Limping Toward Heaven
© Surazeus
2026 02 13

Reborn on Earth as Jesus Jupiter,
assigned by Jove to guard the Holy Grail,
I wear computer mask of Lucifer
to play my role as prophet in Dream Tower
who studies psychic riddle of Brain Flower
while limping toward Heaven with Book of Ghosts.

Still crazy after years of wandering woke
on quest to find lost sword Excalibur,
I give star-jeweled crown to Guinevere
with pledge to maintain world democracy
in holy crusade against tyranny
while limping toward Heaven with Sword of Right.

Awake from timeless dream as Sirius,
startled by weird beauty of this strange world,
I emerge from bottomless Well of Light
to channel Sibyl Soul of Melusine
so I can calculate when empires fall
while limping toward Heaven with Scales of Truth.

Alert with Wand of Zambor in my heart
as Watcher in Tower of the God Eye,
I find Rocket Boots that Charlemagne wore
so I can fly with Wings of Icarus
above sprawling cities of Zathamar
while limping toward Heaven with Skull of God.

Shocked by return of Satan on world stage
disguised as presidents of super-states,
I carry Lyre of Mercury with care
to sing dire prophecies on city streets
with Voice of Cassandra no one can hear
while limping toward Heaven with Harp of Hope.

Trained by Orpheus to lead refugees
from war-torn lands to Elysian Fields,
I ask shy Ophelia to marry me
so she bakes large turkey and pumpkin pie
when we celebrate Thanksgiving in Hell
while limping toward Heaven with Horn of Fate.

Reborn from Ishtar as Astarius,
bright incarnation of the Morning Star,
I rebuild Empire of Meroveus
which I name for Mother Gothinia
and rule from Fruit Garden of Scythia
while limping toward Heaven with Bow of Faith.

Planting apple seeds on lush river shores
while riding Pegasus on Wings of Wind,
I learn to build wheeled cart from Helius
then drive west to Cave of Solaria
with soul of Phoebus singing in my heart
while limping toward Heaven through Maze of Myths.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus gathers all the lost treasures of our dead gods in Zarathian Museum of Poetic Tropes so aliens visiting Earth may understand our world mythology.

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

Jumping In Dream Book
© Surazeus
2026 02 12

Jumping in dream book of innocent hope
through oscillation of my dreaming brain,
I weave complex tapestry of events
to bind opposing forces of desire
in tender fabric of outrageous faith
that strengthens truth in land of Zathamar.

Jumping in dream book of arrogant fear
through fractal blooming of my wounded heart,
I search dark caves of Hell for faceless ghost
who understands how seeds sprout into trees
so we can rebuild paradise of peace
that brokers wealth in land of Zathamar.

Jumping in dream book of obvious facts
through research measuring ethereal breath,
I float above world television tube
with psychic humming of the Buddha Toad
who teaches children how to chase rainbows
that spiral home in land of Zathamar.

Jumping in dream book of terrible truth
through mead in cauldron that Cerridwen brews,
I prophesy cycle of life and death
for tyrant who proclaims himself world king
so we celebrate his fall at glass tomb
that crumbles lost in land of Zathamar.

Jumping in dream book of mysterious myth
through bleeding pages scratched with angel quills,
I join crusade against cruel tyranny
lead by hands of Justice and Liberty
who reign on Pyramid of the God Eye
that preserves peace in land of Zathamar.

Jumping in dream book of addictive trust
through transformation of Soul-Birthing Well,
I marry daughter of Achilles Christ
to found new dynasty of prophet-kings
who nurture people in workshops and farms
that market health in land of Zathamar.

Jumping in dream book of confident song
through vibrant strings on lyre of Mercury,
I record epic of philosophers
to glorify brave seekers of real truth
who teach in Schools of Curiosity
that foster growth in land of Zathamar.

Jumping in dream book of infinite love
through reincarnation again in flesh,
I mutate forms four hundred million years
from fish to wingless angel who asks why
to preserve immortal soul of my genes
that mirrors Self in land of Zathamar.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus, Professor of World History at the University of Zarathia, explains how the continent of North came to be named Zathamar after the fall of the American Empire.

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

Electric Scream Of Rain
© Surazeus
2026 02 12

When I wake in Museum of Lost Dreams,
heart pounding with wild song of ocean waves,
I greet faceless Spirit of Mother Light
who teaches me how to translate my thoughts
to tangled riddles of conceptual verse
that swirl wings from electric scream of rain.

Searching for love on Desolation Row,
visions flashing in my glass brain of faith,
I ask Ishtar with diamond eyes of hope
for program code that helps me learn to cope
with constant chaos of time-pulsing change
when I dance with electric scream of rain.

Alert for demons in Strawberry Fields,
feet tense with lithe exertion of respect,
I find the Carpenter building the Ark
to save humankind from the coming flood
of world wars that may destroy paradise
who sail safe in electric scream of rain.

Alone on new Bridge of Forgetfulness,
hands reaching out to touch the sail-boat moon,
I ask young Remus for lost map of dreams
so I can find glass idol of Kwan Yin
who offers me Holy Grail with peach juice
so we kiss in electric scream of rain.

Wandering nowhere in global Maze of Myths,
eyes twinkling with ripe Apple of Zathar,
I join Explorer on the signless road
who knows how to cast tyrants from gold thrones
and free humanity from mindless faith
to sing psalms from electric scream of rain.

Eating burger in Wingless Horse Cafe,
tongue twisted by riddles of refugees,
I help the Social Architect design
political system with equal rights
that ensures freedom and justice for all
who are born from electric scream of rain.

Browsing books in Library of Lost Tales,
I play Creator who crafts Ideas of Things
that formulate how our bodies evolve
fish to lizard to mouse to cat to monkey
to wingless angel striving to be God,
dream-conscious in electric scream of rain.

Awake in Empire of Zarathia,
we build from ruins of America,
I strum old Lyre of Mercury and sing
epic poem on lives of philosophers
who built foundation of our old world view
they devised from electric scream of rain.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus records people dancing with joy in the electric scream of rain to cleanse their souls of despair at the fall of the American Empire.

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

Attentive Scope Of Faith
© Surazeus
2026 02 11

These boots have tread lush hills of distant lands
where strangers welcomed me with generous hands,
and brought home lurid chunks of fertile soil
to plump flourishing garden of my heart
with sacred elements of ancient truth
which nourish fruit trees of my paradise.

This coat has flapped in winds of rugged hills
where fairies teased me with conceptual tricks,
and served as wings like those Icarus used
to transcend narrow mindset of my tribe
so I expand attentive scope of faith
while mapping maze of myths with strict insight.

This hat has sheltered my frail head from storm
hurled by indifferent Nature without care,
and shaded gaze of my observant eyes
so I progress on sacred quest for truth
that lead to cave of illusions in Hell
where I retrieved bright diamond Eye of God.

This pack has borne treasures of hopeful dreams
which I have found in tombs of long-dead gods,
so I display them in museum halls
as records of our human quest for beauty
for they bear spirits of creative minds
long after their mortal craftsmen have died,

This wand, that Zambor forged from meteor stone
which blazed from haughty hand of Jupiter,
provides emotional support through trust
for my ascension on long winding road
around snow-frosted Peak of Mount Takoma
where Kwan Yin and Athena grant me visions.

This book of tales, detailing human lives
of every soul who ever lived on Earth,
records grand epic deeds of mortal men
as tragic heroes or romantic fools
who battle tyrants in fraught game of power
to maintain justice of wise Liberty.

This tongue of eloquent expressiveness
has sung elaborate tales of human deeds
to praise the curious seekers of truth
who built foundation of philosophy
on which our world civilization thrives
as efficient food-production machine.

This brain of neurons woven from bright atoms,
which has evolved four hundred million years,
generates virtual model of our world
programmed by my ancestral memories
while we strive to transcend material form
and become manifestation of God.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus pulls hat lower with haughty grin and strides in long trench coat while wielding wand of Zambor as he leads hikers up the rugged trail of Mount Rainier.

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

Utility Network Of Truth
© Surazeus
2026 02 11

Disrupted process of aligned concern
outlines new golden way of psychic games
for fools to achieve financial success
by scamming people who labor all day
in factories, restaurants, and offices
to purchase timeshares for the Afterlife.

Shocked beginning of our fragrant return
provides expanded scope of fake world views
for tourists to amusement park of Hell
where they descend to lair of Beelzebub
in brightly painted train on gleaming tracks
so they can experience being refugees.

Prim secretary in polka-dot skirt
disburses funds to handless engineers
busy designing new woke principles
for everyone to follow in Dream Book
compiled from code preserved on turtle shells
so they can buy trucks and guns for the war.

Startled horses on Seventh Avenue
sell chocolate bars to businessmen and clerks
who search for happiness in smoky bars
till Jupiter rides by on white giraffe
while throwing pamphlets to the cheering crowd
with instructions to buy investment funds.

Trapped in utility network of truth
through tangled formulas of psychic lust,
the haughty jester in black suit and tie
steals language toolbox from the sleeping wizard,
then runs into the wilderness of jokes
to untwist meaning of obscure concepts.

Assembled puzzle of random events
presents global tapestry of mad kings
who fight each other for the Crown of Thorns
while pretty small-town girls seeking world fame
dance with joy on broken power-line poles
in solemn opera of the civil war.

Disguised as tufts of grass with sparkling eyes,
one hundred maidens with clay lamps of oil
dance slowly in the football stadium
while the haughty jester with angel wings
sings in strange language no one understands
about how empires fall from greed of kings.

Woven in matrix of the God Mind,
eight billion human beings on planet Zarth
merge disparate religions in one world view
so everybody plays by the same rules
in never-ending game of breed and eat
till light incinerates ideas of things.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus lays foundation for religions poetry as engine of national myth that programs how people perceive the world as illusion of faith.

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

Read Books Backwards
© Surazeus
2026 02 10

Ability to regulate despair
by singing hymns my flashing brain designs
provides foundation for excessive thought
based on how I take responsibility
by beaming radiant passion of my being
to nurture spirit of my loving spouse.

Though I transcend state of oblivion
by striding forth with comic seriousness,
sharp sword of ice-bitter wind penetrates
wounded shield of my heart with obvious truth
that I am fragile human stumbling lost
through endless maze of myths that is our world.

Aware of mute mephitic melancholy
that poisons my heart with obnoxious faith,
I read books backwards to misunderstand
how humans hide weaknesses of their souls
with frantic performance of sudden joy
to misdirect attention of false friends.

Wind blows snow off peak of the distant hill
as I trudge slowly across sparkling field
white is page of the book where I write spells
to understand language of power lines
that translate whisper of snow in sunlight
to heart-breaking songs of romantic loss.

I shall change my secret professor name
to Robin Arthazar of Oregon
for I twang lyre of Mercury with sass
to challenge gods of Academia
who study how I run red light of fate
and almost crash into the chariot.

Propensity to master artistry,
involving dexterous skill of aptitude,
traps my attentive mind of star-chess moves
in childish game of chase the faceless ghost,
so I must temper adroitness of faith
with honest prowess involving dead crows.

Weird expertise for drawing network dreams
provides resource of brilliant cleverness
for how I organize masks of dead gods
on white museum wall of diffidence
with self-effacing passion to secure
key to salvation for creating truth.

Capacity to gather gems of truth
provides foundation of marmoreal words
for me to reassemble frame of mind
in global puzzle of new paradigm
I weave in tapestry of social heroes
imprisoned in procedure of concern.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus attends lecture series by Professor Robin Arthazar at the University of Zarathia who discusses the role of the critic in the nurture of artists who create beauty from truth.

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

Grand Wedding Feast
© Surazeus
2026 02 10

So many snowflakes floating from the sky
shroud the death-mangled world in silent beauty
which gleams in silver eyes of young wolf boy
who stands alone before angry bull man
snarling at his intrusion on his land,
in contest over who controls fruit trees.

"I am Galates, ruler of these lands
which I have named Galatia for my soul,"
young wolf boy declares with arrogant smirk,
"for I am son of Celtus and Minerva,
son of Celto and Hercules the brave,
daughter of Britannus, king of the world."

Snarling with rage at the arrogant boy,
Tauriscus swings knotty club at his head,
but lithe Galates avoids every blow,
prancing all about as he somersaults
with graceful gestures of martial defense,
and mocks brute bull man with sneering insults.

Walking to the lake with her retinue
to gather apples from snow-frosted trees,
Scythia, wearing long white fox-fur cloak,
stops and turns at echoes of shouting voices,
then gasps with concern when she sees harsh fight
for power between bull man and wolf boy.

When Tauriscus spies tall elegant princess,
he rushes forward with vicious intent
to abduct Scythia and make her his wife,
so she shrinks back in paralyzed surprise
as bull man grabs her waist with greedy hands
and throws her over his shoulder with laughter.

Grasping bow of Hercules with firm hand,
who gave it to his mother at his birth,
Galates chases bull man through the woods,
breath puffing mist in frigid air of hope
while they run swiftly over fields of snow,
till Tauriscus threatens to kill the princess.

Squeezing her neck with greedy hands of rage,
Tauriscus shields himself behind her body,
so sly Galates notches in yew bow
sharp arrow he honed with stone of the moon,
and aims bold justice at his glaring eye,
then fires when Scythia twists herself aside.

Holding hands with Scythia in red gown,
Galates guides her in grand hall of pine
that gleams on hill above Alesia,
crowns princess bride Queen of Galatia,
then sits with her before the congregation
to host grand wedding feast for everyone.

While Orpheus strums the lyre of Mercury
and Phoebe sings Great Deeds of Hercules,
Galates and Scythia drink red wine
from jeweled grail, kiss with passionate love,
then lead communal dance to celebrate
his victory against cruel tyrant of greed.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus and Phoebe gossip about all the noblemen at the grand wedding feast, sharing tales of their selfish deeds they hide behind masks of dignity.

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

Children Of Brave Caliban
© Surazeus
2026 02 09

I remember when my brain was first wired
with shocking memories of frantic escape
from sharp-teethed monster with glowing gold eyes
so terror of harsh pain flooded my heart
with urgent energy of ardent hope
that helped me escape death four million lives.

Standing on street corner in downtown Gotham,
Zarthus contemplates how his brain perceives
the whole real world with complex virtual model
complete with alarm system that detects
danger in the form of men and machines
so he proceeds with caution down the street.

Four million generations of my soul
have survived for one hundred million years
since I was small furry mouse in the woods
running with intense passion to survive
till I transformed into long-legged cat
then climbed into trees and became lithe monkey.

Now I walk upright on two sturdy legs,
skill I learned floating in calm ocean tides
while dancing in electric surge of joy
along ever-winding shore of the world,
till I traversed whole landscape of our globe
so I know song of every mountain river.

Leaning against greasy telephone pole
while eating ice cream with leather-gloved hands,
Zarthus watches all the colorful people
of every shape and size and type and color
who populate our global maze of streets,
reborn as children of brave Caliban.

When Jupiter ruled Earth with lightning bolt,
brass martial wand tipped with emerald blade,
as judge of life and death on the ziggurat,
he chose his son Phoebus as the Crown Prince,
so Lucifer lead rebellion from pride,
then Adam had to vote who would play God.

Yet every god and king and emperor
who dared play god in mortal game of power
has rotted into dust of nothingness,
leaving nothing but skeletons and idols
to signify their legacy of power,
mute and blind head of Ozymandias.

Programmed by terror of death to survive,
I focus attention of crafting hands
to compose new ontological code
expanding religious creed of old myths
so faith includes respect for all world gods
who glow as ghosts of mortal souls long dead.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus meets Zarthus for hamburgers at the Crippled Pegasus Cafe on Demon Street in downtown Gotham City to chat about the half-time show at the Super Bowl game.

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

Awesome Realm Of Fantasy
© Surazeus
2026 02 09

Extracting feelings from his rotten brain,
David drops them in his bucket of dread,
then grips slimy handle with frozen hands
and slogs through muck across cold field of dreams
to dump false memories on heap of lost myths
so they will compost into mindless faith.

Elevation of emotional landscape
fluctuates with soul-quake of assumed regret,
so David stumbles disgracefully alert
between bouncing stones of arrogant need
despite attempts to bind his flighty soul
with heavy anchor of his rusting heart.

Expecting beautiful angels of fate
to beam before him on the broken world,
David waits patiently while fractured time
reassembles puzzle of fraught events
with random linkages between strange facts,
unrelated to shocked ache of desire.

Exhilaration born from painful rate
in ordered reversal of wrenched insight,
that twists objective sense of ardency,
sparks awake his sense of absurdity,
so David considers how roots crush stones
with slow accretion of secret respect.

Expelling questions of arrowed contempt,
that strike too deep in alphabetic gloom,
David measures enormity of fear
embodied by the man with thirty arms
who mocks inverted pride of bitterness
by making faces with devilish glee.

Enticed by beauty of elusive truth
that lures his progress to conserve false hope,
David assumes he is now the lost cause
condemned by fortune to suffer alone,
so he slingshots laughter at Face of God
to mimic victory of Zeus against Cronus.

Exploring awesome realm of fantasy
that exists nowhere but inside his own head,
David wears crown with thirteen spikes of power
that resembles crown of thorns Jesus wore
to prove his claim to divine right to rule
all the lonely people who ask for names.

Excited by vision of blazing stars
that flash across eternal sky of truth,
David types code on white computer screen
to program how brains of humanity
will now perceive evolution of life
through framework of our world ontology.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus steals tropes from all the great stories of world history to invent a new world ontology based on scientific evidence that we are swirls of atoms who think we are gods.

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

Wrong Direction Home
© Surazeus
2026 02 08

If my emotions leave tracks in the snow
to misdirect the tyrant from my goal
then I will journey wrong direction home
to fool the gang of thieves with perfect signs
so no cruel bully driven mad by greed
could ever predict motion of my heart.

When I review strange journey of my life
I realize with absolute surprise
that I left false trail of my broken heart
for all my loyal followers to find
that leads them far across the smokeless hills
where they search everywhere for sparkling rills.

Beneath gold statue of their long dead god
I rise with bruised knees of disabled faith
and pluck ripe lemons from the Tree of Life
then wander by crystal river of tears
where Shekinah sits on glorious throne
with crown of bright diamonds that blind my eyes.

Flamboyant sunset of exploding eyes
feathers clouds with glory of devil wings
so I hug every lonely soul I love
because they think I am Saturn reborn
though I prefer to play Phoebus on stage
while folding wind in pages of the book.

Though negligence attracts the mumbling ghost
who tries to play wise counselor for me
I shun the shining face of Robot God
to save myself from agony of truth
when I accept grand prize of global fame
that crushes weak souls into followers.

I hold sweet names of flowers in my heart
to wander home with the delicate dead
who hail spring beauty of the hungry queen,
unhindered by huge clouds of glowing eyes
that gaze with love at trees of stoic grief
which bleed sweet syrup of arousing pride.

Each stubbornly hopeful child of the world
carries basket of herbs on street of gold
to sit in circle of companionship
beneath the constellated chandelier
and share strange story of their wretched life
contrived by random events outside myth.

I step in every river more than once
though material waterdrops of their flow
exchanges content of conceptual thought
despite strange wishes of the Glitter Ghost
who lives unblemished life of languid lust
since all we know is delusion of hope.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus walks backward with fox steps in method of misdirection to evade aggressive demands of tyrannical Death.

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

Free Land Of Yaskonia
© Surazeus
2026 02 08

Escaping cruel thugs of the police state,
Heyhlamas travels northwest on winding roads
to snow-frosted land of mountains and lakes
where he stops along Yellowhead Highway
and stares amazed at Yehaihaskun Mountain
that shimmers bright with stripes of black and white.

"Here I shall found new empire of my heart,"
Heyhlamas proclaims to eagles and bears,
"which I shall name Yaskonia to replace
British Columbia, imposed by invaders,
as declaration of our sovereignty,
free from greedy exploiters of the east."

Climbing halfway up the striped rugged cliff,
Heyhlamas carves cave from darkness of fear
where he finds bright spirit of Manitou
gleaming in enormous diamond of fate,
so he reigns with justice and liberty
over peaceful land of Yaskonia.

While gathering nuts and berries in pine woods
to cook nutritious meal for energy,
wise mountain emperor with moon-black eyes
encounters giant woman with long hair
tangled with bones of demons and kings
who whispers to red raven on her shoulder.

When army of tanks invade mountain vales
to impose dictatorship of King Midas
on lush fertile lands of Yaskonia,
Mother Dzunukwa grabs them with large hands
and hurls them far into the Salish Sea
where they transform into Mikinaak turtles.

Inviting Kwan Yin, Lakshmi, and Athena,
Heyhlamas convenes World Council of Sibyls
who protect free land of Yaskonia
from powerful states of Telluria,
safe from tyranny of corporate kings
hungry to mine minerals from her hills.

Inviting with open arms of respect,
Heyhlamas welcomes homeless refugees
who flee civil wars in America
and many other lands around the world,
to dwell free in land of Yaskonia
where every human lives with equal rights.

While dictators and kings in many lands
exploit work of their people to steal wealth,
people in free land of Yaskonia
dwell together in peaceful paradise
based on justice and liberty for all
in vision Heyhlamas dreams in his cave.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus and Heyhlamas camp by the lake beneath Mount Robson and discuss ways to free peoples of the Earth from dictators of corporate empires.

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

Facile Force Of Fate
© Surazeus
2026 02 08

If we ignore how our tears drown the world
with cheerful anecdotes of weird success
we might find ancient mask of innocence
in gloomy evening of the silent house
by counting raindrops streaming down cracked glass
which seem to represent people we love.

If we must think about empowerment
by running across shifting sands of change
we should assess treasures from cabarets
that we inherit without ache of need
so we may fashion better way to live
beyond confusion of hypocrisy.

If we escape cage of bewilderment
with shining faces of gods we could steal
we may dispel deception of the state
that preys on us with facile force of fate
by choosing who plays prophet of our creed
though trapped in shadow of the global church.

If we sell bread of hope to lonely souls
who wander in the signless neighborhood
we might learn how to fish for compliments
that we can roast on flames of poverty
while we adore the new celebrity
who gives us cans of food we cannot eat.

If we think we are not responsible
for safety of our stolen relatives
we cannot sell torn tickets to the game
because we lost the key to global fame
so we extinguish smoldering fears of death
to sell our luggage in the marketplace.

If we presume to be more innocent
without insurance to back up our claim
we should suspect the holy priest of fraud
who sells us tickets to the afterlife
that we leave scattered on the desert sand
as we keep searching for the Promised Land.

If we try to improve our attitude
by waiving all our inalienable rights
we may have to fight for rotten respect
because we are the lost cause of the world
detained by secret police without eyes
who accuse us all of being foreign spies.

If we divine state of our bankruptcy
through gleam of trophies on the sagging shelf
we could buy forty acres by the sea
where proud grandfather clock of broken time
records each penalty we cannot pay
by burning family albums just at dawn.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus hosts glamorous parties for the rich and famous in his mansion of mirrors in the shining city on the holy hill of America.

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

Civil War In Cyberspace
© Surazeus
2026 02 08

Staring out the kitchen window at dawn,
Martin wonders if his life has been real,
or if his memories are fragments of shows
he saw on television in childhood,
which his mind composed from various tropes
to present himself as hero of fate.

Driving car on crowded highway of hope,
Martin considers possibility
that he is not first son of Bob and Kate,
that he is some manufactured android
programmed with memories his maker designed
from home movies about his son who drowned.

Gasping for breath in wild waves of the sea,
Martin swims away from the sinking ship,
smashed by the white whale of the dark abyss,
till he lies exhausted on beach of sand,
then wanders in dark forest of blind ghosts
to drink fresh water from small bubbling spring.

Typing bold words on bright computer screen,
Martin transcribes company documents
to digital format for the Space Age,
yet dares not daydream he pilots starship
on five-year mission to explore deep space
and go where no android has gone before.

Drinking beer with college classmates at night,
Martin declares with confidential smirk
that his real name, as Android Eight Mark Four,
is Nitram, mirror image of his soul,
then staggers home in darkness of the world
to sleep all night on the library porch.

Transforming from human to demi-god,
Martin extends one hundred thousand arms,
and blinks awake with eighty million eyes
inside the minds of all his relatives
who walk around the Earth in mute surprise,
when he ascends as Nitrama to Heaven.

Transcending physical limits of being,
Nitrama floats above the turning world
on flowing fibers of angelic wings
while watching humans live their futile lives
as they fight civil war in cyberspace
over true nature of America.

Sitting on the couch with his girlfriend Grace,
Martin watches the World Superbowl Game
and cheers when his favorite team wins the trophy,
then stands at the fractured window of time
and feels his god-spirit Nitrama float
too big to contain the world in his head.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus performs role as psychiatrist as he conducts healing session with Martin at the Psychiatric Hospital of America by the Hudson River.

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

Opposing States Of Mind
© Surazeus
2026 02 07

Every soul on Earth can see the same moon
vibrant with carnelian glow of brain quartz
as we dance with faith in strawberry fields
to comfort lost souls on the windy plain,
so I cannot feel lonely in my home
when I can see your faces in its mask.

My restless eyes shift up toward mirror skies
to see electric energy of minds
employ brave perseverance to perceive
star-focused landscape of questioning hearts
which sparks aspirant curiosity
encoded in bold mission to the stars.

Through cosmic contradiction of our faith
we comprehend opposing states of mind
as mirror images reflecting clear
both aspects of each complex circumstance
conditioned by global state of affairs
so we build castle from hard blocks of ice.

With furtive glance of cautious interest
I shout into vast void of innocence
while standing on Mount Carmel before noon
to eat the poisoned fruit of haughty hope
which cures depression of anxiety
so I know why the caged bird is dead.

Though fallen from bright Heaven of respect
on tattered wings of comfortable despair
I walk beside dark sea of nonchalance
to clear my heart of soul-wounding fatigue
by cultivating calm aesthetic mood
which fuels my brave ascension beyond fear.

Fertile landscape of our generous world
is filled with people wounded by their pride,
trapped by ambition of time-spiraled hearts
to play ecstatic receiver of love,
palpable with angst of harrowing hope
no more inevitable than sunrise.

Far down dark passage I will never take
toward door I never open till I die
I follow echo ringing beyond time
to twirl on still point of the multiverse
since I follow deception of the crow
who teaches me to sing with dignity.

Though I cannot say where I always am
I weave weakness of my body with pain
so I gain courage to endure long hours
when I expand scope of my consciousness
to dream the future present in the past
till I may reconcile with nothingness.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus realizes, though every spell he sings seems significant to mystery of the world, they only bear this quality for healing of his heart.

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

Impact Of Modal Verse
© Surazeus
2026 02 07

Articulation of conceptual thought
through modalities of image and sound
motivates heart of Luke with weird insight
to navigate complex landscape of truth
by crafting virtual vision of our world
that connects passive viewer to the seer.

Impactful statement of the portrait sears
assertive code of emotional truth
to bridge linguistic gap of writhing words
between the artist and their audience
by sparking private connection of hope
within broad cultural framework of desire.

Intellectual impact of modal verse
echoes proverbial jokes of social change
based on transcendent principles of love
that lights our journey beyond simple myths
through complex maze of ambiguous facts
in large-scale exhibition of strange tales.

Process of engaging multiple layers,
that support opposing concepts of truth,
through non-linear installations of scenes,
guides Luke across political landscape
as character in national tapestry
woven from our human experience.

Depictions designed by mad fools present
natural, rural, and urban environments
through digital landscape of photographs
where Luke explores modalities of truth
with image of divine authority
preserved in gesture of dream-tangled text.

Abstract creeds of grand ideologies
form critical structure from fractured states
based on accessible puzzles of fate
through sensory experience of pleasure
so Luke interprets song of ocean waves
which translates nodes of psychic energy.

Diverse methods of expression enhance
impactful progress of remembering
when Luke conspires with personalities
he finds lost deep in mordent maze of myths
to finetune resonance of social tropes
that help us navigate emotional states.

Physical context of critical thought
extracts raw concepts from cave of illusions
so Luke converts soul-wounding angst to love
through alchemical transference of fear
to mold verbal container for dream wraiths
who writhe rooted in semiotic trance.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus works as docent in Tellurian Museum of Impactful Art to help common folk navigate modalities of experience conceptualized as visionary insight.

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

Helpless Fantasy Of Wealth
© Surazeus
2026 02 07

Irrational residue of vibrant matter
contracts through sentences of phony words
which resonate with blackness of the night
based on virtual reality of thoughts
we sell each other in dark alleyways
while leaning on the chain-link fence of faith.

Each morning we wake up stronger than hope
by sealing midnight pain with almost love
despite expressive stones of ardency
contained in familiar story untold
about how society breaks in bands
who dwell unpeacefully in dead-end towns.

Heroic figures straddle tallest clouds
to scatter coins of water on our heads
while we watch prophet of the fallen god
wrestle vainly in fields of rotten wheat
where characters from stories never read
wither with helpless fantasy of wealth.

Awake on our wedding night, I explain
how sorrow burns beautiful hearts to glass,
deeper than inability to talk
about violence half-seen in dim woods
where noble warriors get caught in traps
yet yell at houses with exploding doors.

Clever belief system of structured facts
intrigues hungry gangs of wandering clowns
who insist they are hunters of the heart
though biographies they scribble with blood
are thrown on junkheap of religious faith
beneath great mountain carved with face of God.

Alert to sudden truth of angry kings,
she spreads her arms out to the fractured sky
that disappears in tone of screaming trees
with courage to oppose the police state
that imitates how Heaven controls minds
based on progress of economic games.

Through unilateral breath of holy law
our car mechanic memorizes jokes
encoding principles of moral tricks
which illustrate our failure and success
despite dissatisfaction shared by all
concerning state of illusion we flee.

Gorgeous fortune never favors the bold
for superfluous gears programming time
since we must accept emotional traps
which we present as the true way we live
supported by traditions mothers mend
through symbiosis of our pageless book.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus dissects conceptual puzzles of language epiphanies for children of the laughing rain to comprehend how death calculates fate.

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

Certified Clown Of Faith
© Surazeus
2026 02 07

Seven million years after my first birth
I ask the shadow tree of flashing clocks
how to find the Whirlpool of the God Eye
so I can jump worlds through the multiverse
in quest for garden where you are the one
I would choose to weave my destiny with.

I am only one of billions on Earth
reluctant to close my heart with faith locks
in case my spirit swells huge as the sky
though commissioned to play my part as nurse
healing innocence wounded by the gun
contrived to celebrate my life as myth.

Eager to gain legal acknowledgement
for calculating chemistry of hope,
I craft component for each curious scene
in which I play certified clown of faith,
designed to integrate mineral brains
based on mutation of logical code.

Weird assumption of social argument,
sealed with triode rate in my envelope,
presents elective destiny to mean
extraction proves my birthright as the wraith
assigned to maintain engines of mind planes
we fly with fuel of visions from the toad.

Embedded lectures are not guaranteed
to nourish formal principles of fate,
so we buy life insurance from the spy
who always seems to know what integer
we need to maximize our profit gain
required by soul mechanics of desire.

Modified concept of my puzzling creed
converts opposite patterns from blind hate
through mechanics of medicinal why
to published prototype of Lucifer
I wear as mask in effort to be vain
with reference to harmony of the choir.

Mystery programmed in our life narrative
presents migration of relevant tribes
regarding ransom notes for refugees
who seek salvation through false privacy
managed well by our solemn treasurer
who requires that I update my world view.

Religious beliefs far less cognitive
deliver customized faith with proud vibes
based on dynamics of sad adoptees
who choose to live with brave efficiency
through deviant loyalty to Jupiter
who chooses Venus for our rendezvous.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus considers why people invent religious creeds to overcome terror of transrealism that hypnotizes our brains with visions of Heaven.

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

Fractured Globe Of Ghosts
© Surazeus
2026 02 06

Winter brightness blinks from core of my soul
with closed alacrity of searing glints
that wrench my freckled happiness with fear
since hour I first reach out my helpless hands
for mother of mankind to lift me high
though I revise my memory with hope.

Before I fall from complicated choice
to measure future success with tree limbs,
I drag withered bag of my punctured pride
across heat-withered yard of honesty
that leaves chunks of my memories behind
which I collect and stew in pot of dreams.

Adjusting tone of fierce anxiety
with evening darkness of sequestered thought,
I name each faceless ghost I meet with number
to honor stars that blaze across the sky
and smash our world view into smithereens
so we remember why we are not born.

Frost on the window glass of memory
refracts clear light of wisdom bent to faith
by severed sighs of wordless desperation
which I would package with symbols of fate
to understand how ice erases death
each time I wake with arrogant surprise.

So this is how I deconstruct your truth
from mocking laughter of the greedy priest
with rooted pleasure to expose your hate
for everybody on this world but you,
which leaves us stunned on threshold of world change
beneath new arch of triumph stained with blood.

Blurred flicker-flash of my immortal soul
appears on both sides of the door at once
with leaping fracture twisted by contempt
when I cross field of alabaster skulls
to visit every variant of our world
till I find paradise unlost on Earth.

Half sunk in ardent lake of hungry hope,
I beam electric sparkles through my bones
because this world should be more beautiful
though countless creatures have died miserably
over four hundred million years of lust
to dominate this fractured globe of ghosts.

I teach my children secret of this world,
that we are driven by desire to breed
new children who incarnate soul of genes,
yet worship people who succeed as gods,
dream guides who show us how to kill to live
because we eat sweet sorrows of our hearts.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus explains how he feels to his therapist who looks just like the statue of Arthemis in the Zarathian Museum of Psychological Codes.

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

Healed By Cassandra
© Surazeus
2026 02 06

Heart twisted by sweet laughter of the sea,
who gives her wrecked ships full of long-lost hopes,
Hilda brings mass of violets from the marsh,
tufted with pungent soil in tangled roots,
to haunt men cluttered in their wave-tossed ships,
breaking their taut hearts with lies of their thoughts.

She plans to make disciples of all nations,
so they can lounge on decks of sinking ships,
while eating hamburgers and chocolate bars,
and listen to calm sons of Frankenstein
play violins and trumpets with pizzazz
while rich people from bankrupt estates drown.

Opening her bloody mouth of shark teeth,
Hilda explains with confident discourse
that the gold crown with pointed spikes kings wear
represents the crown of thorns Jesus wore
while hanging crucified on the phone pole
as he sings, "Look on the bright side of life."

Wielding eye-phone as sword Excalibur,
Hilda photographs leagues of wind-blown sand
because she loves how little ridges curve
as great waves of time break over our plans
and wipe out our empires with calm respect,
then posts them on her social media site.

Breaking out beyond the crowded town gate,
to escape precinct of the temple hall
where marble statue of Artemis cracks,
Hilda wanders up cold path of the stream
on unclaimed stretches of bleak mountain slopes
to secret altar in the alder grove.

Leaving Phoebus to his sheltering porch
of white marble, luminous with his logic
applied to system of the market game,
Hilda tries not to think about his eyes
blue as the restless sea after fierce storm
that drives her in the cave of lonely toads.

Far from strident business of shipping ports,
in jeweled cave among towering pines,
Hilda breathes mountain air of wild desire,
and sings enchanting hymn to Artemis
against rhythms of sycophantic priests
who try to trap her in garden of walls.

Ship-wrecked on rough shores of Arcadia,
Hilda hides from angelic helicopters
to run with wolves among luminous trees
far from hard temples of powerful wealth,
to nurse her bitter heart with fruit of faith,
healed by Cassandra with voice of the wraith.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus and Cassandra eat ice cream as they stroll on the river walk at sunset, then gather with the whole town to welcome the Buddhist Monks on their Walk for Peace.

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

Return To The Blank Room
© Surazeus
2026 02 05

John wakes up when Fate knocks on his fake door
with polite insistence of the wet towel
so he argues with cracked cup at the sink
while history drips on germ-infested floor
with calm regret for leaving the burned book
on the bench in the park where small frogs think.

Eating eggs and sausage smeared with vain sauce
at wobbly table set with common sense,
John thinks about the girl with long red hair
who never will wave from the train he missed,
then awkwardly tangles his trench coat on,
and wears bowler he forgot in the bar.

Certain he will return to the blank room
sooner or later with ashamed respect
for trembling body that Death passes by,
John thinks about the time he kissed her cheek
beneath the streetlamp that judges his failure,
concerned the moon clocks out before his time.

If we will become briefly infinite,
despite the way typewriters erase truth
with holy racket of the gangster code,
John chooses to believe with wounded heart
that Tomorrow will forgive our worst sins,
though Fate records our deeds with broken pencil.

Since love says nothing about jokes he tells,
which not even cruel laughter can erase,
John decides that is the trick of brave faith,
so he leaves unpolished shoes by the bed
which walk away while he is fast asleep
and visits the graveyard where no one lies.

Arranging numbers in accounting books
with professional focus of sharp puzzles,
John misplaces his soul in the bookstore
where he has never been before the fall,
forever alone just outside the door
where he cannot hear her voice in the glass.

When John hums sad tune of Amazing Grace
even Death leans in to listen with hope
though he always gets the simple tune wrong,
so he sells record of his latest hit
to Death who breaks it on rock of salvation
because lyric truth makes him want to cry.

Because the moon measures passage of time
in harmony with fast typewriter dance,
John decides time is sequence of weird words
that keep arriving with permissive shock
at vastness from the silent pause of faith
between each knock that Death raps on his door.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus affixes number address to every door in the endless maze of myths to note where each long-forgotten god lives quiet life of desperation for faith in their existence.

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

Door To The Dream World
© Surazeus
2026 02 05

Standing on round table of aging knights,
Sarmentus shouts with serpent voice of pride
that worthy men rise up from poverty
through brave assertion of creative work
to push through golden doors of elite clubs
and claim their place at feast table of power.

What more should humble men of farms endure
when they perform before greed-bloated king
to prove inalienable right to exist
when Herod mocks their country bumpkin talk
and forces kind Sarmentus with harsh sneer
to crawl on hands and knees, and bark for food.

After escaping from gold feasting hall,
body and mind scarred by brutal abuse,
Sarmentus stumbles to the River Styx
where he cleanses sorrow from broken heart,
then lies on his back beneath sparkling stars
to remember his brave father Orion.

Startled from reverie on the river shore,
Sarmentus sees appear through grove of elms
graceful Diana with yew bow and arrows
glide on winged feet over rugged hill,
long gold hair flowing in cool river breeze,
while her favorite dog ambles by her side.

Running along with the swift moon-eyed hunter,
Sarmentus offers assistance to bear
with strong arms in wagon of his calm heart
game she dispatches with accurate aim,
and though at first she seems annoyed with him
lithe wood-leaper soon appreciates his help.

Relaxed in small temple among oak trees,
Diana rests while Egeria combs her hair,
Virbius roasts deer steak on the cooking altar,
and Sarmentus fletches arrows with care,
binding points he sharpens with focused skill,
as she peeks at his chest through half-closed eyes.

Embracing separate bodies in moonlight,
Diana and Sarmentus merge two souls
in one romantic blend of gentle faith
to writhe entangled with attentive trust
till they transcend bounds of all time and space
and she becomes pregnant with their love child.

Suckling baby Janus in gentle arms,
Diana sings soft lullaby of love
while gazing in both pairs of curious eyes,
then Sarmentus teaches his two-faced son
how to navigate endless maze of myths
where he stands guard at door to the dream world.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus gives gold coin with face of Herod to Janus who allows him to enter Temple of Dead Gods where he plays lyre of Mercury for the evening feast.

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

River Of Dream Keys
© Surazeus
2026 02 04

Rather than eat the ocean stone of faith,
while thinking about black milk of the Earth,
I prefer to become the first apple seed
that dares to crack the asphalt parking lot
where holy angels park cars to attend
church service in glass cathedral of lies.

Jealous that I found secret jewel mine
from which I extract wisdom of star gods,
the faithful servants of the Lord attempt
to chain my hands in dungeon of despair,
but I am subtle whisper of the breeze
that dances on the river of dream keys.

After selling ice cream to Tantalus
and soothing hand lotion to Sisyphus,
Socrates attends the Rolling Stone show
to dance with wild abandon of the fool
because he is in love with Hecate
who brews wine in cavern of innocence.

Despite regret for beheading the seer
who prophesied his fall from mental grace,
King Herod sends goon squad with guns of hate
to chase immigrants out of paradise,
so Phoebus builds ark of the covenant
to sail home on the river of dream keys.

Forgetful how he came to rule the world,
the Weeping Jester of Wohalia
paints portrait of grand eagle on tall pine
with noble bearing of angelic power,
then calls Rapunzel in her prison tower
who listens to him talk about the truth.

Nobody knows why men kill other men,
invading valley of the laughing skull
with principle of faith to colonize
Garden of Eden with new shopping malls
where gangsters fight battles for thought control
over who owns the river of dream keys.

In our search for freedom in the woke world,
programmed by urgent need to evade death,
we give each other fake holiday gifts
with preciously obscene anguish of love
while staring at rose window in the church
that slants conceptual truth with psychic heft.

Though Jesus Christ will never come again
because his mortal body is now dust,
brave spirit of Good Leader he embodied
appears each generation in the world
to free the people from cruel tyranny
so we fish on the river of dream keys.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus maps the river of dream keys while working as hydrologist at the University of Zarathia to write his doctoral dissertation on how humans translate the song of water to poetry.

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

Erase My Secret Name
© Surazeus
2026 02 04

Stuck alone between the heart and the mind,
floating in the river that swirls nowhere,
I laugh at how often crows call my name
as if they know how I feel about love,
so I explain to them, nothing is real,
but they insist on giving me mushrooms.

My brain receives signals from singing trees
that beam flashes of emotions in code,
so I listen closely with attuned ears,
but I cannot understand what they say
though I fold my hands and attempt to pray
as I reply with caws wild crows express.

Clouds glow gold on horizon of my hope
so I reach out my hand to touch their thoughts
but I feel nothing since I am so small,
no more than speck of dust in the vast world,
no more than drop of water in the sea,
though I feel the whole world inside of me.

Electric buzz of frantic arrogance
jolts suddenly through fail frame of my being,
so I scream loud to crack the crystal sky
till my voice vanishes through everywhere,
which leaves me stranded on the roadless globe,
laughing at how significant I feel.

I write my thoughts in letters on the scroll
that form words linked in writhing sentences
to bundle flashing concepts in tight pack
containing huge vision in fractured jars
yet strange emotions leak out through its cracks
so I feel confused what I really feel.

When I sing weird emotions of my heart
in structured patterns of conceptual thoughts
defining rapture that expands clear scope
involved in conscious vision of my mind,
I feel confident my insight is clear,
yet people stare at me, then mock my song.

I wonder with surprise of muted shock
what alien language outside their purview
I must be using to express my thoughts
that no one seems to understand my truth,
mocking me with vicious sneers of contempt,
though I sing with beautiful voice of faith.

Perhaps I should erase my secret name,
Elijah, from book of the bleeding crow,
but when cruel people throw stones at my head
I bat them away with my magic wand,
then stand before tower of the mad king
and expose his crimes with dire prophecy.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus plays lyre of Mercury while Elijah calls down wrath of Jupiter to strike down the false prophets who praise the mad king on television news shows.

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

Invent Fractured Identities
© Surazeus
2026 02 03

I telephone absent friends who are dead
because eyeless birds are answering machines
whose eyes of wisdom set the world ablaze
though I ardently desire to transform
beyond definition of the sad clown
who wants to make people laugh as they cry.

My memories flock across the burning sky
as ravens searching for the Promised Land
which I design with perfidy of faith
through penchant for supple tonalities
I share with blood-stained angels who detest
men who abuse people with selfish greed.

Stymied by corruption of sterile greed,
my quest to free the world from cage of hope
persists against iniquities of bombs
which I encode with riddles of respect
in constitution of progressive pride
through checks and balances of honesty.

Determined to settle colonial scores
through dispensation of the frightened clerk,
I sharpen schizophrenic knife of truth
between discourse of brave equality
and double-talk of arbitrary power
based on practice of plundering pure prayers.

I constantly question the lyric I
through careful ridicule of structured cost
by undermining pride of calm concern
based on writhing analysis of truth
that shimmers with ethereal travesty
since I invent fractured identities.

Amused they crucify the robot clown,
I host peace conference of global fate
on holy island of the prison camp
where bankers play chess with peasants and fools
when they negotiate fraught settlement
between opposing gangs of hungry thieves.

King of the most reviled pariah state,
I give nicknames to everyone I meet
when I convince them unicorns are real
as vibrant shadows of our bleeding hearts
who steal light of our complex legacy
by selling cynical doubts to believers.

Reptilian tears of biographic myth
reveal entitled right to eat ripe fruit
that falls from twisted limbs of power poles
from which hang voiceless lines for telephones
because we dream of worthless paradise
while climbing hills in seasons out of time.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus hosts peace conference in Cathedral of the Singing Skull to broker cooperation between ever-fighting empires of arrogant kings.

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

Declare Myself Uncitizen
© Surazeus
2026 02 03

Straight over broken rocks of rugged hills
toward azure infinity of the sea
I walk across Thasos Island at noon
to join Staphylus in his wicked dance
for mocking small kings who think they are gods
though they are hidden in towers of glass.

My heart spurts blood on barbarian land
to cleanse attentive angst of thought control
while soaring wingless across the last sky
which gains finality beyond exile
by wrenching free from cubicles of gold
before blind gods expel me from their myths.

Since I lost interest in the shining world
based on supreme fiction of global fame,
I stand mute on stage bathed in dusty light,
perched equidistant between East and West
to map topography of broken minds
crushed by bland forces of conformity.

Thus I declare myself Uncitizen
of every crowded country on the Earth,
accomplished emblem of democracy
since I transcend strict borders of the state
as psychic chameleon with many names
detached from national greatness of pride.

I dwell in Middle Earth of shifting tones,
devalued by elite crowd of the state
as parrot nomad of the mapless mind
till I return to my ancestral land
disguised as savior of humanity,
trapped by principles of the Underground.

As the most dangerous public enemy
who established network of terrorists
I paint cute demons in the holy book
with pretty faces of celebrities
while imprisoned in legend of my fate
where I watch angels hanged by the world state.

Threatened by otherness of common folk,
proud haughty butcher of the twisted tree
builds walls of Aparthood as paradise
enclosing special people inside fear
who buy and sell identity with gold
melted from skull of Ozymandias.

Awake at edge of our pulsating world,
we live in dark times of our poisoned pride
as sparks streaking vaults of eternity
to annotate our victories on church walls
with Voice of the People they crucify
till Staphylus gives me glass of sour wine.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus prances along the wall of Aparthood while strumming lyre of Mercury that causes vibrations which destroy the false separateness of racial pride.

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

Sword Heavy In My Hand
© Surazeus
2026 02 02

When my just sword grows heavy in my hand
from brave defense of world democracy,
I must find the place to end my crusade
in our noble fight against tyranny,
so I will face the tyrant with calm faith
and cast him down from tower of his greed.

Thus I will sacrifice health of my soul
to save brave people of Earth from his greed
by rolling stone of justice up the hill
so power of the people may roll down
and smash idol of gold with feet of clay
that leaves his head lost in waste land of truth.

Just as spirit of Jesus comes again
each generation as prophet of freedom,
spirit of Satan erupts from foul hearts
with fierce aggression to exploit our souls,
endless battle between darkness and light
since Mazda and Iman fought for the crown.

Nebuchadnezzar with his iron fist,
Ozymandias with his jeweled crown,
and Herod with his eagle on the pole,
possess bodies of morally weak men
who enforce dictatorship of their greed,
tearing through institutions with mad rage.

When weird angelic son of Tantalus,
shifting deep in dragon egg of our hearts,
struggles to be born from chrysalis
of social justice in depths of the well,
we unleash black dog of our revolution
and beat our plowshares into swords of fate.

Weak men who rage against machine of death
with fierce intention to control the state
expend intense amounts of energy
to sustain fragile structure of fake power,
till they fall exhausted in cave of Hell
so creative work may blossom in peace.

All mad kings grasping at rainbows of wealth
collapse from rotten anguish of despair
while clever smiths who design work machines
wave aprons high as flag of liberty
to design system of social exchange
that benefits every soul who works well.

When bloody sword grows heavy in my hand,
I beat firm function of its sharpened state
in plowshare I employ to furrow fields,
and tend wheat as loaf-ward of the warehouse
disbursing loaves of bread to every soul
so we may feast while Phoebus plays the lyre.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus adjusts the plowshare and the sword in the Zarathian Museum of World History for people to study the dual nature of civilization.

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

Vanish In Wordless Wind
© Surazeus
2026 02 02

If I stand on the edge of our lost world
so I look forward and backward at once,
I might perceive how process of the past
guides where we go in the future through change
with clear insight to analyze progress
we achieve to build on what we conserve.

Haunted by star-bright ghosts of famous souls
who performed grand roles on stage of the world,
I want to record tales of the nameless souls
who wander nowhere in vast maze of myths
while they live and die with no role to play
till their names all vanish in wordless wind.

Since Death can be adjusted without change
through strict dynastic system of control
I build citadels of conceptual truths
that cannot be dissolved by silent fear
so I waste not my life with frantic search
by dancing on the river shore of fate.

To hear strange voice of Earth in song of fire
I exit maze of myths with crystal ball
to stand frail on volcano cauldron rim
and listen to churning rumble of rocks
tumble over ocean of liquid metal
that beams magnetic field from swirling streams.

Material of the churning iron core,
effusing through thin mantel of our globe,
transforms from burning minerals of hope
to plants that blossom fruit we humans eat
while we sing hymns in choric harmony
with seismic waves that pulse in joyful tunes.

If giant ocean deep inside the Earth
springs forth from fracture in mirror of time
organic creatures who breathe oxygen
may drown in seething waves of endless change
yet fish will evolve again into humans
who ache to fly with brave angelic wings.

Awake from ancient dream of singing stones,
I register with jovial delight
I am indigenous to Avalon,
that mist-veiled island floating in the sea
where I lived for almost one million years,
cultivating cherry trees on lake shores.

With Helen I sail from Laconia
to populate the world with Calibans
who dance with drunken revelry of faith
then program concept of the world wide web
that weaves our brains in cosmic mind of god
till meteors smash our globe to smithereens.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus attends a lecture at the University of Zarathia where Inge Lehmann explains how seismic waves prove the core of the Earth is a spinning and pulsing lump of iron.

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

Lost In Fog Of Delusions
© Surazeus
2026 02 01

This republic of ours I vow to keep
by joining with my fellow human beings
to maintain fair justice for every soul,
declares the oak on Seventh Avenue
where people tie yellow ribbons of faith
to celebrate this time of all last things.

Snow covers round table in the back yard
where ghosts of animals who never speak
gather to discuss how democracy
should encourage our loyal brotherhood
in fighting to defend the sacred right
of every breathing person to live free.

Based on heroic wealth of hall and bower,
my project to redeem this angry world
leads me to search for sword and pen of truth
in stagnant water of our crowded land
so mighty souls of Milton and Wordsworth
may teach us brave freedom of the small voice.

Their souls still shine in firmament of faith
that shelters scattered peoples of our land
where we now dwell in teeming maze of myths
with selfish wisdom of majestic pride
to mission to expand scope of our laws
enforcing equal rights for every soul.

Greedy taskmasters in towers of glass
oppress our freedom to express dark fears
that haunt our daily exercise of speech
because we stumble toward paradise lost
in fog of delusions our hearts discharge
in frantic quest to find the Promised Land.

What noble purpose to build paradise
once challenged our bestial hearts to aspire
with courage to transcend our tribal past
and dwell in peaceful commune on lush land
with fellow humans from diverse estates
as we strive to create Heaven on Earth.

Unchecked power of cruel self-proclaimed kings
who grasp state power with familial wealth
was rendered obsolete by brutal wars
they fought to maintain fascist grip of greed
so we elect with liberty-bound vote
wise man whose program benefits us all.

Though gang of thieves disguised as oligarchs
threatens to seize control of federal gears
so they can exploit labor of our hands,
we join Minerva in her noble quest
to keep our brave republic free from greed
so we live as we will, if we harm none.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus encourages us all to join Minerva in her quest to expel greedy King Herod from the Temple of Democracy.

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

Material Otherness of Nature
© Surazeus
2026 02 01

Though grim shadow of mortality haunts
harsh hills of prelapsarian Arcady
full of lovesick shepherds and prancing sheep,
I search for vision of transcendent truth
through experience of Nature I record,
suspicious of mystical sentiment.

If shimmer of pure sentimental love
for Nature distorts perception of life,
I shall assert my clear identity,
reflected in Narcissan pool of fate,
and conduct solemn quest with open heart
to comprehend essential soul of Earth.

Alone on hilltop by the windswept tree,
where I enclose the whole Earth in broad scope
of my world view projected from its base,
I seek God in clear absence of its power
through which my consciousness expands to glow
in tune with numinous phantom of love.

Since humble shepherd with the raven quill
advises I look at the land with love
and not confuse my own flesh for its field,
I feel its blank indifference to fate
almost seem to mock effort of my will,
but I laugh knowing Nature has no mind.

Material Otherness of Nature glows
with personality my mind projects
so I see in vitality of fruitful trees
compassion for fragile being of my soul
which is not there in radiance of its growth,
pathetic fallacy of fearful hope.

When scolding moralist with magic wand
cautions me to avoid idolatry
that worships mindless Nature as its God,
I cast aside delusions of false pride
that local spirit of this land loves me,
and treasure spinning Earth is glob of dirt.

That vision of God on huge mossy rock,
who seems to gaze at me with loving eyes,
I realize through epiphany of faith
embodies soul of my ancestral fathers
whose guidance showed each new child how to live,
mortals providing ideal form for God.

Nature bristles with bright ancestral souls
of all my fathers and mothers who lived
millions of years in vales by sparkling streams
with negative magnitude of mind power
so God embodies spirits of their love
awake in conscious dreaming of my brain.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus plays lyre of Mercury while Theocritus sings about mystical beauty of Nature that radiates through bodies of humans in touch with spirit of the Earth.

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

We Hear The Weeper
© Surazeus
2026 02 01

If every dream deferred were to explode
with fear from sweet syrup of rotten meat,
then Red Maria with hands of hawk wings
will lead the hungry refugees of war
across the Jordan River of despair
and to crumbling church where devils sing.

When Red Maria passes by my home
to tell us how the new day has begun,
we turn away from where war always burns
to hide in silver mist from factories
that shroud the lake of fish in silent rage
where singing stones inform us of the score.

If we should all arrive in Lombardy
where rumors of mutual acquaintances
reveal secret code of conspiracies,
I shall prowl restless archives of my mind
to find the gentle Monster of our state
who wants to sing instead of scaring us.

Hydra-headed bird of America
lurches with wounded wing of arrogance
across the windy prairie of the heart
to ask if Red Maria could restore
score for our cheerful tune of nourishment
despite how milk-cart horses wait for wealth.

We hear the Weeper in the doorless home,
whose voice is querulous with shrill regret,
express blind silhouette of wordless grief
explicit with strange idiom of the street
preserved in dictionaries no one reads,
since we are all reluctant witnesses.

Packed on the bus that bears dead souls to Hell,
we race through forest of the howling wolf
in vain attempt to escape bombs of rage
by seeking ticket to the Promised Land
without pretense of pleasure in fine art,
hearts tangled in strings of the violin.

We face our fate with courage of the fool
while all the world weeps at harsh tyranny
established by cruel kindness of the king
who would pardon both assassin and thief
by stabbing them with smile of unfair law
that traps us in these strange times of despair.

Over the trading world in fractured ship
Odysseus sails beyond all legal bounds
to grasp lost treasure with his diamond hand
by selling coal to peasants in glass shacks
who vote for Sun Thief as World President
while clutching at their useless dreams deferred.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/02/…

Orpheus rescues Red Maria from masked agents of the state who attempt to arrest her for being a human being, and hides her safely in the doorless house where she weeps so everyone can hear.

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