Stuck In Weird Otherworld
© Surazeus
2025 07 28

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

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

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

Fake Mask Of Apollo
© Surazeus
2025 07 28

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

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

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

Her Eyes Look For Angels
© Surazeus
2025 07 27

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

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

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

Elderberry Wine Of Faith
© Surazeus
2025 07 27

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

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

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

Will Overcome And Grow
© Surazeus
2025 07 27

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

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

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

Propaganda Of Moral Truth
© Surazeus
2025 07 26

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

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

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

Ignore Another Genocide
© Surazeus
2025 07 26

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

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

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

Wilted Rose Of Hope
© Surazeus
2025 07 25

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

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

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

Perfect Puzzle Of Power
© Surazeus
2025 07 25

Discovered to be assassin of lies,
the lonely old man with snake-tangled hair
lounges in front of the national bank
and charges credit cards to prophesy
which stocks yield the most lucrative returns,
then sleeps behind the library with ghosts.

His demons dance around him in dawn light
to reveal strange secrets of the human heart
so he knows how each person will perform
when faced with the paradoxical choice
because we must sacrifice what we love
to gain the power of wealth to succeed.

The red traffic light flashing at midnight
becomes eye of the dragon in his heart
who glares with fierce ambition of the fool
to rule the world of churning factories
with passive-aggressive mind games of fear
till wind scatters perfect puzzle of power.

The dead cicada on bay-window screen
displays deceptive prowess of the tyrant
who rules with rage based on terror of death
by gas-lighting the people with dire threats
that forces them to bow down to his will
till they rise up and revolt against hate.

Bright sun of our American Empire
fades in the west from abject tyranny
so homeless wanderers of troubling times
occupy abandoned cathedrals of hope
to build new coalition of the damned
for war against God in tower of gold.

God is idea of political power
embodied by the angry mortal man
who strives against currents of history
then surfs on waves of popularity
to fight against opposing force of will
that chains the hands of creativity.

Observing marble torso of Apollo
that glows with ripening fruit of true power,
the lonely old man with snake-tangled hair
decides he has no need to change his life
since he embodies divine energy
that flares bright with procreation of faith.

The evil tyrant who grasps at control
with greed-weakened gestures of vanity
destroys base at illusion of his power
when we confirm our souls with self-control
by asserting liberty through the law
that programs our perfect puzzle of power.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus documents the autumn the patriarch who declares himself dictator of the world for life as he stumbles half-blind in the endless labyrinth of false political power.

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

Meaning Of The Dream Self
© Surazeus
2025 07 25

The old man who wrestles with the wild sea
decides not to play the cool movie star,
so he lounges on his overturned boat
and watches families wander on the beach
because Heaven is always out of reach
despite our feeble longing to be free.

Swimming in dark matter of the star brain,
before wind erases our homes from time,
we ask the demon of the deep blue sea
if she would join us for afternoon tea,
so she twists our bodies far out of rhyme
to note our special connection with soft rain.

When the white gull curves along the wide bay
in timeless moment of suspended faith,
I feel hot surge of sweet ecstatic pain
redefine the meaning of the Dream Self
described by riddles in book on the shelf
that bursts into flame with nothing to say.

Each disappearing moment of clock time
retains sinuous vibe of elegant trust
that we extend to our partners in crime
whose faces are veiled by window of lust
since they take their tales with them when they leave
to flee cruel stereotypes of false myth.

Soft foliage of the river-dancing trees
caress her heart with bitter empathy
for how it aches with sharp kiss of the breeze
when she escapes high walls of paradise
to dwell east of Eden by forest pool
where she falls in love with the haughty fool.

Narcissus turns at rustle of footsteps
to see young girl with dress of laurel leaves
who echoes every word he dares to speak,
so he takes her to the high mountain peak
where they share marriage vows of loyalty
when Daphne kisses him with honesty.

Apollo finds mute Echo by the gate
so he takes her to fields where horses graze,
and she giggles with innocent delight
when they eat apples from her open hand,
then they make love to fertilize the land
so she becomes high priestess of the maze.

Though red thread of true love binds lonely hearts
with destiny we choose to activate,
star-crossed lovers, mismatched by wily Fate,
adjust ideal expectations to match
the stranger they choose as their lifetime mate,
which generates children who wonder why.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus asks Ophelia to marry him, so she takes flowers to grave of Eurydice where she vows to take care of him, then kicks the laughing skull of Hamlet down the hill.

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

Weird Song Of Water
© Surazeus
2025 07 24

Through weird song of water I see the future
unfold in flash of cause and consequence.
When our common world view begins to fracture
we realign beliefs through consonance.
With care we assemble puzzle of truth
through analysis of messiah sleuth.

Through mirror in the waterfall of wisdom
I dream complex reason of consciousness.
Polishing language code of mental prism,
I perceive the Real through the oculus.
With laughter she deconstructs brittle pride
I wear as mask in vain attempt to hide.

Through door of rain I teleport to Heaven
to track world events with reconnaissance.
Translating coded riddles of the raven,
I expose government improvidence.
With chart of faith I navigate Dream Zone
where demons vainly twang the cosmic tone.

Through atomic mirror of Mother Nature
I design time-fractured hypothesis.
Elevated far above mortal stature,
Midas crumbles from stone of Sisyphus.
With honest flame I forge the pearly gate
that traps humanity with chains of fate.

Through psychic pool safeguarded by Narcissus
I learn life lessons to build confidence.
Amused by passion of divine ecstasis,
I program business based on competence.
With strict accounting of oneiric store
I revert to state of being in my core.

Through symbol-code of our global First Mother
I study thought-rhyme from Tiresias.
Appointed as bride guard by my State Father,
I sail away with crown of Romulus.
I measure passion of the human heart
that never follows the preordained chart.

Through ceaseless shimmer of the history river
I record rate of verbal permanence.
Reborn each generation as Lawgiver,
I trace symbolic flux of provenance.
With admiration of the Fairy Moon
I compose the new American Tune.

Through rippling water of Soul Evolution
I scry mind games from the Acropolis.
Ready to lead the new world revolution,
I rule Earth as Emperor Tantalus.
With insight in progressive creed of growth
I greet nothingness of death with no oath.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus peers into shimmering veil of the waterfall where he sees epic movies about history of humanity play on the silver screen of our ambition to rule the world.

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

Secret Face Of God
© Surazeus
2025 07 24

Almost as if whatever speech he says
his followers treat with reverent awe
since they are so traumatized by events,
which twists their weak minds into worshippers,
that they accept his every proclamation
as word of God they must blindly obey.

Not even the wisest thought analyst,
employed by the poshest global thinktanks,
could decipher the nonsensical riddles
he spews in spells of modern poesy
with grandiloquent collage of symbols
he snatches at random from trash of truth.

Yet how he struts about on spot-lit stage,
dressed in uniform of the poete maudit
that consists of tattered jeans and torn jacket,
clutching the microphone of seriousness
to proclaim with voice of the bleeding heart
disjointed concepts that disavow meaning.

Each month he publishes thin magazine,
defined as proud journal of high word art,
arcane jumbles of conceptual salad
that challenge your rational hierarchy
with shattered fragments of cultural trash
in fractured style that reflects ruptured truth.

Clinging desperately to the cluttered raft
of modern confessional language expression,
his loyal followers debate weird code
contrived from debris of fake theoretics
that shows how his shallow genius disrupts
puzzles of power his rage disassembles.

No fool could shore false fragments of their ruins
against conceptual walls of paradise
through crafted identity of the self
hidden by mask of the modish persona
each serious poets carves from bitter hope
that they will win plastic laurels of fame.

So deep into harsh wilderness of pain
wanders the true prophet of calm despair,
maintaining endless quest of vanity
to find they wear the secret face of God
which looks like mask that Byron threw away
till they return with weird poetic code.

Though none dare listen to prophetic spells
which crow-eyed wizard by side of the road
howls at billions of cars on the freeway,
divine vibes of his words shatter world views,
then provide new ontology framework
for people of the Earth to dream the why.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus prances around on the stage to play the poet who mocks his own serious expression of the true self which he invents from emotional pain of his abusive childhood.

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

Excessive Beams Of Light
© Surazeus
2025 07 23

Too deep in the labyrinth for you to find me,
I map weird journey of the human soul
to find the ancient treasure of my heart
still buried in my tangled memories
that spur conceptual action of my hope
each day I wake alive in world of dreams.

Exactly west beyond the fallen wall,
where piston engines chug in hungry hope,
I walk the narrow sidewalk of despair
to find the Prince of Darkness in my heart
so I can weave excessive beams of light
in wings I spread to soar into the sky.

Though I breathe deep ethereal soul of truth
that should lift high my fragile frame of flesh,
I fall back down to solid bounds of why,
still trapped in frail meat-skeleton of faith,
so I howl wordless hymn of agony
while climbing mountains on the Isle of Skye.

Too far above the maze of city streets
where I competed in fierce game of wealth,
I stand unclothed of social fortitude
entirely west against flames of sunrise
despite programming visions of the stone
to translate prophecies of the blind toad.

Awake in frame of flesh my mother wove
from skeins of platitudes in fairy tales,
I build wood ship to sail the seven seas
by following bright stars of divine truth
that guide my journey to the Promised Land
where angels welcome me to paradise.

Assyria to Oregon I transcend
ten thousand years of psychic energy
by growing crops from soil of solitude
to build empires of warriors seeking fame,
though all great kings with jeweled crowns of pride
crumble into sand on the beach at last.

Constructing castles from bones of despair
as walls of Heaven to protect my clan,
I dream of building paradise on Earth,
but weep as centuries of silent rain
erode social security to ruins
where ghosts of my ancestors haunt my heart.

We generate new life from eager hope
that children of our hearts my dwell in peace,
but greedy men destroy Heaven we built
and drive us out to wander far from home,
forever homeless on this spinning globe,
so we gather on the lake shore to sing.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus climbs high mountain on the Isle of Skye to gaze at the silver sea midway between Assyria and Oregon.

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

Dance With Faceless Girl
© Surazeus
2025 07 23

Faceless Girl in old crumbling castle tower
asks me if I would steal for her the flower
that God uses to create galaxies
so she can generate genetic keys
that transform bodies of fish into gods,
but I stare at statue of Venus that nods.

When I escape confusing maze of Hell,
I shall return to Castle Arundel
to dance with Faceless Girl in swirling mist
beneath the pear tree of our secret tryst
till she is shrouded in the glow of fame
so she vanishes in code of her name.

Dressed in long white gown of immortal light,
Faceless Girl reveals the secret of flight
when she holds my hand with sweet tenderness
while we wait on Bridge of Forgetfulness
for spark that ignites the new civil war
over who controls the grand temple door.

Aware that we are souls in mortal flesh
that vanish at unraveling of its mesh,
Faceless Girl retrieves from Cave of Lies
oneiroscope that enhances our eyes
so we can perceive atoms of the mind
that weave matrix of the brain love designed.

Groping for salvation through purple haze,
we help each other transcend the next phase
in evolution of the social game
to organize passion in the tale frame
programmed to channel energy of hope
within our more productive mental scope.

Corrupted by blinding greed of the weak,
I climb beyond pain to ascend the peak
from which I see pure roundness of our world
which transforms me into the cosmic herald
so I return to maze of city streets
with scripture inspired by wise paracletes.

Entirely awake in vast glow of time,
Faceless Girl on ocean shore of thought rhyme
regrets no surging cataract of faith
that fills her body with soul of the wraith
who lingers long on Earth in words she sings
which sprout from my sore heart as angel wings.

Palming her calloused hands in reverent prayer,
Faceless Girl in white lace dress by oak chair
walks slowly among flowers by the pool
to kiss my mouth because I am her fool,
then she transforms into statue of stone
who stands ten thousand years in rain alone.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus plays lyre while Faceless Girl follows him from Hades to the Upperworld where she becomes a famous singer who performs love songs in stadiums packed with thousands of fans.

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

Feelings In Box Of Words
© Surazeus
2025 07 22

I pack secret feelings in box of words
so language I weave from tangled fruit vines
explains how I translate experience
out of context through frame of reference
that shuttles message of my frazzled brain
back and forth across riddles of its code.

I bind language in message of desire
that functions as frame of experience
trapped in brief narrative of ignorance
that spurs the horse of arrogant respect
to break free from egg of meaningless facts
and fly on wings of weird epiphanies.

I produce this new living document
to map complex matrix of potent truths
that define our social relationships
significant to formation of texts
depicting our personal qualities
through moral values that code fairy tales.

I spark hot fireworks of conceptual faith
composing perception that moves the mind
with instant prophecy of soul rebirth
through electric energy of performance
when I shout with wordless astonishment
that shocks the audience awake from truth.

I twist disjunctive procedures of hope
that eschews mythmaking of desert seers
to personalize tales of martyrs for love
which radiates wisdom of the sufferer
in chants that vibrate through the listener
to curate entertainment for the tribe.

I swim as jellyfish in sea of dreams,
safe in glass capsule of my sublime pride
that associates words in chains of thought
through forward motion of unconscious fear
with spiral loop of reversal to leap
across abyss of nothingness I know.

I polish window of opacity
to map fullness of thoughts that signify
profusion of events which interplay
subjective characters with coded names
that glide across the surface of our eyes
when we create community of minds.

I provide echoes of harmonious tones
through principle of organized concepts
swirled in confusion of vast mental realms
that disappear in words we never speak
as we emerge from illusion of truth
encased in symbols of the hidden heart.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus deconstructs socio-psychological ideologies encoded in the assumptions of language that poets employ to deprogram human brains clean of the capitalist patriarchy.

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

First Imaginary Friend
© Surazeus
2025 07 22

The whispers of the stopped clock call my name
so I become dark shadow of the wind
to find my first imaginary friend
but she refuses to erase my fame,
so I slip through cracks of forgetful faith
to envelop Earth as the star-eyed wraith.

The voices of the dead wake me from dream
so I invent the dessert you call cake
to expose cruel deceivers with the fake
which leaves me free to play along the stream
where people row their boats to paradise
which only accepts people who are nice.

I live my whole life on the edge of hope,
performing under microscopic gaze
of brave saviors drugged in religious haze
who teach evening classes on how to cope
with collapse of civilization, though
everyone wants to get on with the show.

Each evening I surrender to my fate
to play great hero who must save the world,
struck by lightning to become cosmic herald
commissioned to guard the heavenly gate
from evil monsters of the human heart
who deviate from moral rules of the chart.

Assuming authority of starlight,
so my body glows with transcendent words,
I translate holy scripture of fruit birds
as they evolve from dinosaurs in flight,
once giant devils hunting us with claws
till we develop grand religious cause.

As influential leader of the crowd,
I am the fearless change-agent of truth
reborn each cycle as messiah sleuth
to manage projects that will make God proud
by building work cultures from the ground up
based on mystic wisdom of the quest cup.

Yet constellated ghost of my twin soul
walks out the door into the grove of trees
to realign the Earth by strict degrees
which calculates new academic goal
for which we measure distance beyond death
through soft extension of the holy breath.

Before the world is destroyed by the bomb
we shall meet at the Pemaquid Point Light
where Cetus and Andromeda still meet
for tea and crumpets at the empty tomb
where skull of Perseus, geared into the clock,
analyzes trends of conceptual stock.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus joins Cetus and Andromeda who want to start a book club where housewives share their thoughts on riddling satires of the Astarian Scriptures.

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

Earth Is Spinning Faster
© Surazeus
2025 07 21

Because our Earth is spinning faster now
I want to race through endless maze of myths
to fight the monsters haunting human hearts
and free the Queen of Liberty and Justice
so every person living on this globe
may dance with joy in harmony of love.

Since Hermes built the lyre from turtle shell
four thousand years ago in Cave of Maya,
wise prophets stumming strings of intuition
have analyzed the force of human nature
to detail how great empires rise and fall
by organizing code of human hope.

Internal force of psychic energy
propels our planet through the starless void
in spinning whirl of constant cognizance
transforming sphere of flashing molecules
to generate organic mortal gods
who evolve from fish into wingless angels.

I feel the surging tides of ocean waves
slosh wildly weird against protective shores
with pulsing beat of undulating words
inspiring me to stand on time-smoothed stone
and sing epic tale of philosophers
who formulate conceptual platitudes.

Our spinning world weaves matrix of the mind
through neural network of our dreaming brains
so we form corporate gangs of nation-states
to fight each other over paradise
in brutal wars that leave everyone dead
till we build United Nations of Earth.

I hear the anguished cries of mortal kings
who strive to organize aggressive tribes
to build empire of wealth-resource control
when Time sends Death to drag their souls to Hell
for daring to create Heaven on Earth
contrary to fate-machinery of stars.

To save our nation from invading gangs
we search the waste land of hungry despair
to find the holy mountain made of salt
where fierce Pazuzu spreads broad wings of flame
to drink the blood of soldiers killed in wars
till Ishtar casts him down from cave of lies.

Our Earth is spinning faster in the void
so we race fast against atomic clock
to build the changeless sprawling maze of myths
where gods of every world religion dwell
embodied as all humans alive now
who feast together in grand hall of wealth.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus strums lyre of Mercury that flashes lightning storms across the sky when people dance in purple haze of myth to feel the Earth spin faster in our hearts.

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

Joyful Road Of Forever
© Surazeus
2025 07 21

When the clock on the wall runs out of time,
all the people in town walk through locked doors
and journey alone on the road of forever
to gather in the field where horses sing
so they can hold moonlight in hopeful hands
and give away every dream they hold dear.

If they wander without eyes in willow trees
to find the white raven with seven eyes,
they may get lost on the road of forever
when the laughing man who lives in the oak
brings the bleeding book to the empty church
because they want to buy hope from dead gods.

Though bells of sorrow ring across the land
to lead the lonely people without doors
down along the signless road of forever,
they stop and ask the lady of the lake
for the secret of the sword in the stone,
but she steals all the dreams they leave behind.

Trapped in flash of the television screen
with the faceless ghosts of the dream machine,
the girl who waits on the road of forever
crochets galaxies of pulsing black holes
from threads of fate still tangled in our hearts
since we want to follow the laughing horse.

Because the girl with flowers in her hair,
who almost drowned in the river of tears,
maps world network for the road of forever,
the handless boy who wants to play guitar
hitchhikes to the city of crowded bars
though the spider witch has stolen his voice.

When the people of the town with no doors
gather together in the field of skulls,
Phoebus arrives on the road of forever
to stand on the stage where actors perform
to sing about the girl with star-gold eyes
who keeps the cat of love safe in her heart.

Yet wheels of cars transform into new clocks
which calculate cost of redemptive faith
when we escape on the road of forever
though refugees from failed states crowd the way
because we never find the Promised Land
that appears at the core of every map.

Far from locked door where all journeys begin
by dark caves where the sun has never shone,
we follow the joyful road of forever
to build ten million homes along the way
where our children will open the locked door
and gather on the river shore to sing.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus supervises the crew of dwarfs that pave the road of forever which leads every lost wanderer back home.

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

Paper Castle Towers
© Surazeus
2025 07 21

I will float gently into the good night
after tromping around the world of dreams
for eighty years from sea to shining sea,
parading with fairies, weirdos, and freaks
in grand procession lead by Dionysus
to break down the walls of Heaven with song.

Dancing at the Oregon Country Fair,
I drink star-angel mead from the rainbow fairy
whose golden eyes reflect eternity,
so I transform into the Spotted Owl
and glide ten million years in mountain woods
till I return to my frail human body.

When I ask the rainbow fairy at dawn
why we are born to struggle in this world,
she smiles and gives me diamond of her heart
in which I see the universe evolve
as galaxies spiral from the first flash
to nurture planets teeming with god souls.

Awake from theory of the floating mountain,
I build transcendent bridge no one can cross
where billions of ghosts gather in gold mist
to hide their sorrows in pockets of time
beneath the strawberry clouds of true faith
so we can live in paper castle towers.

She asks me if I understand the truth
about how water always flows downward,
but I gaze through the mirror of my mind
to watch the beautiful people of pain
paint their faces with blood-colored stripes
while Orpheus plays lyre of Mercury.

Descended from enormous dinosaurs,
the gold-eyed sparrow in the silver birch
sings sweetly of romance that fills our hearts
with shimmering shadows of the mirror mind
that helps us thinking apes accept the fact
that we are not gods and we all will die.

Dress in light yellow gown of lace and love,
black-eyed Shulan twirls by the fountain pool,
then gives me orchid of her lonely heart
so we hold hands and stroll along the river
where Queen Sequana gives us pears to eat
while seer Belenus prophesies our future.

Assembling in sacred Ring of Brodgar,
we palm our hands and hum in harmony
as Kwan Yin floats on white swan-wings of faith
to bestow blessing of wisdom on us
who write our secrets in the book of truth
as we float gently into the good night.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus proclaims in his first sermon after election as President of the Thirteenth-day Adventurist Church that we are not gods and we all will die.

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

Hidden Cave Of Faith
© Surazeus
2025 07 20

Emerging from ceaseless stream of my thoughts,
eyes flashing with ten-billion-year-old stars,
I watch people work on the river shore,
and give each person their most secret name
that I cradle as treasure in my hands,
then return to my hidden cave of faith.

Put out my eyes and I will never see you,
seal up my ears and I shall never hear you,
break my arms and I can never embrace you,
and with broken feet I can never go find you,
but close my mouth with anguish of my heart
yet I will call your name with words of truth.

Collecting stones from the deep river bed
along with the bones of demons and gods,
I create new words that convey my thoughts
so seeds of truth bloom in flowers of love
which spur my heart to sing in odorous woods
in harmony with the cloud-soaring lark.

Thick veil of tree branches conceal my vale
from endless torrent of afternoon rain
till I reach out my timorous hands of hope
to grasp the golden shafts of light that fling
eternity through radiant glow of faith
whole stone-smoothing water croons me to sleep.

No matter how far I search in the world,
climbing mountains and striding along rivers,
I will never find myself anywhere,
so I create myself from words I speak
since I realize I am where I am now,
always dreaming strange beauty of this life.

When the Guardian of Dreams in long black gown
wanders the endless landscape of my heart,
with moon-white lily in her gentle hand,
I offer apples I steal from the snake,
so I feel vastness of this shivering world
when she smiles bright as lightning at midnight.

When our souls touch with respectful desire,
the great chord of the universe sings clear
with deep vibration of the pulsing star
that tunes our hearts in harmony with time
so we become one flash of ecstasy
wound tight in matrix of conceptual love.

My heart mirrors image of your pure soul
with heavy honesty of selfless love
that forms the sturdy ship of mutual trust
which bears us safely through the deadly storm
for we are alone together on Earth
in consecrated passion of our love.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus gives apples to Ophelia as he rows their river boat to the shore of the fishing village where everyone gathers for the evening feast.

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

Maze Of Edinburgh Castle
© Surazeus
2025 07 20

Having lived in the cold Castle of Maidens
in lush dale on jagged hill of Alauna
for one thousand winters of swirling snow,
I can comprehend weird song of the wind
that details endurance of humankind
as we strive to evolve into star gods.

Three thousand summers ago I arrive,
sailing from Phoenicia to land of Eydin,
and build stone ziggurat on castle rock
where I reign with spirit of Queen Shapash,
commissioned to maintain Lamp of the Gods
preserving eternal Flame of Shahar.

When Wotan climbs slope of the rocky hill
he finds graceful woman with long black hair
who brews sweet honey mead in large brass cauldron
beside round pool before the tall stone tower
where ravens flap black wings of certitude
as he drapes warm wolf-fur cloak on her shoulders.

Each spring equinox eve at the full moon
the Wotadini in lush lands of Eydin
gather in the dale on hill of Alauna
and listen to young dancing women sing
to crown our May Queen for the coming year
while Wotan presides over the tribe feast.

After living in the Castle of Maidens
one thousand years with chirping birds and apples,
I replace my green silk gown of the princess
with white linen dress of the kitchen cook,
and escape Prison of the Patriarchy
to sail with Pilgrims to the Promised Land.

Now three hundred years later my heart aches
to walk again gray halls of whistling wind
that wind in the maze of Edinburgh Castle
where my spirit had dwelled three thousand years
with singing skull of Orpheus in my hand
so I can read runes gleaming in the sky.

When Ophelia returns from the woods,
gathering herbs along Water of Leith,
she asks me if I remember the hour
the world was born from womb of Mother Earth,
so I strum strings of my polished Clarsach
and sing the Lay of Margaret Queen of Alba.

Illusions of our national legacy
flash in the hopeful mirror of my eyes
till pretty fantasies of ancient times
dissipate in glow of the noonday sun
which luminates tall oak trees in my yard
as I hum spells with weird song of the wind.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus climbs castle wall to window of the room where Ophelia lives, so they embrace and plan how to escape the Castle of Maidens and sail to start new lives in America.

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

Greatest Hero Who Laughs
© Surazeus
2025 07 19

The greatest hero in history of Earth
keeps crumbling into frail statue of dust,
so I paint his name on the highway sign
that leads the eager crowd of worshippers
to the huge mountain cave where he was born
where they all bow before his singing skull.

Lounging on the back porch of the old pub
beside the river where boats glide at dusk,
the greatest hero ever plays guitar
and sings sad ballad of the tragic fate
the hero always meets on path of life
while people drink beer and chat about sports.

Fingers dancing lithely on the typewriter,
the greatest hero who has never died
writes novels about the heroic fool
who always seems to fail at all he does
and hurts the woman who loves him with care
against the better judgment of her heart.

Fixing engines in the cluttered garage,
hands covered in grease from adjusting parts,
the greatest hero no one hears about
helps people get their cars back on the road
so they can go about their busy lives
driving in circles where gray rainbows cry.

Talking to the clock in trunk of the oak
that opens portals to the multiverse,
the greatest hero who wears mask of God
enters ring of stones in the forest glade
where Oberon and Titania host parties
to play the lyre of Mercury and sing.

Sailing his boat along the River Styx
to catch Cetus and roast his steaks for lunch,
the greatest hero fishing for the dragon
rescues Orpheus and Ophelia
from drowning in the flash flood from rain storms
and takes them to the slopes of Mount Parnassus.

Stringing the sacred Damul Bow of Buryeo,
which he finds in the jewel mines of Hades,
Orion fires arrow of authority
that pierces heart of the cruel dragon Smaug,
then challenges Jesus for the world throne
to rule the United Nations of Earth.

The greatest hero who laughs at blind death
stands guard at pearly gates of paradise
and stares at faces of people who pass
till they all blur into serpent of faith
that slithers hissing in the Tree of Life
as he punches the mirror of illusions.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus finds Orion guarding the gates of paradise in a daze from the vast and endless flow of human history where all fights for power end when everyone dies.

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

Huge Heart On Pluto
© Surazeus
2025 07 18

Since planets are no more than clumps of dirt
that spin relentlessly in void of faith,
I plan to build crystal palace of hope
in the middle of the huge heart on Pluto
so I can sail sea of nitrogen ice
where Nuwa loves to dance in silver waves.

In the darkening twilight of my life,
I revert to the salamander mind
as I crawl rugged mountains of white rocks
to find the tree of knowledge with ripe fruit
that shimmers bright with holy light of truth
high on the mountain of aggressive hope.

West of the mighty Mississippi River
I stand on high plateaus of quiet stars
and listen to the flowers of mankind
sing solemn hymns to calm domestic life
while soldiers clutching guns of arrogance
stare shocked at splendid beauty of the sun.

Through solitude of primal sanities
I worship Nature of incessant birth
with ceaseless excitement of ancient cries
that hail great populations of the land
who trample garden of the holy fool
while seeking to escape his reckless play.

Ascending ghastly mountain of the mind
as phantom moon with sharp amethyst eyes,
I seek salvation through creative force
of generating souls from womb of Earth
whose large transparent face of loyalty
illuminates the timeless vale of tears.

Prophetic voice from carnage of the war
which affects to solve the problems of freedom,
vibrates from buzzing radios of fear
which urges me to guard Columbia
who leads revolution of honest souls
victorious against grim nationalists.

With whizzing bombs exploding from book words
Orion runs across the smoking field
to bring last message of the fallen warrior
to the stone-eyed king on his throne of gold
who feasts on blood of innocence and hope
while asking the moon to cleanse our state guilt.

I fly not from Paumanok on crow wings
but stand instead on abandoned hillfort
and listen to the bloody flag of hope
flap with the voice of people killed in wars
who crowd around me in the summer night
because I carry banner of the cause.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus finds his son Orion wandering in the waste land of the huge heart on Pluto, so they sit on the vast dusty plain and play chess.

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

Build Shadow Homes
© Surazeus
2025 07 18

The bee that hides in anguish of my tongue
leads me to river of the singing stone
where three horses drink lost tears of the world
so we put on our hats of ardent hope
and dance with passion of the disappeared
to build shadow homes on the signless road.

The window that reflects my unseen face
floats in the air without its framing home
awake with words children scribble in dirt
so we hold pencils in our crippled hands
and write false stories of our broken hearts
to build shadow homes among writhing trees.

The shadow of my home glows on the grass
but I cannot with telescope of faith
find that sacred home my grandfather built
so I carry its door on my bent back
and walk over seven hills to the sea
to build shadow homes where rain never falls.

The broken lyre that dangles from my hand
reverberates with songs no angel sings
though this face that looks at me is not me
so I carve mask with mocking satire grin
that leaves me and becomes its own weird soul
to build shadow homes in vast maze of myths.

The tangled string of memory I hold
forgets the story of my random life
encoded in folk songs gods never sing
so I watch children play tag in the park
far from the battlefields of politics
to build shadow homes in the twilight zone.

The agitation of the aging fool
who still insists he is king of the world
crackles secret codes on the radio
so I erase news of all tragic deaths
from cluttered streets where superheroes roam
to build shadow homes on the avenue.

The winter sky of fractured puzzle plates
depicts the wise sage still roaming the world
after six thousand years of selling pears
so I collect frail bones of dinosaurs
on which our ancestors carved shopping lists
to build shadow homes by the bridge of hope.

The distance I must walk to find my mask
that hangs on museum wall of wise fools
keeps stretching rainbows of ambitious angst
so I conceal my spirit in blank words
that clatter marble-mirrored in your hand
to build shadow homes without walls or doors.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus builds new home on shore of the River Styx where Ophelia and their children Orion and Ostara live beside the orchard of pear trees where niker-sprites flutter on gossamer wings.

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

Illusion Machine Of Faith
© Surazeus
2025 07 17

Since whispers of the stopped clock cannot show
why wind casts no shadows of absent friends,
I try to find imaginary God
in cracks of my forgetting to explain
why light molds matter in organic brains
that conjure virtual model of the world.

This chair where I sit alone every day
to write the scripture of my holy faith
will glow with absence of my long-dead soul
that blinds the children of the singing sea
who hide photos of the future I dream
so I can understand why I am not.

Each morning the first mother of mankind
bakes apple pies for everyone to eat
so we explore beyond the gates of Heaven
to organize the wild desire of nature
in cosmic garden of the humming girl
who invents language for children to play.

Untethered from timed spinning of the Earth,
I try to soar on wings of Icarus
above the maze of myths where worshipped gods
search for believers to entrance with lies,
so I become sly serpent in the tree
who tempts the young to invent their own truth.

Sweet smell of lavender after spring rain
tempts me to forget political games
when paranoid men with weapons of death
assert they are incarnation of God
commissioned to enlighten men with faith,
so I breathe spirit of enlightened love.

Emerging from stiff words of story books
with lithe assertion of the star-light song,
I reassemble building blocks of bliss
to cast enormous castle of state power
which crumbles in the wind of honesty
and leaves us wandering on the wordless beach.

With childhood wonder devils cannot fathom
I play the action figure who transcends
languid sorrow of cool museum halls
where portraits of rich people hang on walls
that pulse with vibrant energy of hope
which powers illusion machine of faith.

From random elements of chaos streams
I design meaning through meaninglessness
to guide my journey across the waste land
so I can free Prometheus from his chains
so he can teach me how to build airplanes
with wings of Icarus I forge from facts.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus carves idols of millions of gods from oak wood and lines them on the window sill of his house by the electric sea.

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

Space Of Wordless Seem
© Surazeus
2025 07 16

Stark voice of loss that echoes in the room
reveals expansive space of wordless seem
contrived by obvious lesson of false peace,
though we recall through prayers that never cease
relentless waves of time that beat our hearts
with subtle pulse of shadow-beaming parts.

Should my confusing memories of your face
vanish from my dream book without a trace,
I might miss one last chance to be redeemed
before blinding gloss of fate is condemned
because I dare to play the sacrament
decoded from tropes of my testament.

Our children whirl in circles of wild joy
inside library of the manic toy
who leads procession of the holy fool
through sorrow-cracked doors of the empty school
too late to earn redemption from the crow
who leads our journey in the bloody snow.

Still bent in concentration of the clown,
Morpheus ponders why our thoughts contain
ideal illusions rendered through fraught verse
based on brilliant wings of the sourceless curse
erasing splendor our teachers acquire
from haze of radiance on the ocean shore.

Bright diamonds we extract from rancid caves
declare balanced uselessness of sad waves
for how the shadow god born in hot mud
lingers on buzzing margin of the wood,
caught in fitful gusts of suggestive wind
long after we escape from tricks of the mind.

Each spiraled episode of manic speech
that motivates my laughter on the beach
conceals assertive ambulance toward death
uncalculated through words of the wraith
who sends snowflakes of pointless provenance
wound tight by axis of trapped innocence.

Expansive cosmos cluttered with frail worlds,
crowded like Earth with coltish cosmic heralds,
churns planets from eclectic womb of fate
so we join pageant with the horse-trot gait
though lacking trepidation to stretch time
enough for angels to cleanse hate of slime.

No lady now with stolen wings of pain
climbs stairway to Heaven in bitter rain,
so we assemble in the ring of stones
to worship skeleton of dragon bones
in ritual that revives Goddess of Truth
who appoints me cautious messiah sleuth.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus finds Goddess of Truth at the foot of the stairway to Heaven, who is hesitant to get trapped in the celestial court by the old god jealous of her unwanted fame.

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

True Lamp Of Diogenes
© Surazeus
2025 07 16

When I find true lamp of Diogenes
in the antique shop on Tripodon Street,
half-hidden behind the albatross wing
and the typewriter that Elytis owned,
I buy it for thirteen dollars from Hermes,
then wander weird streets of America.

With lamp of Diogenes in my hand,
and wisdom of Athena in my heart,
I walk maze of streets in America
to find the honest man who knows the Why
that programs atomic clock of the brain
to conjure virtual model of the world.

Approaching giant statue in the square
where we once fought for truth and liberty,
I see its head is cast from gleaming gold
that casts glow of charisma on the world,
but its feet are frail clumps of crumbling clay,
so the tyrant will topple from its greed.

Ascending steps of the grand Capitol
that shines on top the hill of global power,
I search its politician-crowded halls
and legislative chambers of firm desks,
but find no honest man with generous heart
among the vampires wearing clean blue suits.

Riding elevators in tall glass towers
to visit hushed headquarter offices
that manage global corporate companies
where thousands of accountants and salesmen
analyze data on spreadsheets of hope,
but not one sees the clear light of my lamp.

When solemn light of credit flickers out
in gusts of change from world-sweeping events,
I rekindle frail flame of fantasy
that radiates from lamp of Diogenes
so I may see the fortune-mapping way
through ever-shifting labyrinth of fate.

Just as I almost give up futile hope
of ever finding the one honest man
who could preside our complex nation-state,
I find in shadow of the timeless book
brave Goddess of Justice and Liberty
who tries to avoid political games.

When clear light from lamp of Diogenes
reveals face of the woman I respect,
whose star illuminates the firmament,
I give her scroll with message from our hearts
imploring she save us from tyranny
and restore our democracy of faith.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus implores Athena to campaign for President of Zarathia to drive out the tyrant and restore democracy to land of America.

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

Blind Hunger For Wealth
© Surazeus
2025 07 15

I wonder if I will be notified
when compassion saves my soul from despair,
or if I will be required to abide
in strange land of the electrified chair
which cracks foundation of our old world view
to shelter our souls in home of the true.

Subtle ding of change that alerts my heart
wakes me from sharp shock of the horror show,
so I consult the ever-shifting chart
to find the river where my angels row
fractured ship of state to the Promised Land
where I enforce rules with my red right hand.

Considered too weird for the normal play
where every lost soul knows their special role,
I build enormous castle out of clay,
then cover its weakness with sheets of gold
which shine with illusions of social power
while I hide paranoid in my glass tower.

With grand army of robots without brains
I conquer the world of rabbits and wolves
when I free people from religious chains
and show them how the human race evolves
through each generation of clever fools
who design more efficient killing tools.

After I defeat the vampire and his goons
to free zombies from blind hunger for wealth,
I build new empire on established tunes
so instead of brute force I rule through stealth,
contriving tricks that fool them to believe
I am the world savior who helps them grieve.

Eccentric spider demon of my brain
weaves vibrant matrix of conceptual truth
from fruit trees that embody tears of rain
so I appear as your messiah sleuth
with vast galactic eyes of flashing spells,
entrusted to purify water wells.

Afraid I will burden you with my fear
and cause you harm with my aggressive faith,
I ride into exile on the white deer
to channel psychic wisdom of the wraith
that would save my nation from brutal war
because I just want to run my bookstore.

When Midas steals gold medal of my fame
and tries to claim bright glory of my deeds,
I misdirect attention of his game
to break his power with small apple seeds
so we can dwell in peace of paradise,
free from world-destructive greed of his vice.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus leads army of ghosts to drive Midas from the ziggurat of world power so he can found the United Nations of Earth where every person lives equal in the law of self-control.

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

Watchmaker Of Lost Time
© Surazeus
2025 07 15

The fallen tree in the forest of names
sends nurse of sorrow to look after me,
and give me darkness with hands of cold fire
so mushrooms of wisdom sprout from my brain
which spawns from ghostly silence of my heart
wild children who gaze at me with strange eyes.

Awake as the Watchmaker of lost time
in my garden home near Vesuvius,
I whisper spells to counter jinx of faith
that unwinds beautiful vision of Earth
my mind creates from random memories
to forget god of unbearable truth.

Amazed by beauty of the butterfly
who transforms into the lame-footed girl
wearing long white gown of delicate lace,
I accept sweet tangerine of her heart
then shelter her from storms of daily life
while she crafts rainbows into pearls of light.

Minerva caresses his cheek with love
as Sylphus weeps for each raindrop of light
that dissolves with beauty of everything,
then holds his hand as they stroll by the lake
and listen to the crickets in the reeds
sing the names of souls who have lived and died.

Despite strange calculus of honesty
he calculates from bitter words of kings,
sly Sylphus steals fruit from the Tree of Life
and gives them to the girl with moon-black eyes
who bakes them into pies with cinnamon
which hungry people stand in line to buy.

When hopeless horror at the state of life,
that twists our nation with harsh tyranny,
cripples her mind with depression from fear,
Minerva hibernates in hollow cave
to nurture tender passion of her heart
so she can emerge reborn from despair.

Lost in the darkness of the holy woods,
where pictures of gods on trunks of old trees
reflect various aspects of her vast soul,
Minerva spins in tapestry of truth
random events from tragic human lives
so we pretend this world is paradise.

Though the dead seem to live in memories
that flash as visions in our aching hearts,
they all will vanish as dust in the wind
when we too sink in dreamless sleep of death
so, since all memories will disappear,
I treasure them in my still-living mind.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus and Ophelia visit Sylphus and Minerva at their home beneath the rumbling mountain to eat apple pie till the end of the world.

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

Since Love Survives All
© Surazeus
2025 07 15

We must love one another, though we die,
I hear the mordant oak-tree wizard cry,
for even love is not stronger than death
just because two statues in a cold stone church
hold hands for six hundred years of fierce wars,
yet love survives all our vicissitudes.

This naked passion from sharp tender shock,
that reveals instinctual capacity
for humans to ignite new flames of love
each time we face terrible circumstance,
tears mask of irony off our love-pulsing soul
so we lie exposed to self-mockery.

Mature sophistication of contempt
through ambiguity of earnestness
shields hearts against ecstatic utterance
with barbed irony of moral respect
which we erect around vulnerable minds
to erase consolatory shame of hope.

Though bitter men with guns of mindless rage
rampage across the landscape of our faith,
arresting innocent people they deem
threats to their weakly false authority,
our love for people living in this land
gives our hearts strength to fight their tyranny.

Though we are all strangers in this strange land,
immigrating from many different lands,
where blood-bound nations unify for strength,
we share one basic principle of faith
that every person living on this globe
has equal rights to liberty and justice.

They try to crush our knowledge institutes
to destroy our world view of measured truth,
for ignorant people are easy to rule,
but we share wisdom our forefathers gleaned
to compose new scripture of global truth
that guides our creative progress with facts.

By wielding sword of truth with fearless faith
that love conquers all arrogant contempt
we find ambiguous courage to defend
rights of every human on spinning Earth
to live free from exploitation of greed
as we build Garden of Eden for all.

We must love one another, though we die,
expressing intense energy of hope
because we create, rather than destroy,
garden of fruit where every human being
lives free to pursue their creative dream,
since love survives all our vicissitudes.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus drinks beer with Larkin and Auden as they discuss recurrent rise of fascist thugs who try to exert power of tyranny to exploit the people for their personal gain out of fear of love.

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