No Kings In America
We allow no kings in America
for we are land of people who live free
with justice and equality for all,
at least those are ideals we cherish most,
though some greedy people, weak and afraid
attempt to
https://surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/06/no-kings-in-america.html
Clever Scam Of Clowns
I take my brain out every night at nine
and place it on the third shelf in the fridge,
because it shrivels hard as the peach pit,
so it will sprout long twisted vine of wit
which I employ to build the wordless
https://surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/06/clever-scam-of-clowns.html
The new Hayden Pedigo album is out! And it's as good as I had hoped. Beautiful instrumental guitar in the vein of early William Tyler. Great for listening at work or just relaxing.
Geistlicher Missbrauch ist ein Thema, dass in der Aufarbeitung noch relativ am Anfang steht. Im Kollegenkreis und auch an vielen anderen Stellen, in Dienstverhältnissen, Gemeinde und Seelsorge, ist geistlicher Missbrauch mit unverarbeiteten Erfahrungen verbunden.
Gut, dass das Thema aktiv angegangen wird! 
https://libori.social/@news_erzbistum_paderborn/114623846481794546
Celebrating Robert Tannahill (2024)
Dissenting from prevailing notions that label Tannahill as “sweetly sentimental”, Prof Fred Freeman’s lecture positions him as a major poet who expanded the tradition of British “rationalist” pastoralism
3/3
Keen blaws the wind o’er er the Braes o’ Gleniffer.
The auld castle’s turrets are cover’d wi’ snaw;
How chang’d frae the time when I met wi’ my lover
Amang the broom bushes by Stanley green shaw…
—Robert Tannahill, “The Braes o’ Gleniffer”
published in The Works of Robert Tannahill (1838)
2/3
Robert Tannahill (1774–1810), “the weaver poet”, was born #OTD, 3 June – “second only to Robert Burns as a poet writing chiefly in the language of the working class of Scotland”
1/3
Gerade habe ich eine Empfehlung für das Magazin https://www.euangel.de/ erhalten. Ich kannte es noch nicht. Ihr vielleicht ja auch noch nicht. 
Weird Voice Of Death
The house the grows inside house of my heart
reaches out to hold hands with the oak tree
who whispers tales written in code of leaves
about the fallen angel of the moon
whose face hangs on the bedroom wall each noon
https://surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/06/weird-voice-of-death.html
Painting Of Her New Face
When she takes the old painting off the wall
she hears wordless whispers it leaves behind,
so she waits till the glass telephone rings
then fills it with the silence of her hope,
but when she draws map to her
https://surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/05/painting-of-her-new-face.html
Courage In The Soul
When tyrants rise to grip the Earth with hate,
her rich hills recoil, rivers blast to dust,
harsh sun glares down through veils of mournful ash,
and stars flame out in cinders of despair,
since air boils thick with
Empty Sky Of Where
New statue of the baby born from mud,
brain ticking with gears of the eager watch,
expresses voice of hope with cry for truth
compressed as milk from breast of Mother Earth
which takes its place among the elements
that
https://surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/05/empty-sky-of-where.html
Knowledge I Am Alive
Though this sullen world cares less about me
than rocks that hum in river of rainbows,
I wander landscape of unwelcome wind
to howl with beasts who want to eat my soul
and dance with wild abandon of the dead
till I
https://surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/05/knowledge-i-am-alive.html
Gray Cement Wall
Gray cement wall curves with balletic grace
enclosing silver emptiness of light
with brute solidity of wordless faith
to peak at pinnacle of wingless flight
through incandescent glow of honesty
that rotely radiates
Chapel Of My Heart
When my thoughts become stairs of molten glass
I climb so my footsteps sing honey blood
that feeds blind ghosts who unroll tinsel wings
and whisper secrets to shape jagged leaves
for horse made of clocks who devours the
https://surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/05/chapel-of-my-heart.html
Ziphion Spiral Starchild
While Steve fixes broke engine of the truck
in cold garage beside the busy road
he feels spiral starchild bloom in his heart
from eerie melody of crystal flutes,
so he calls the River Walker by name
who sprinkles
https://surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/05/ziphion-spiral-starchild.html
Your Great Empire Falls
While they sing of the Promised Land in church
I stand up and walk out the shadow door
to stand beneath the flowering chestnut tree
where birds discuss romantic states of mind.
If I become the lark no one hears
https://surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/05/your-great-empire-falls.html
Her Shipwrecked Home
Eating at round kitchen table of hope
with birds transforming from her wingless eyes,
she dreams her house is floating on the sea
with skirt of her obsessions as broad sail
that captures wind of sorrow blowing wild
https://surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/05/her-shipwrecked-home.html
Wings Of Pale Decay
Awake on thin ice of their fragile hearts,
too taut to trust with steps they need to take,
they float on tattered wings of pale decay
above the milk-glass pond of fabled fate
with faces bulging from the weightless tide
https://surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/05/wings-of-pale-decay.html
