Mystic Of The Absolute
© Surazeus
2026 04 20

Considered mystic of the absolute,
shy Sylphus mounts the wingless horse of pain
and flies with casual fear to Camelot
where Daedalus invents mortgage machine
to maintain neutral stance of spectral pride,
silver with shadow of the deified.

Supreme assurance of arrogant vote
presents voyeur of our trademark concern
for which Wonder Minion will play the bait
that lures blind vampire to deserted barn
where he is forced to milk the money cow
while Gabriel operates the dream plow.

Threshold of welfare, troubled to transform
bodies of children to robots of faith,
denies attempts to cross unvoltaged term
we urban ghosts decide erases myth
despite transference of the ego mask,
tempted to drink sweet soma from the flask.

Recording process of world social storm
that shatters institutes of global peace,
brave Sylphus visits temple without charm
where grim Amaterasu names her price
for selling sacred bronze mirror of souls
in place of demon apples in cracked bowls.

Insurance, designed to protect the mind
from induced improvement jesters proclaim,
liquidates stolen assets without brand
controlling interest in the money game,
yet Sylphus asks Aurora with star eyes
if she will help him organize their spies.

Increase of hybrid machines on the road
defies logic contrived by weeping bards,
so Sylphus proclaims Gospel of the Toad
whose spiral-rainbow eyes of sacred chords
hypnotize loyal followers of Zarth
whom they proclaim is Emperor of Earth.

Major placement of protein packages,
as proxy partnership of brain perfume,
reveals location of sad hostages
who prefer to contest for global fame
as if they think they can evade the curse
that opens portals to the multiverse.

Reborn as mystic of the absolute,
lithe Sylphus surfs huge waves of social change
while on world tour to play demonic flute
with Artemis as quantum queen of grunge,
then in the Green Room when the play is done
they eat pineapple pizza of the gun.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus delivers pizza to the temple of mad gods where Sylphus and Amaterasu dance while Gabriel directs the orchestra.

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

Angel Of Star Fire
© Surazeus
2026 04 20

Startled awake by angel of star fire,
who haunts our nation with wings of despair,
I lounge on my back porch and play guitar
while King Midas destroys America
so he can crown himself king of the world,
but he drowns when he tries to walk on water.

Inspired by hymn from angel of star fire,
we gather at the river of cracked skulls
that floods city mazes with crystal tide
which flows by the electric throne of Death
where wood statue of God erupts in flames
when Aaron casts serpent wand in the grass.

Longing to fly with angel of star fire,
I race bicycle down steep hill of hope
with arms of faith outspread to imitate
eagerness of Icarus to transcend
mundane routines of daily rituals
designed to maintain life through self-control.

Eager to play with angel of star fire,
I carve chess pieces from statues of gods
which I found buried in mud of the well
so we perform our roles on stage of power
to protect Liberty in the High Tower
where she sings with blue bird of bitterness.

Trapped in life maze with angel of star fire,
who sits on crystal throne of glowing clouds
beneath binary rainbow of respect,
I refract currency of my star soul
through prism heart of her kaleidoscope
when Minerva returns from Cave of Truth.

Freed from prison by angel of star fire,
I map whole history of our human race
on time-animated atlas of Earth
so we can navigate landscape of ghosts
to build from ruins of America
new land of justice called Zarathia.

Deployed to war by angel of star fire,
I wield Excalibur with clumsy grace,
as warden who guards the garden of God,
which I forged from stone in Cave of Illusions
to lead world revolution of the caring
against all tyrants and kings in glass towers.

Reborn from fear as angel of star fire,
I stand on ziggurat of Mother Ishtar
to strum the lyre of Mercury with faith
when she casts spell of brave enlightenment
to prevent Midas from fracking the world,
so we join United Nations of Earth.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus performs role as angel of star fire in world drama of international politics by guiding messiahs to overthrow tyrants and give the people power.

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

Willing River Of Love
© Surazeus
2026 04 20

Crawling from coffin of his character,
Delmore explains to Queen Elizabeth
that he is Phoenix of the broken clock,
reborn from jester of the hungry king
with mission to rebuild castle of glass
where time is the fire in which we learn.

Searching for innocent ghost of Rimbaud
lost in dark labyrinth of Gormenghast,
Delmore steals lute from tomb of Romeo,
then sings old French ballads to passing cars
that cross the Brooklyn Bridge in bitter rain
while Sinatra croons on the radio.

Crouching behind shield of Achilles Christ
to protect us from radiant nothingness,
Delmore cries out to angels in the clouds
who drop bombs on factories in Germany,
then tames the undivided horse of faith
so he can ride the last road back to Rome.

Lounging in cobwebbed tomb of Baudelaire,
Delmore tears pages from his bank account
while catching stones people cast at his head
so he can build new wall for paradise
that traps obsessive ghost of his childhood
in Garden of Eden where none can rest.

Paralyzed by impotence of strange hymns,
that twists his rigid heart with wordless wrath,
Delmore writes unreadable spells of hope
in cafe near post office of mad kings,
asking Socrates for money of faith,
enough to last till the apocalypse.

Baptized clean in willing river of love,
Delmore waits in Black Swan Pavilion
for serene exaltation of the mind
to liberate his body from disgust
through brave emulation of divine lust,
yet names the dead in the Kingdom of Snow.

Directing grand choir of humanity
to sing solemn hymns of empty dismay
that celebrate victory of true love
which shines in us before the morning hour
so we become aloneness of fruit trees,
Delmore plays instruments of ancient song.

Walking calmly through day of April light
to find his Self amid the blaze of change,
Delmore writes new Book of Theodicy
to prove with formula of tangled verse
that goodness conquers evil every day,
till his heart explodes during his swan song.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus and Delmore Schwartz stroll the streets of Manhattan after midnight, chasing the ghost of Rimbaud through maze of the Inferno.

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

Forgetting My Own Face
© Surazeus
2026 04 19

If I end up forgetting my own face,
designed by passion my ancestors felt
while walking bravely against wind of fear,
I might wear mask of Cloud God to conceal
amalgamated nothingness of self
which angels document in clever jokes.

Strolling in field of dandelion flowers,
which explode in wishes of lonely souls,
I ponder nothingness at end of time
that traps me in this temporary body
through which I aspire to climb mountain peaks
as witness to transcendent state of mind.

Because I know no fate of falling rain
while hiding in ruins of paradise,
slouched on huge stones that fell from fractured walls,
I organize list of tasks to complete
in mission to found empire on god skulls
when death bequeaths weird secret of rebirth.

Dark shadow looms above vast maze of streets
where apes in suits play gods in wars of truth
while I drive children from school to graveyards
where they conduct random experiments
to understand how trees bloom rich in Spring
from coffin where the vampire god lies stiff.

If I end up designing my new face
from masks of gods long fallen in disgrace,
I may be forced to wrestle before dawn
eccentric angel of our nation-state
who lives in mansion by polluted lake
as castle capital of Avalon.

True friendship chains our hearts with bitter faith
we try to sell from market stalls of hope
when butterfly god in her chrysalis
hangs from rugged cross on hill of skulls
which sprouts new limbs with apples of the sun
so I sail river boat across the sea.

In noble fight against the tyrant king
we must not falter at the darkest hour
for Justice needs our courage to transcend
schemes of greed rich bankers promulgate
in van attempt to control minds of men
who wake from weird hypnotic trance he spelled.

Ophelia finds lyre of Mercury
rusting on tombstone of last troubadour
whose spirit wakes again inside her brain
so she ascends ziggurat of world fame
to untwist political games of power
with pungent beauty of the psychic flower.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus interviews Ophelia for position of his secretary because he manages new Museum of Intergalactic Art at the University of Zarathia.

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

We Have Not Disappeared
© Surazeus
2026 04 19

Though ocean waves erase our names from sand,
and time dissolves our bodies into dust,
our vibrant characters of baser hopes
will live by fame in stories of old books
far longer than great empires ever last,
but even myths will dissipate in wind.

I hear strange whistle from voice of the moon
as distant echo in shadows of fate,
so I help the blindfolded girl escape
harsh judgement of villagers with stone hands
shocked in rage that she dares defy their rules
till we wander lost in waste land of fear.

Clutching audible objects of true love
that pulse with passion of seasonal hope,
we break through shadow of wordless despair
to fall in lush grass by the sparkling lake,
amazed we managed to evade cruel death
whose bitter rage growls softly after dusk.

We lie beside soft whispered stream of hope
where horses graze among old apple trees,
and think about infinity through time
that spirals forth in never-ending flow
as vast gulf stretching everywhere we look,
concerned we have not disappeared enough.

Bright face in trickling eddies of starlight
appears to watch us from abyss of faith,
so we trade silent thoughts between our eyes
which hang suspended from billowing clouds,
but then weird light illuminates her face
that gleams pure white as mask of bloodless ice.

I sink in lightless gloom of misery
and float on undulating waves of grass
to dream I fly on horse of vanity
away from roaring demon of my heart,
then start awake in gold glow before dawn
to see she transformed into a pond toad.

Indulging happiness of lightning strikes,
I search everywhere through indifferent woods
to find dim shadow of her fragile soul
for thirty years till memory of her face
fades into flicker of leaves in sunlight
as I stare at my own face in the pool.

While eating bitter apple of my heart,
I pause and stare at flicker of the lake
and wonder how she vanished in the light,
the blindfolded girl I rescued from death,
then turn because I think I hear her voice
as I transform into the eyeless crow.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus finds skeletons of two young girls in the desert beside a twisted tree dead a thousand years of relentless wind.

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

Universal Element Of Love
© Surazeus
2026 04 19

Through universal element of love
mindless atoms swirl into galaxies
that weave stars from aggressive fantasy,
then nurture planets blooming ghosts of faith
in spiral coil of genes which replicates
new bodies that evolve from fish to god.

Stuck in this body of frail mortal flesh,
as long as chemicals of this lithe form
function through interaction of bright sparks,
I maintain forward motion through desire
to find tree of knowledge with fruit of life
which animates my conscious heart with love.

Ninth Adam, son of Amen and Adad,
breathes gusting air of hope to swell his soul,
then stands on wobbling legs of frantic fear
and stares at giant dragon with gold eyes
that chews bodies of his tribe dripping blood,
and howls with terrible rage of despair.

Wrenching long brass wand with sharp jagged spikes,
that cooled from lava flow at dawn of time,
Ninth Adam rushes forward on fierce legs
and batters face of the dragon with blows
of brave aggression writhing from his heart
till shrieking dragon stumbles to escape.

Tracking bloody steps of the sharp-toothed beast,
Ninth Adam finds in small cave by the lake
wounded dragon cowering in stark fear,
so he bashes its head with lightning strikes
that crushes its skull into bloodied mush,
till he lies exhausted under mute stars.

Hauling wagon with dragon and its eggs,
Ninth Adam enters gates of paradise
where Inanna hosts rites of victory
as Eloh roasts meat on high ziggurat
that feeds five thousand people of the town
who praise dragon-slayer with joyous hymns.

Enrobed with leather cape from dragon skin,
Ninth Adam presides on the judgment throne
to reign as noble guard of paradise,
while Ninshubur bears children of his seed,
then trains his son Zababa to wield spear
as hunter who slays dragons of the sea.

"Through universal element of love,
that fuels our bodies with star energy,"
Ninth Adam explains to his fierce-eyed son,
"we fight evil dragons who eat our minds
so we may generate bodies of flesh
that preserve immortal soul of our hearts."

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus explores ancient ziggurat in crumbling walls of paradise where he finds large skeleton of a dragon in the long-abandoned temple of dead gods.

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

When Pinocchio Wakes
© Surazeus
2026 04 19

When Pinocchio wakes from peaceful dreams
of humming with cool breeze by sparkling lake,
he stares up at the bearded face of God
who sparks life in his heart with breath of love,
then helps him stand and walk on clumsy feet
so he ambulates through his own free will.

Wandering in forest of tall pine trees
that sway in dance from mountain winds of hope,
Pinocchio caresses their rough bark
with hands that sense mute spirit of their trunks,
so he breathes deep and exhales vibrant tune,
expressing visions of his mind in verse.

Ascending mountain trail to gaping cave
where faceless shadow of blind demon glows,
Pinocchio touches large diamond gem,
embedded in stone, resembling his eyes,
where he sees first flash of the universe
which animates his consciousness with love.

"Though I feel trapped in container of flesh,
attentive spirit of my conscious mind
motivates forward motion through my will
as I explore strange landscape of this world
to discover origin of my being
that pulses with atomic flash of light."

Sitting still before bearded face of God
by lake in cave of gems gleaming moonlight,
Pinocchio asks, "Who am I, and how
have I become alive with conscious hope?
I feel bright jewel of immortal soul
pulse with passion at the core of my being."

Eyes blue as sapphires, stuck in cavern wall,
gleam with joy as God looks in his eyes.
"I am Geppetto, Craftsman who carves things
from tree wood, like wagons, houses, and boats.
I am frail mortal father of your soul
for I sparked your life in womb of your mother."

Reaching callused hand with attentive care,
Geppetto caresses face of his son.
"You are lithe mountain fox of joyful play,
wounded by arrow of aggressive hate,
so I extracted jewel of your heart
to animate body of wood I made."

Removing wood mask of his faceless soul,
Geppetto reveals bright spirit of God.
"If you wear person-skin you made too long
you may forget true spirit of your heart,
but your heart will always remember who
you have been since first flash at dawn of time."

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus finds wood puppet lying lifeless in the forest grove by the river, so he inserts glowing ruby in his chest which animates Pinocchio with desire to live.

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

Yellow Wood Of Hope
© Surazeus
2026 04 18

The crumbling stone bridge over the brown river,
on which the statue of the poet stands,
waits for my ghost to cross its wildered way,
humming with gusts of arbitrary wind
that scatters pages of verse from frail hands
so our dreams dissolve into silent song.

Delicate plum stone of my rotten heart,
charred by sad flame of the arrogant lamp,
contains original purpose of life
designed by Raven Witch of Serpent Lake
who brews honey wine in Cauldron of Faith
while chanting hex of wisdom from the stars.

Atomic light of pure love in my cells
began to gleam before our world was born
from frantic swirls of penitential lust
that sparkles carbon molecules to bind
aggressive force of hope with grim desire
which aggregates proverbs in Book of Dreams.

Startled awake by the wrinkle in time,
that folds every universe of my mind
in vibrant matrix through radio waves,
I study flashing quarks in supple words
preserved as letters writhing on white page
that prove ten dimensions spiral through eggs.

When I come to the road less traveled by,
that has never appeared on any map
drawn by Lone Wolf in monastery cave,
I find pregnant woman by the blind oak
who seems to know the secret of my name,
so we walk in the yellow wood of hope.

Alert in classroom full of changeling sprites,
I teach how Mercator projection map
provides the best navigation device
for brave explorers who sail Seven Seas
across ten dimensions of time and space
to colonize the world with fantasies.

My sensitive spirit of eager faith
writhes with rancid bitterness of gloom
when I transverse the endless realm of words
with yearning to retrieve Diamond of Death
by crossing threshold of the Otherworld
that leaves me stranded in my first hometown.

I drift in dreary reverie of fear
to seek asylum in your weary heart
where grief corrupts sagacious honesty
through quaint cathexis in your faceless soul
for which I leap to cross eternity
as swirling shadow of atomic words.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus finds old gray-haired bard standing alone where two roads diverge in the yellow wood of ten dimensions, so they sit by the fire at midnight and think about why.

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

Absence Of Auspicious Love
© Surazeus
2026 04 18

To buy dragon eggs at the grocery store,
I carry magic box of blinking eyes,
reluctant to transcend limits of thought
as if I am the tragic money man
who always stumbles on the muddy road
though I stare at the ghost on the front porch.

To dive in lake of pain before dawn light,
I watch collapsing century resurge
with monstrous tenderness of berry jam
which teaches me importance of dream facts
to avoid the trap of hiding regret
for living blasphemously without pride.

To ransack archives of personal taste,
I dismiss surprises of history
smeared with melancholy colors of hope
which suit my vibrant life style on the town
when I perform dramatic scenes to prove
lessons of survival trick me with wealth.

To relax in burning building of faith,
I write strange thought formulas on chalk boards
that describe how flowers explode from brains
through social ideologies of power
that divide us into factions of blind greed,
impersonal as mountains that drink clouds.

To analyze photographs of blurred ghosts,
I stand beside the stop sign near the park
and count how many chances I have missed
in vain attempts to evade curse of fame
that dogs my footsteps past the Promised Land
till I attend inauguration balls.

To formulate myself as almost real,
I break into meaningless tomb of fear
where skeleton of Jesus, cracked by fate,
crumbles into gold dust of burned-out stars,
so I stand trembling on the global stage
and erase heroes from national myths.

To join my neighbors at the barbecue,
I untwist proverbs from roots of dead trees
disguised as telephone lines of contempt
that beam puzzling riddles to glowing screens
reflecting faces in masks of dead gods
whom we perform all day with reticence.

To try ingenuous mode with bitter guile,
I measure changing contours of the world
where priests lead believers in maze of lies
because in the end every person dies,
for every fake belief in holy books
blinds me to absence of auspicious love.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus fixes the broken door of the abandoned church by the bankrupt refrigerator factory near the railroad tracks of the small midwestern town where grandson of Jesus runs the gas station.

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

She Almost Wonders If
© Surazeus
2026 04 18

She almost wonders if time is not real
based on how water flows through veins of steel
till silver raven, from dim vale she fears,
explains strange magic of machinery gears,
so lame girl walks downside up to her room
where faceless fairies flicker in sad gloom.

She never questions why stars glitter gold
because she savors water that seems cold
while reading romance tales in canny books
that were sewn from butterfly wings by cooks
who hide crystal keys in loaves of hot bread
which she can use to resurrect the dead.

She always asks each ghost their secret name
because she wants to learn their psychic game
which gives her social tools to fool the fools
who gather in workshops to design tools
that devils use to manipulate minds
except for her who loves to feed shy hinds.

She ever wanders garden of fruit trees
in search of new words she can use to tease
grim angel standing guard by jeweled gate
whose sky-blue eyes require she defy fate,
but when she climbs through window of her heart
he flies away without celestial chart.

She often leans in window of high tower
to watch her favorite horse consume star flower,
and dreams of racing swift beyond far hills
to eat fresh apples and drink from clear rills,
but wakes from daydream in gray mirror frame
to smile and pretend she was not born lame.

She mostly paints fierce dragon on ice peak
whose rage is tamed by lame girl who is meek
since she is doomed to inherit the Earth
according to chart of her royal birth,
so she limps quietly down narrow hall
past portraits of ancestors on the wall.

She nearly steps through unlocked door of hope
in frantic mission to expand her scope
by slipping free from castle of despair,
but pauses halfway down steep winding stair
to ponder abstract numbers of blind faith
that help her mind perceive the eyeless wraith.

She rarely thinks about mute nothingness
while waiting on Bridge of Forgetfulness,
so when Rapunzel gains her liberty
she strums taut strings on lyre of Mercury
and sings heart-wrenching psalms of bitter love
while busking in strange towns where she may rove.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus hears heart-wrenching tune so he finds lame girl singing by the fountain in the town square to crowd of people who weep.

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

Organize Electric Beams
© Surazeus
2026 04 18

While stealing apples from the Tree of Life
in Garden of Eden where angels play,
I hear tall woman with long flowing hair
explain that, though the singers may change,
the music goes on for thousands of years,
so I lie on my back and stare at clouds.

If I should disappear from dream of time
my heart will expand its delicate wings
and sing in harmony with flowing streams,
articulating words with tongue of ice
which conjures visions from rumble of thoughts
so we become the truth our minds invent.

When I am amniote at dawn of time
I crawl through shallow stream of trickling light,
imbibing water of cerulean skies,
across sapphires, rubies, and emeralds,
transforming form by climbing tall fruit trees,
so now I stand and talk about my hope.

Attentive flash of primal energy,
that motivates my quest to find fresh fruit,
fills empty nothing of my hungry mind
when missing feature draws me to new state
in constant motion of the absolute
to seek truth that is absent from my heart.

Fierce longing to remember taste of rain
draws me to flashing flicker of the flame
which I contain in ring of glowing stones
because I know they are the fallen stars
that teach me how to label what I see
with words that blaze enlightenment of faith.

Knee-deep in muddy water of the lake,
I move through swirling lichen of desire
to catch elusive fish of secret truth
while hunting demon of excessive wrath
that strikes from tangled limbs of tempting fruit
so I snatch the writhing snake by its neck.

When savage thirst for ecstasy of love
swells huge from pulsing passion of my heart,
I open wide my mouth with tongue of ice
to speak in words of honest sentiment,
but nothing more than howling wind of hope
soars from cage of my soul on wings of light.

Designed by brutal nature of the bog,
I rise from sloshing arrogance of fear
to build enormous towers of steel and glass
so I can organize electric beams
in computer nodes of the world wide web
as I evolve from fish to Cyber God.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus studies fossil remains of the amniote to understand the evolutionary process through which we transform into wingless angels.

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

Celestial Stars Of Truth
© Surazeus
2026 04 17

Uncompromising laughter sinks the boat
when flowers bloom from April blood of fear,
so she stares deep in bullet of the heart
to judge with fake authority of stones,
but she will miss the way dead flowers droop,
subjective thoughts of labor unfulfilled.

Because no yellow cabs of honesty
still gleam in silver fog of bored desire,
Cassandra chews gum by the whisky bar
and hides gun of despair in plastic purse,
but smiles at every stranger in the rain
who give her flowers that wilt before dawn.

Inverse of shadow, ionized by faith,
beams blatant silence at the bookstore lamp
through photographic tricks, which magnify
inert ambition fueling games of chance
which no fool ever wins against the house
that cracks and sinks into the hungry swamp.

Rain splushing loud against her fractured heart
enhances lonely shock of bitter hope
that she decides means nothing to the man
who plays role of her father in the game
untwisting moral laws of fortitude
which encode uncollected jokes of kings.

Critical flame consuming books of tales
frames how the humble tramp in baggy pants
gives scarlet lily to the girl who cooks
meals of eggs, potatoes, and buttered toast
for grim-faced warriors of the Burning Cross
who wage holy crusade against straw men.

Inspired by jagged cliffs, battered by waves
of relentless change, she gathers cracked stones
from bleeding walls of paradise to build
cathedral of contemplation from words
children discard with eurythmic contempt
for rotten leaves of fashion magazines.

Her eyes behind lace curtain of desire
express unspoken passion to share hope,
so he breathes deep celestial stars of truth,
then soars on invisible wings of love,
swooping over phone lines of faceless words,
then lands in garden where she tends fresh herbs.

Enchanted by smile of wisdom she beams,
he listens to soft voice of her strange soul
describe weird vision of peace between tribes,
then gives her brass cauldron he forged from faith
so she cooks stew enough to feed the world
from fish he catches in the mountain stream.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus flies on outspread arms over the small college town while breathing celestial stars of truth to understand the process of love.

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

Reptile Sobek Soul
© Surazeus
2026 04 17

Ever-living fire of the star-soul mind
gleams beautiful happiness in my brain,
so I wear mask of Sobek I designed
to dance with laughter in electric rain
till mad Poseidon shakes the spinning world
which spawns religion of the cosmic herald.

Transcending limits of this transient flesh,
I float in cavern of spiraling gems,
woven by Apollonia through dream mesh
so seven sisters wearing diadems
appear before the crowd of worshippers
and seek to marry loyal Jupiters.

Disguised as Sobek, master of the sea,
I challenge Seth to run for president
in social campaign to crown Liberty
who rallies spirit of the dissident
while we play golf in hills of vanity
by scamming loyalists for charity.

Dancing to wild beat of the forest ghost,
drunk on wine of truth that Bacchus brews,
I sacrifice Black Lamb as temple host
to feed eight billion people evening news
contrived to validate the gods in power
who worship Golden Calf in the glass tower.

Long seaweed hair of emotional vibes
writhe out from head of Tethys in dream web
that weaves her spirit into wandering tribes
who spread from Atlas Mountains of Maghreb
in epic quest to find the Promised Land
where Sobek rules all with his red right hand.

With gentle gestures of conceptual spells,
Tethys fills our hearts with ocean waves
so we vibrate with energy of wells
which radiates runes of wisdom from dank caves
when Jesus and his wife, Empress Mermaid,
enforce fair justice with the law-honed blade.

Connected to white lilies of the field,
that fluoresce beams from silver moon of faith,
my raucous heart expands platinum shield
that protects my people from the cosmic wraith
who morphs me from Sobek to Lucifer
so I bear light as humble troubadour.

When I hear trickle of the waterfall
that sparkles over jagged cliff of time,
I find I have become Prince Parsifal
betrothed to marry graceful Clementine,
so I evolve from Reptile Sobek Soul
with solemn vow to play new honest role.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus officiates wedding of Parsifal and Clementine while Lucifer and Tethys drink wine and whisper jokes about the other guests.

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

Damnitudes Of Donald
© Surazeus
2016 10 10

Now when Donald saw the crowds, he rode
down an escalator in his gold tower.
His christofascist dittoheads came to him,
and he began to teach them the Damnitudes.

Damned are the poor in spirit,
for they are the homeless losers,
failures at corporate business,
and lazy welfare queens
who refuse to get a job
while they live off welfare,
then birth their anchor babies here
to steal our opportunities and jobs.

Damned are those who mourn,
for they abort innocent babies
who could slave in our factories,
and oppose the death penalty
for rebels against our economic power.

Damned are the meek,
for they are constantly fleeced and gipped
by good preachers and honest bankers
who enslave them as uneducated laborers.

Damned are those who hunger
and thirst for righteousness,
for they make laws to protect
everyone not white or straight,
and refuse to let me build a huge wall
to keep all the evil immigrants out.

Damned are the merciful,
for they are bleeding-heart liberals
who coddle the poor with health care,
food stamps, and quality education,
and allow evil immigrants
to invade the walls of our heaven.

Damned are the pure in heart,
for they tax the rich capitalists
and provide benefits for the poor,
then get mad when I do not pay them
for the terrible work they did for me.

Damned are the peacemakers,
for they try to prevent our armies
from conquering foreign nations
so we can steal all their resources
and control the best trade routes.

Damned are those who are persecuted
for righteousness sake,
for they want to take away the tax-free status
of our churches while we get rich
off generous donations of the blind faithful.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2016/10/…

Orpheus and Leo join Minerva to rally the people who oppose the antichrist as they work to build new nation of Zarathia from the ruins of America.

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

Azure Purity Of Being
© Surazeus
2026 04 16

My heart has become the weird moon in the stream
fused with infinity through secret words
that shine as essence at the core of things
which I perceive with telepathic vibe
that dissolves barrier blocking my soul
through impalpable serenity of being.

Struck by hot blood of sunlight on my skin
I stretch beyond horizon of my body
to swirl with soil in water of my brain
that leaves me standing as sky of the world
transformed from light to trees and animals
who blaze with azure purity of being.

Despite joy-twisting despair that we die,
I bloom with disconsolate shock of truth
that we are so alive this vibrant hour
as flames of energy in pulsing flesh
which has evolved four hundred million years,
immortal soul of genes reborn in me.

I am the distant blueness of the sky
which emanates from hard core of the Earth
through swirling passion of beautiful fear
that drives my progress to become myself
till I am not the I I dream I am
because I walk beside me as God Self.

I become the I I find in the world
whose spirit merges with my fragile soul
through strange celestial breath of writhing words
that thread my brain in fabric of all time
when I meet mirror image of myself
who changes into someone else I love.

Growing old on winding road of my life,
where I have wandered nowhere randomly,
I pause and look back at my younger selves
who separate in clones I am no more
as shadows gleaming in each open door
who will remain after I am long gone.

Once I remove all the masks I have worn,
which will always reveal another mask,
I become no one, and yet everyone
who has ever lived on this spinning globe,
so when you search for me in songs I write
you will find nothing but your own true self.

Joining ancient choir of the human soul,
I sing with tongue of the invisible
in harmony with poets of the past
whose dream-maps guide my clumsy way past fear
so I rejoice in beauty of this world
that shines with visible atoms of thought.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus finds Juan Ramón Jiménez by the sea staring at the sky of infinity, so he stands beside him and also stares at the invisible of everything.

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

Silver Swan Of Truth
© Surazeus
2026 04 16

Dark similitude of her image glows
as seraph hovering over me with wings
of ancient wisdom mirrored by the moon
when she appears as silver swan of truth
that sprinkles snow of beauty on my head
so I imagine I am Socrates.

Her timeless eyes that gleam with countless stars
unveil bright nothingness in everything
yet flash through flowing waves of molecules
in sweet harmonious music of the spheres
which oscillate between opposing poles
to weave our souls in matrix of God Mind.

Inspired by Tree of Knowledge by the lake
that dances in soft breeze one hundred years,
I stand as second shadow to her soul
just as the wise seer Theodore foretold
who shows me how to see with dreamless eyes
Realm of Ideas beyond the visible.

With mind untrammeled by religious creeds
I outfly nets of mutability
based on dream map that Theodore designed
by navigating shadows of this world
that bind my soul to limits of my body
though my brain explores weird infinity.

I hitchhike far across the Evening Land
with lyre of Mercury in my left hand,
and on my journey beyond truth I knew
I find out what I am in my world view,
because we blaze in preternatural light
till we all vanish in mute dreamless night.

Since I am made of atoms shining bright
with brave attentive force of selfless love,
I am concept of God we humans made
attempting wake wise inside my brain
which gleams as prism in its neural net
refracting God Mind in my transient self.

Eight billion humans living on this Earth
are every one one fragment of One God
for we all spring from one maternal mind,
First Mother who still dreams inside our brains
since she stood startled by the Lake of Stars
and sang clear visions of her loving heart.

Though driven down the signless road of hope
by bleak despair of hunger for weird truth,
I rise from shadow of my single self
to feel First Mother wake inside my mind
so I expand scope of bright consciousness
to sing with joy while knowing I will die.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus stands with Theodore Roethke under the oak tree, strumming lyre of Mercury while he recites his verse with Cassandra Voice.

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

Vibrant Flash Of Faith
© Surazeus
2026 04 15

If she knows why stars incarnate as flowers,
she hides the secret as math formulas
in the chemistry textbook of her heart,
and only smiles while we dance to the music
that radiates from the singing stone of truth
which flashes mirror eyes of lonely souls.

Since she remembers why the Javan Myna
taught her how to fly when she was still young,
she fries corned beef sandwich on sourdough bread
with sauerkraut, Swiss cheese, and island dressing,
which we enjoy with sharp Italian wine,
after which we sit on the porch and ponder.

Because she has nothing special to prove
concerning strange color of innocence,
she rides silver bike to the river shore,
where nothing dramatic ever occurs,
to paint secret faces of the Blue Sky
as shimmer reflected in the road pool.

Confident she contains crowds of blind ghosts
who encode her secrets in photographs,
she sails small river boat on gleaming waves
where choir of fish sing cosmic melodies
before the peacock with luminous wings
that transforms into proud Queen of the Earth.

Erased by history books she never reads,
she cooks to feed her children with calm care
and cleans their clothes so they can play their role,
till she becomes the body of their house,
enclosed inside polished box of her heart,
which she takes with her when she walks away.

Drunk from imbibing spiced Dragon Brain Wine,
brewed from honey and psychedelic mushrooms,
she flies broom of the oak tree among clouds
to feed expansive emptiness of truth
with swirling energy contained in fruit
that weaves memories of gods in her brain.

Inspired by flood of the apocalypse
that smashes institutions of state power,
she surfs tsunami waves of social change
with grim elation of justice for all
when she embraces vibrant flash of faith
to help Nature cleanse our world of cruel hate.

Unaware I requite her secret feelings,
she scrapes raw skin of passionate desire
against granite fortitude of my heart
so we savor transient bliss of pure love
that wakes our hearts with vibrant flash of faith
before we grow old and decay to silence.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus paints portraits of Ophelia in various poses of being the most fabulous woman on Earth, then they eat sandwiches together in the evening.

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

Immodest Seraph Of Fate
© Surazeus
2026 04 15

Because stars have names that describe their glow,
I walk around the neighborhood of doors,
curious about angels who occupy
empty rooms where faceless people consider
why secret smudge in the back of our souls
obscures celestial light inside our brains.

Though I realize the longest way back home
is thirteen times around our spinning globe,
I live with circus of the weeping clown
on lost island where oranges are not bombs
designed by immodest seraph of fate
who charges me for parking in her garden.

Nothing is spotless in house of desire
except the screaming clock of happiness
that teaches me to count eternity
as blind apprentice stuck at the crossroads
where sapphire of intensity gleams eyes
of time-entangled gods in human flesh.

When I break open fresh-baked loaf of bread,
searing light of the condensed sun expands
scope of memory flashing through my brain
so I remember stumbling in dark rain
because huge shadow of the angry man
lurks behind gate of home my father built.

Discolored scene of urgent lassitude
defeats perverse order of faded prayers
stalled by gracious flowers of fragile chimes
that trap me outside my own space and time
as if my face reveals continuum
through dramatic suddenness of soft waves.

Fear hesitates to antagonize honest souls
who float suspended in sequestered state
between survival and global success
based on refreshing absence of desire
to question how verbal systems of truth
reframe old events with new moral laws.

Disinterested in tactics of regret,
I measure how the storm of social change
transforms weariness of the hungry world
to special promises through rivalry
unique to our obsessive age of hope
where people sell motives to stay alive.

Mirage of paradise that blinds our eyes
presents potential hazard to the heart,
explained by immodest seraph of fate
as fashion brokered by the searching soul
based in arguments carved on cliffs of faith
since we never meet at the broken door.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus helps John Ashbery tape pages of discombobulated prophecies written by the Revelator on museum walls between famous paintings.

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

Hungry Crow Of Truth
© Surazeus
2026 04 12

Erased by laughter of the waterfall,
I wander to work at the grocery store
where I stock shelves with cans of vegetables,
then climb in dead oak tree by the highway
and pretend I am the hungry crow of truth
who solves math riddles of the eglantine.

From my perch in the city park I see
eight hippies sit in circle on the grass,
wearing headbands with flowers in their hair,
who sing hymn Where Have All the Flowers Gone
with mercurial voices of revolution
while bearded Jesus strums guitar of truth.

While riding El Camino on glass highway
across Mojave Desert in July,
I hear that god Apollo and his friends
have landed on bright mirror of the moon
to visit God and his exotic cat
who shows them how to run the universe.

Extreme perfection gained by stealing rain
inspires my heart to photograph the face
that God wears as he plays the human race
based on experience of the pioneers
who earn their privilege through suffering
that they endure while stealing pristine land.

Old bearded preacher wearing long black cloak
declares that God is energy of light
that animates each atom through the void
so everything we do by force of fate
expresses will of God in how we act,
but I insist I live through my own will.

Potential portrait, that depicts my face
as noble prototype of providence,
hangs on museum wall of reverence
that proves all my accomplishments of faith
place me on pinnacle of social games
as prominent goon of society.

Revenue retrieved from fake bank accounts
solidifies my power over truth
when I employ strategic feints of faith
sufficient to enhance my social clout
enough that I play grand symbolic role
as clown crucified by bureaucracy.

Subjective standards of state moral laws
require conditions supportive of faith
taxed by grim priests with sharpened scythes of hope
who sell synthetic prayers of rectitude
contrived by honest therapist of hope
who forges keys of wisdom from despair.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus dances wild while Jesus plays guitar, then asks young hippie girls if they have seen ghost of his body in mists of Avalon.

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

Fruit Of Secret Truth
© Surazeus
2026 04 11

Bewildered by ghosts hiding in blank books,
who beam voices of gods through window glass,
I step outside numberless door of home
and face busy world of ambitious pride
that hides human suffering in sad songs
sung by their tragic angels till they die.

I find no more than shadows of our world
writhing as serpentine ghosts in blank books
to perform roles of long-dead characters
who succeed or fail in finding soul mate
to generate new life before they die
who with Leander swim the lusty sea.

Startled when divine apple tree of truth,
which casts eerie shadow across our land,
transforms into little girl with star eyes,
I walk to town library after work
to read about wind devils of the soul
who become gods chronicled in old myths.

Stripped of their language, homes, songs, and fruit trees,
my ancestors sail across storm-wracked sea
to invade and colonize paradise,
transforming wilderness of mountain woods
to gleaming towers of computer banks
where Mercury plays the Wizard of Oz.

Awake in dreams that flash across my mind,
all my ancestors reperform their lives
in endless loop of strange experiences
which program how I interact with fate,
tricked to believe my special consciousness
will live forever in meme code of poems.

Each drop of water sloshing on our globe
has been ingested by organic beings
four hundred million years of blooming growth,
so this one drop of water in my heart
has animated billions of bright brains
with light that shimmers now in my own brain.

I feel their souls vibrate inside my cells
as seething ocean of spiritual ghosts
who teach me secret of eternal life
is how immortal soul of genes in me
threads all my ancestors in my brain now
that spools from First Mother of humankind.

I ask Persephone to marry me
so she gives me pomegranate to eat,
then we hold hands and lounge beneath the stars
where soul of everyone who ever lives
twinkles blissfully at how we kiss
and give each other fruit of secret truth.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus wakes inside my brain and teaches me to play the lyre of Mercury and sing spells of truth with Apollonian tunes.

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

Wise God We Elect
© Surazeus
2026 04 11

Startled by something unseen in the night,
I exchange my face for the mask of light,
then dance with carefree joy in the grove
where wingless fairies of apple trees rove,
but stop and ponder why men fight for power
and who will marry princess in the tower.

I value beauty of our empty world
that spins in galaxy of stars unfurled
with quaint anticipation that strange tune
vibrates with passion of the writhing rune
lithe as wise serpent in tall tree of fruit
that flutters rainbow wings as I play lute.

To stop blood-thirsty tyrant shooting bombs
that shatter safe homes into boneless tombs
Scheherazade recounts one thousand tales
while strolling secretly on mountain trails,
and then one more about the holocaust
humans commit when paradise is lost.

When massive vibration of human souls
beams rainbow shimmer of intense love goals
with effortless grace of perpetual prayer
by chanting spells that unveil ghoul of fear,
we reach out hands of generous respect
to mold zeitgeist in wise god we elect.

Electric phoenix ghost with crystal wings,
that soars above our river vale of rings,
expresses shrill uncanny song of hope
that teaches me constructive ways to cope
with our volatile time of social change
where moral values shift weird angles strange.

Astonished by world-spin of chemicals
in matrix wound from waves of particles,
I catalog all creatures who exist
with sibylline code in dynamic list,
encrypted by psychotic formulas
through cosmic map of the Americas.

Yet proxy actor who plays Lucifer
insists that I perform as Jupiter
in secret mission to guard paradise
by coding social myths with viral price
which redefines how brave heroic deeds
vector calyx pattern of mental seeds.

Though singers come and go in flow of time
eternal song of true love humans mime
will bloom again each season of the heart
in harmony with notes on the dream chart
composed with blood of angels on the scroll
which I archive as duty of my role.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus and Scheherazade go camping in the Olympic National Forest to hike the mountain trail, fish by the lake of dreams, and eat roasted fish by the campfire under the twinkling stars.

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

Blind Mother Sea
© Surazeus
2026 04 11

When I crawl from womb of blind mother sea,
with brain programmed to sing atomic tunes,
I explore tricky landscape of our globe
over three hundred eighty million years
till I stand on highest mountain of faith
and proclaim myself god in breathing flesh.

Then timeless fortune mocks my haughty pride
and trashes fantasy my brain designs
with cruel indifference of mind-twisting fate
that readjusts attention of my heart
to balance passion with obsessive rites
which I perform to evade strike of death.

Through self-control of scientific verse
I confirm my soul at flash of dire curse
that tricks perception of my curious eyes
with grand illusion based on human deeds
when I restrain assertions of free will
with laws designed to focus lust on truth.

Trapped by conceptual creed of bitter faith,
that bodies made of pulsing molecules
will resurrect from death at word of light,
I escape despair at surprise of truth
that we will disappear to swirls of dust
when our lithe lust-driven bodies decay.

I return to shore of blind mother sea
to hear again in hollow of my heart
relentless melody of surging tides
where I first learned to walk upright on legs
of curious passion to map the whole world,
but weep I am so far now from her song.

We humans have now mapped our spinning globe,
exploring every inch of her landscapes,
fertile plains, lush woods, rugged hills, bleak deserts,
and colonizing vales where rivers flow
with forty eight thousand cities and towns
connected in vast web of signless roads.

Though I have dwelled on surface of the Earth
three hundred eighty million years of hope,
I dream the twenty million years before
I spent deep in womb of the swirling sea,
forever swimming toward pure Eye of Light
whose voice still calls to fly beyond the sky.

I stand on wall that Nehemiah built
from bones of dragons carved in cubes of glass,
and survey lands across our spinning globe
where people gather around fires to sing
while kings in towers play chess games of war
over who controls the blind mother sea.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus sits on large stone by the soul-singing sea and strums lyre of Mercury in harmony with moon-attentive tides of turmoilous peace.

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

Calyx Of Conceptual Code
© Surazeus
2026 04 11

More ardent than how crows explode from rocks
are tangled thoughts of tainted misery
that drive me to walk endless neighborhood
of manufactured homes designed to hide
wolf spirit that lurks in each human heart
with passion to survive fake fantasy.

Though beauty of this energetic world
pulses too bright for my sponge brain to see,
my eyes assert brave effort to perceive
electric essence flushed with quirky light
when I stroll asphalt streets past flowered yards
to listen for gossip of crows in elms.

Binding fierce rage with calm spell of the Way
that swirls deep as ocean waves in my cells,
I float entranced by sudden vernal smells
proclaiming ancient song that Nature writes
with scars on soft bodies of human ghosts
who conceal divine souls with masks of pride.

Though I never return to land of myth
that pulses all around me with sunlight,
I ask Eurydice if she will sing
psalm of darkness that still keeps her alive
thousands of years after she caught the snake
and took it writhing in deep cave of dreams.

Because Eurydice sings the same psalm
that lead her to escape prison jewel mine,
we today can follow glamor of hope
that she exudes on stage of ecstasy
to understand blood moon of soul rebirth
as we replay her tale in church of faith.

Though singers of old tales change every age,
translating ancient dramas for new ways,
strange music of humanity vibrates
forever with each spin of Earth in space
when immortal spirit wears our new face
so Orpheus appears each eighty years.

When we are young and restless with desire
we wander endless roads of fantasy
to design weird role of our destiny
by carving our place in dream of our time,
startled into wisdom by charming chime
that Fortune rings to wake us from our dream.

Now that I play role of my special state
by wandering somewhere to evade my fate,
I analyze fashion of my true self
that blooms in calyx of conceptual code
to understand strange nature of my being
that causes my love-wounded heart to sing.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus introduces Eurydice at the Conference of Resurrectional Poetics, they plays lyre of Mercury while she sings psalms of soul rebirth.

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

Wounded Heart Of Pity
© Surazeus
2026 04 10

Emergent spirit, composed of sea bells,
bequeaths new embassy through hieroglyphs
detailing circuit calm of quadrant coil
on which I sail beyond contrived complaints
to cherish supple calyx Earth explores
through monody my shadow souls express.

Fantastic rain of unearned legacy
pummels fields of private loneliness
with ancient disciplines of mutiny
by which my wounded heart of pity knows
urgent silence outlawry still absconds
despite fierce oaths contrary friends express.

Far outside chilly walls of crowded church
I sing with larks of unharmonious truth,
tongue bound by bell-rope knelling fractured homes
since I still wander doomed cathedral lawn
through ripe assertions of sad epitaphs
carved on strange walls in spells wild ghosts express.

Though I have heard from scattered tones of stars
antiphonal psalms no angel dares sing,
I push against tribunal words of light
at broken intervals launched into clouds
from which I tumble prostrate on stark hills,
hived in tales my old father should express.

Up terraced meanings, desperate children mold
from visionary voice of instant truth,
we score eccentric cognates trapped by hope,
though flawed encroachments tangle mute despair
flung from towers of revival we seek,
recording messages devils express.

Taut matrix of our story-woven hearts
enshrines false heroes who once filled our eyes
with grand illusions of commodious fate,
unsealed by forest spirit who knows how
showers cleanse our putrid souls of despair
evoked by anthems our sorrows express.

Fraught carillons in tombs of withered gods,
veering against light of synoptic creeds,
lures our attentive souls long motionless
to navigate our labyrinthine lies
through pulsing monoliths of ardency
now vibrant with sweet visions fools express.

Index of riddles, that inspire our quest
to hear sibylline voices of calm lakes,
beneath which demons writhe oblique to fate,
reveals palladium heart that nurtures me
with tearful humor of healing regret
so I may translate proverbs gods express.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus finds Hart Crane wandering bemused on shore of Elysium so they stroll together among orange trees where angels play stringless harps.

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

Specter Of Wisdom
© Surazeus
2026 04 10

When their eyes are unblinded by pure light
that radiates from glamor of my spells,
and they preach salvation through inner sight
granted by perspective of cosmic truth
applied through analysis of my verse,
Specter of Wisdom will curse me with fame.

If I unveil psychotic course of change
that transforms world view with sharp keys
so minds perceive atomic state of truth,
designed by Ungod to spark songs of joy,
Specter of Fame will rise from cosmic wells
and bind my spirit with perplexing curse.

While I sing esoteric spells of faith
in clever riddles of weird parables
that mirror complicated scenes of change,
designed to misdirect avenging ghosts,
so you evade poisonous curse of fear,
Specter of Truth will guard our way past Hell.

Though poised Evangelist afraid of Death
distorts clear vision my spells indicate
that we are conscious flames of verbal light
who flare forth from first flash of fertile hope,
Specter of Love will shield our transient souls
till we evaporate at chime of faith.

Till zombies worshipping their vampire god
transfer affection of obsessive faith
to complex portrait of ontology
presenting deeper truths about this world
which my insightful spells project as dreams,
Specter of Prudence will guard me from Fame.

Safe in veiled haven of secure respect
from seductive disease of famished Pride,
I chant empowering vision of the Force
we channel through attentive mind of faith
Specter of Justice programs in our hearts
so I may die in peaceful solitude.

So if I maintain balance of regard
for natural effect of constructive cause
with formulas that transform selfish greed
to generous calm of communal work
that binds our global state of just rewards,
Specter of Pride will never curse my soul.

When minds of loyal followers are cracked
by shocking truths that sprout from seeds of faith,
programmed by cosmic vision of this world
that guides their quest to find the Promised Land,
Specter of Wisdom will release my soul
from stifling curse of sterilizing Fame.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus chuckles with delight at all the people writing poetry to gain fame instead of channeling spirit of the global zeitgeist to design new ontologies of faith.

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

Machines Of Potent Words
© Surazeus
2026 04 09

Grim gargoyle shape of my expanding brain
dodges succulent perfection of thirst
through imperceptible questions he screams
to imitate machines of potent words
so we feel safe beside the lake of dreams
where fish explain consecutive regrets.

Since truth and beauty that our hearts desire
are both illusions which our brains design,
truth the real world we try to understand
and beauty the dream world we would create,
we walk together in stark field of flowers,
inventing words to match what we perceive.

Tenebrous beauty of the world we see
sucks light of rainbows in vortex of gray
so we mix flour and milk in bowl of hope
to bake fresh bread that keeps our secret fears
concealed in swelling loaf of urgent faith
while nursing darkness of the spinless world.

Rate of convection, when heat radiates,
defends velocity of transient soul
defined by wind chill factor of sweet words
disguising curse of estimated flow
when moving air disrupts my atmosphere
though I breathe pure celestial dreams of love.

We bundle fractured hearts with eglantine
to stride with brave anxiety toward light
illuminating maskless souls we mold
from ringing bells that lure our seamless dance
against continuous time through false doors
to high-walled courtyard of lost paradise.

Adjusting patient line of wounded souls
through secret code of frantic telephones,
we neither confirm nor deny concern
for endless meditation angels play
based on exoneration we must purchase
to free our bodies from theology.

Weird book in which I hide discarded tales
floats faintly slow above my throbbing head
to beam bewildered sentences of fate
that stretch our bodies beyond bounds of hate
so we glance casually at screaming ghost
who offers faces of state suffering.

Dazzled by hills of honest fortitude,
I colonize my heart with twisted lust
when I extract material wealth of words
from hills that share lost treasures forged by light
so we may dwell in tense peace of despair
without care for indifference of Nature.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus translates every poem every written in history of humanity to the language of trees who sing our dreams billions of years after humans go extinct.

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

Voices Of Broken Hearts
© Surazeus
2026 04 09

If I should suppose that snow would destroy
this world civilization that we built
from twisted bones of dinosaurs and gods,
then I should look out window of the house,
where my cousin General Lee once stood,
and contemplate new state of Liberty.

My book of prophecies that no one reads
may adumbrate no future ever seen,
yet moon of sorrow deciphers my joke
to mean that we are stuck in maze of myths
with only glass of water to preview
wild ocean that flows as blood in our veins.

Though I cannot measure with tangled verse
how far we have come down the signless road,
I should empathize with telephone lines
that listen to voices of broken hearts
so much they weep icicle tears of hope
that crash on the windshields of hungry cars.

If I should try to understand your heart
before it flies away on sparrow wings,
my house may reshape cubicle of hope
so time accommodates electric words
that beam weird rainbow eyes of psychic truth
to understand how water flows from thought.

When my cousin John Brown raises his gun
to free enslaved people from greed for gain,
I shall join his crusade to set them free
so we may beat brave drums of Liberty
where oil rigs weep for death of Clementine
whose eyes beam rays of moonlight in my heart.

Though brittle colors of our state archives
process our dreams as technicolor ghosts,
we open gates for travelers of time
who give white breezes of soul-pardoning
to ancient Saturn with long beard of fate
sprawled among exploding flowers of faith.

Our misty island never changes shape
though frantic ocean waves of bitterness
attempt to reframe state ontology
in ways that criminalize worshipped gods
who travel to strange country of glass doors
till we adjust how we view moral rules.

Because I wish to be her follower,
commissioned to guard her body from harm,
I calculate new ways we measure truth
to navigate geography of love,
and dwell save in museum of respect
where we translate voices of broken hearts.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus records voices of broken hearts in lyrical ballads which he generates into heart-aching videos that become popular on social media.

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

Puzzle Of Spectral Souls
© Surazeus
2026 04 08

From shattered memories of all my past lives,
which my ancestors lived millions of years,
I assemble puzzle of spectral souls
in mask and cape I wear to play my role
as mad prophet on storm-wracked heath of fate
to overthrow world emperor of greed.

Surprised by joy after rebirth from pain
of suffering through long dark night of the soul,
I reconstruct puzzle of spectral souls
by weaving scenes from ancient epic tales
that compose new tale of heroic deeds
when wise seer helps young boy kill tyrant king.

Through careful analysis of close reading
to comprehend tropes of my random life
I deconstruct puzzle of spectral souls
which unveils social machinery of myth
that jesters use to manipulate minds
when they crown themselves kings of angry tribes.

Attentive to needs of my princess bride,
who reincarnates my soul in our love child,
I generate puzzle of spectral souls
designed by immortal soul of our genes
as we evolves four hundred million years
from four-legged fish striving to play god.

Based on honest principle of free will,
that motivates my quest to become god,
I conjugate atomic world-view globe
which models planet spinning in the void
that flares forth from first flash of the big bang
through spiral of deified energy.

To explore landscape of dramatic scenes,
which my brave ancestors experienced,
I navigate conceptual maze of myths
where every great human in history
stands frozen as idol of their grand deeds
in signs that guide my way to Wonderland.

Curious how neural net of our brains
emanates temporary conscious soul,
I analyze puzzle of spectral souls
by how their actions cause effects of change
that we record in chronicles of fate
which we frame with each decision we make.

Tangled in matrix of atomic souls
that cast caliber of my character,
I calculate puzzle of spectral souls
through formulas of psychic paradigms
to join world choir of angels singing poems
about why life is brief but beautiful.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus teaches children how to design and implement puzzle of spectral souls that develops their innate talent into productive skill so they create beauty before they die.

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

First Mountain Mother
© Surazeus
2026 04 08

Strange music echoes in vale of my heart,
uncanny melody of timeless passion
that swells from pulsing bodies of our souls,
so I walk out in crowded streets of Roma
where Gallae priests in long colorful robes
dance wildly to celebrate Megalesia.

Eyes flashing bright with timeless stars of truth,
Magna Mater Cybele, Mountain Mother,
rides throne inside four-wheeled bronze chariot
with humble shepherd Attis at her side,
so I approach and offer fruit of love
which she accepts with bright seraphic smile.

When Cybele presides on judgment throne
with grand rite in Temple of Victory,
my heart swells brave with joyful pride of faith
that ancient spirit of her soul remains
glowing strong in heart of America
that urges us to build Heaven on Earth.

Brave Aura, daughter of wise Artemis,
filled with holy spirit of Dionysus,
bore our first Mountain Mother Cybele
by Star Lake on misty Mount Dindymus,
who reigned as oracle at Pessinus
in temple Midas built with hands of gold.

When her descendant Ilus, son of Tros,
built citadel of Troia with high walls,
her Phrygian Spirit of noble courage
flowed with Aeneas to the Seven Hills
where Romulus built great city of Roma
that shines from heart of Mother Cybele.

From Star Lake on misty Mount Dindymus
immortal spirit of Cybele springs
to nourish her descendants with grand vision
for ruling Heaven through organized rites
so we confirm our soul with self-control
when building empire of First Mountain Mother.

From Pessinus to Troia, then to Roma,
through Londinium and Vasintonia,
grand spirit of Cybele sprouts again
as Goddess of Justice and Liberty
who guides our democratic way of life
where all are equal in America.

As we dance to celebrate Megalesia,
and drink bitter-sweet wine of Dionysus,
we honor soul of Mother Cybele
who teaches us to transform pain to joy
by generating life before we die
since we accept that death will take us all.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus finds reincarnation of Cybele on pyramid of the one-eye that gleams over the city of Vasintonia where King Midas reigns as tyrant of greed.

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

Vampire Witch Of Hell
© Surazeus
2026 04 07

Persephone in white-lace wedding gown
kneels among glowing cinders on the plain,
bearing apple-shaped ruby in her hand
that glows with pure ethereal flame of love,
and chants soft spells from ancient Book of Truth
so glowing gem becomes her beating heart.

Orion on white horse of arrogance,
that gallops on thundering hoofs of rage,
aims sharp spear at heart of Persephone
intent on killing vampire witch of Hell
who smirks and twirls on rainbow angel wings
to shoot shower of needles at his eyes.

Blinded by rays of divine cognizance,
Orion screams as he tumbles on rocks,
then crawls in agony of wounded pride
till he sucks energy from tortured souls
to swell enormous as dragon of hate
and hurls jagged boulders at dainty girl.

With casual gestures of nebulous faith,
Persephone bats boulders with her hands,
like milk cows swat flies with tails as they graze,
then somersaults on flashing wings of fate
while casting shining net of ice-moon rays
that traps Orion in tangled emotions.

Trembling in horror at vision of death
that amplifies acerbic voice of fear,
which fractures his coherent sense of self,
Orion writhes in muscle-tensing strain
through rigid agitation of despair
that twists his body into feral beast.

Gently touching head of the rope-bound hunter,
Persephone whispers proverb of faith,
"My fertile body of creative power
is not your helpless puppet to control,
so with strict spell of assertive respect
I arrest your aggressive force of greed."

Chanting spirit-rejuvenating spell,
Persephone reprograms his world view
to purge his toxic masculinity
that cleanses his mind of animal lust
which transforms wild beast into calm man
who kneels before her with obedient heart.

Persephone in white-lace wedding gown,
followed by Orion with Spear of Truth
as loyal guard who protects her from harm,
ascends ziggurat to Temple of Justice
where she presides as Goddess Liberty
who maintains world empire with rule of law.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus strums lyre of Mercury and sings heroic tale of how Persephone conquered Orion so she can rule United Nations of Earth with justice and liberty for all.

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