they run laughing to the city park
where they make love till singing of the lark.

Face lit by rays of rosy-fingered dawn
while he keeps watch over his sleeping bride,
young son of Hamlet and Ophelia
contemplates meaning of life till she wakes,
then gives her apple he stole from the tree
because she is queen over land of the free.

When Romeo charges at him with sharp knife
to stab him in the heart with howl of rage,
young son of Hamlet and Ophelia
punches him in the face with calm restraint,
but Juliet clutches him and weeps in shock,
heartbroken at the death of her life rock.

Arrested for murder by grim police
for killing son of the bank president,
young son of Hamlet and Ophelia
declares his innocence in court of law,
but he is sent south to El Salvador,
locked in the prison camp forevermore.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus flies with Ophelia to El Salvador to try and free her son who was illegally detained and deported though he was born in Texas.

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Psychic Graph Of Cogency
© Surazeus
2025 04 18

Since candid words of terrid innocence
spark dreams to bloom in my lucible mind,
I hope their psychic graph of cogency
could vigify my heart with providence
based on fervific passion to express
clear insight earned through appliance of pain.

Not horrible as pallid nonchalance
through torpid indifference of charity,
my stringent livor based on vigid spite
enhances verdant particles of fear,
destined to rigify my argument
with legal articles of fervid faith.

Fierce principalities of torpid trust
assemble various codes of cogent facts
to aid construction with adjusted thoughts
of ever-shifting proverbs stating proof
that conscious vibes of rigid potencies
exacerbate our tendency to laugh.

Despite fervific focus on desire,
designed to lucify our state of mind
with latticed wisdom, trapped in formulas
none can unravel with rigific hope,
we maintain progress beyond tepid trance
to claim astringent fields as ordered truth.

Thus I hide from perception of my eyes
men shaved and stripped of social dignity,
then stacked in cement cells of impudence
by fascist gangsters gripping guns of fear
who sing grand hymns of patriocity
to sustain patriarchy of contempt.

Yet still conceptual vigor of my soul
remains the leaping fountain of respect
with unquenchable faith to sing of truth
as hungry human suckling milk of stars
from breasts of light in wicked satiety
with ravenous desire to know your heart.

Merciless attention to basic rights
through luminous landscapes of loneliness
applies contingency of urgent faith
with pride to psychic graph of cogency
so I create adjusted warmth of love
with shining wisdom of exploding rain.

Therefore we gather on the river shore
to fight for universal rights of man
against kleptocracy of greedy kings
since we outnumber wealthy oligarchs
while Zarathustra raises flag of faith
and leads us forth to build democracy.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus joins Zarathustra in the march for justice as millions of people demonstrate their faith in freedom and justice for all where no man is above the law.

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Library Of Hearts
© Surazeus
2025 04 17

Divine longing to walk the hidden course
through irregular bloom of hungry shadows
urges my eyes to perceive ordered forms
blurred in abundant rhythm of desire
with undeterred gestures to manage growth
of wild trees that obscure pathway of faith.

Beaming within limits of its taut sphere,
the sun weaves bodies of organic brains
from flashing molecules of timeless truth
who dance together on the ocean shore
and sing in harmony with swirling waves
with rapturous awe at beauty of light.

Mind-pulsing revery of honey bees
causes clovers to sprout from rancid prairies
where children splash in starry-silver pools,
then hold their breath and float on nothingness,
suspended between credence and despair
based on narrative of hope we compose.

Crouched inside encompassing wall of mounds
that shields our bodies from hunger of monsters,
we whisper perfect names in secret code
to realign attention of our eyes
with focus on dark shadows of despair
that lurk among indifferent trees of faith.

Eager to erase ignorance of Earth,
we attempt to explore beyond the pale
of sacred haven where we clutch word keys
with fierce objective to protect the truth
in tandem with speech of electric leaves
that rustle softly in the haughty breeze.

We catalog strange objects we observe
as mind-animated parts of blind trees
that teach our hearts to be reliable
with rooted stories of the wanderers
who transplant ghosts from garden of mad gods
to prove our souls are born from wind and rain.

Gold warblers lounge in maples by the lake
with holy mission to retrieve the star
that falls in blaze of glory from storm clouds
to write our memoirs in black-feathered books
we store with care in Library of Hearts
where daffodils bloom from our rotting brains.

Dawn wrenches lonely hills from wordless graves
without respect for how we humans feel,
so we map signless roads of everywhere
which all lead straight to City of the Owl
embodied by the girl with moon-gray eyes
who teaches me to sing when angels weep.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus plays lyre of Mercury so lost souls may follow him on the hidden course to City of the Owl.

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Matrix Of Dream-Webs
© Surazeus
2025 04 17

When the shadow butterfly of my heart
flutters into bright planet of your eye
I forget myself and become your hope
as sweet electric current of respect
flows between our bodies in spiral rings
that blossom into wings of honest love.

When the star-flashing honey of our words
weaves taut beams of early afternoon light
in startling mystery of mutual desire,
we merge our bodies into glowing cloud
as precious wings of respect bind our minds
in compassionate embrace of pure love.

We want this temporary flame of love
to glow as long as we are both alive,
connecting our alien bodies with trust
as we stroll hand in hand on ocean shore
to sing in harmony with awe-formed waves
so we tend energy of faith we share.

The more we talk about the world we see,
sharing anecdotes of wondrous events
that we experience in our times apart,
the larger virtual world inside our minds
expands to accommodate formulas
we devise to explain what we perceive.

Though we are chemical cogs of desire
as bodies bound in matrix of dream-webs,
propelled by natural forces of the Earth
in global wheel of flashing molecules,
we navigate landscape of sun-sparked forms,
choosing our way with axiom of free will.

We write the script of our predestined fate,
dispelling illusions of hopeful dreams
to measure status of reality
so we can comprehend nature of things
enough to choose what actions to perform
within variable range of possibilities.

Constrained by universal laws of Nature,
we exercise expansive force of hope
to balance forward motion of desire
between extremes of energy and form
as aggressive souls of organic brains
in compliance with machinery of time.

Lithe with play of illusory free will
within atomic framework of the Earth,
we breathe ethereal spirit of the sun
to surf on undulating waves of fate
along trajectory of flexible laws
in tune with inexorable flow of hope.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus explains how we create our fate to his children as they fry fish on the beach and drink apple juice brewed by Ophelia.

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Island Of Sweet Hope
© Surazeus
2025 04 16

When the shining sun of desperate hope
is obliterated from the clear sky
by haunting shadow of the howling moon,
Odysseus crawls on sore hands and knees
across the sparkling sands of Ithaca,
and cries out with joy at his return home.

Three thousand two hundred and three years later
I stand in evening dusk on back wood deck
of my home in sultry Appalachian hills
near turbid waters of Oconee River,
and feel ache of nostalgia in my heart
for homecoming of heroes from harsh wars.

How far from Ithaca in sailing boats
my ancestors journeyed on endless search
to find lush valley with the Tree of Life
where we may gather in the evening dusk
to party with pleasure of being alive,
sweet visions that program how my brain dreams.

Now far away from Island of sweet hope
I dwell in temporary paradise
in quaint comfortable home I did not build
where my wife and children may safely dwell
to create beautiful art about life
with eager passion of dream-crafting hands.

Soon the shining sun of desperate hope
may get obliterated from the sky
by readjustment of the fate machine
when devil of greed who escaped from Hell
possesses old king with ambitious pride
to again wreck grand towers of Ilium.

This cruel Agamemnon in our White House,
who has unleashed mad Achilles in hate
with avaricious chainsaw of contempt
to exile countless good people from Heaven,
sneers with bitter disgust for honest law
while he rampages in careless revenge.

If wily Odysseus with clever ploy
would evict cruel tyrant from our White House
to rebuild our great empire he destroys
instead of helping trash America,
he could return to Island of sweet hope
with esteem that he saved our land from greed.

We call on wise Athena to attend
urgent mission restoring our great land
by turning heart of sly Odysseus
from selfish greed to selfless courtesy
with courageous compassion of respect
to save our homeland from invasive thieves.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus plays lyre of Mercury and sings tale of the Return Home at the feast when Odysseus celebrates saving America from tyrannical thieves.

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This Hour Of Faith
© Surazeus
2025 04 16

Emerging from wood fane by the pear tree,
Sabina stands before her frightened people.
"Now that we have secured haven of hope
on lush shore of swampy Albula River,
protected by our guardian Curinus,
may Mother Ceres bless us with ripe wheat."

Gesturing toward their boats anchored to oak trees,
Sabina reminds them of their hard journey.
"My father, Sabus Jupiter Fidius,
assembled our tribe, driven from their land,
on rugged sea shore of hilly Laconia
and lead us here to this lush mountain valley."

Sabina presses her hand on her heart.
"His noble father, Sancus Fisovius,
divine guard of our tribal sanctuary,
god of heavenly light, sanctified oaths
of agreements in contracts of respect,
and avenged dishonest ones who broke oaths."

Sabina gazes in their hopeful eyes.
"Now that we enclosed our town with safe walls,
we shall build temple to our tribal founder
to preserve memory of his honest reign
as son of Dius Fidius and his bride,
wise Neith, graceful daughter of Sobecus."

Sabina wipes tears from her sparkling eyes.
"Sobecus reigned as river priest of oaths
in land of Egyptia in hot Africa,
till his brother overthrew him in coup,
and set him adrift on the wine-dark sea
with his young daughter and beloved books."

Sabina raises right hand to the sun.
"Generous Feronia, Goddess of Mothers,
found Sobecus and his daughter shipwrecked
on shore of Laconia, hungry in rain,
so she gave them shelter and food to eat,
and told her son Fidius to guard them well."

Sabina crosses her arms across her breast.
"When Neith grew tall and graceful as the willow,
her kindness and beauty won the bold heart
of Dius Fidius, defender of his tribe,
so they pledged their love before Feronia,
then she gave birth to our Lord Fisovius."

Sabina spreads arms open as they cheer.
"Each generation of our bold ancestors
wandered lost in this world of hostile tribes,
but we build our new home with crafting hands,
for we are blessed by Feronia and Neith,
whose spirits wake in me this hour of faith."

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus bows his head before statue of Sancus Fisovius in the temple on the Quirinal Hill, then joins the marriage feast between Roman men and Sabine women.

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Farm Fields Of Paradise
© Surazeus
2025 04 15

Warned by stones in the walls of paradise
about fish flipping the sky upside down,
we untangle memories of this wild land
which we name after first mother of faith
who walked these lush hills centuries ago
to hide our bodies in egg of her heart.

Vulnerable to hungry machines of hope,
which plow fields of grass into furrowed verse
where wordless men with taut wind-weathered faces
scatter seeds of stories in graves of fear,
old paradigm of Earth we cherished deeply
hides redolent spirits of our dry bones.

Words ferret mysteries with the sense of touch
we connive to prove Earth remembers us
so cities of stone we build on her breast
creak with anguish of forgotten desires
that bloom from rain-wet fields into gold wheat
we bake into bread to weep for Adonis.

Consorting at twilight with honest lovers,
we weave strange loneliness of midnight flowers
in wreaths we wear to May Day festivals
with unrelenting passion to transcend
cadence of broken hearts in sprightly dance
though we relapse to status of lost fools.

Our bodies vanish into fields of wheat
where we first rose from corrugated tombs
to map eccentric meadows teeming angels
who chase each other twenty thousand years
as we gather berries from tangled vines
which represent weird history of our race.

Buoyant spawn of our hearts escaping caves
grasp roots of trees with elegant disgrace
to organize wild herbs from shadowed woods
into neatly aligned rows of fruit trees
which flourish thick in hush of river winds
for sweet unsingable hymns of old faith.

Amazed at startling beauty of gold mist,
that frames the rising moon with arrogance,
we calculate our peaceful absences
with daring urgency to comprehend
crystalized wisdom of our drifting house
that shelters our children from angry storms.

Conjured by gale-warning voice of the sea
that sings with sibilance of honest hope,
our spirits beam with marvelous intent
to count each raindrop shining with its star
that animates seeds with ambitious pride
we feel tending farm fields of paradise.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus plows the field and sows seeds, then joins villagers at the sowing festival to celebrate the bursting vital energy of spring.

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

Fervent Prayers To God
© Surazeus
2025 04 15

The words I speak are transient as the wind,
yet mold from conceptual clay of my brain
timeless state of reality I feel
vibrate in ruthless wind of constancy
with arbitrary perfection of thought,
for I create the world with words I speak.

The mystery of the weirding words I speak
reveals the way to balance truth with lies
halfway between reality and dream
when I stand on the rock of haughty hope
to proclaim the meaning of world events
that swirl our bodies in currents of fate.

The faultless vision of the way things are
highlights the pointless passion of desire
that drives our spectral progress to transcend
walled obstacles of belligerent faith
contrived by gestures our bodies invent
to program fortune of successful plays.

The process I prescribe with strict respect
provides clear method we articulate
to catalog all objects of the world
with words that shape forms into clear ideas
demarked by boundaries of conceptual fact
depicting accurate state of primal being.

The card tricks jesters play on loyal fools
expose selfish greed of each conscious soul
who risks their hard-earned wealth of social pride
to gamble for salvation against Death
who always wins in fate-adjusted time
despite our fervent prayers to God for Life.

The eerie laughter of the apple tree,
who understands fierce hunger of my flesh,
excites erotic wisdom of my brain
to plant small seeds in putrid river mud,
and faithfully attend their fragile sprouts
till forest of fruit trees grows from my corpse.

The monstrous toad beneath the murky waves
lurks in disguise as beauty I desire
with glamorous allurement of sweet eyes
for pleasure promised by ecstatic faith,
so I dive in dark lake where Grendel hides
to fight the demon Nature with word spells.

The painful memories of our harvest hour
compose the sturdy bridge of honesty
across which humans walk with trembling faith
to find the Promised Land of fruitful trees
across the waste land of sterilized faith
defined by rapture of true words I speak.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

Orpheus guides lost refugees from the collapsing empire to climb Mount Takoma where they meditate to transcend all realities with song of truth.

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

First Designed By Amen
© Surazeus
2025 04 15

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

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

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

Highways For Fast Cars
© Surazeus
2025 04 14

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

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

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

Holy Light Of Fear
© Surazeus
2025 04 14

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

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

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

Wise Athena Polias
© Surazeus
2025 04 14

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

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

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

Valence Of Mute Love
© Surazeus
2025 04 13

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

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

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

With You Beside Me
© Surazeus
2025 04 13

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

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

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

Neatness Of My Progress
© Surazeus
2025 04 13

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

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

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

Game That Never Ends
© Surazeus
2025 04 12

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

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

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

Nothing Of My Faith
© Surazeus
2025 04 12

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

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

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

Signs Along The Road
© Surazeus
2025 04 12

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

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

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

Spells Of Psychic Dreams
© Surazeus
2025 04 11

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

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

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In The Ardent Zone
© Surazeus
2025 04 11

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

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

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Wall Of Eternal Hope
© Surazeus
2025 04 10

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

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

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Pilgrim Of Eternity
© Surazeus
2025 04 10

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

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

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Garden Of Dead Books
© Surazeus
2025 04 10

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/04/…

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

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