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Surazeus Simon Seamount
Epic Poet and Cartographer
Epic Poet and Cartographer

Surazeus Simon Seamount's posts

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Hermead: Demetrios Phalereus

Library Of Demetrios Phalereus - Demetrios escapes Athens where he ruled for 10 years and arrives after a shipwreck in Alexandria where Ptolemaios Soter appoints him the task to build and operate a Museum as a philosophy school and a library. Demetrios builds the famous Library of Alexandria which attracts students from all over the known world who study astronomy, physics, and literature. Library Of Demetrios Phalereus has 1,548 lines of blank verse.

Cover Image: Xenophon, The History of Philosophy, Thomas Stanley, 1656.

#Epic #Poem #Poetry #HistoricalFiction #AmericanEpic #Science #Philosophy #GreatAmericanNovel #Physics #Cosmology #Phalereus #Library #Novel


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We Choose Love
© Surazeus
2017 07 21

When each person stands at edge of abyss
of eternal death after this short life
that weaves pleasure and pain into our hearts,
and comes to realize with ache of despair
that we are born by accident of lust
instead of being created for some purpose,
struggle against horror with hunger to live
in meaningless universe of wild atoms,
then vanish to nothing after we die
though we may leave our children still alive,
and decides with inspiring flash of love
to care for everyone with gentle acts
that create rather than destroy, they rise
above numbing horror of crushing death
and express love till death crushes our souls.
For two thousand years Christian priests proclaimed
that God created us from boundless love,
Jesus died to save us from selfish sins,
and we should accept him as selfless savior
so he can resurrect our souls from death
to live with him in paradise of bliss,
or we will burn in hell of agony,
but this lie of the resurrection blinds
eyes of desperate people to see this world
with sober view that everyone will die
and that Jesus will never resurrect
our bodies after death disperses souls.
People broken by agony of pain
and twisted by horror of suffering
cling tight to this false deceptive belief
that some super-powerful God of love
loves them and will restore their souls to life,
so every week they gather in their church
and conjure visions of this powerful god,
they pretend loves them and designed some plan
to guide their way in vast uncaring world,
to soothe the horror of eternal death
that clouds their eyes blind with deceptive hopes.
How sad that people need this specious promise
of the afterlife in blissful paradise
or the threat of eternal suffering
in order to convince them to act good,
when true goodness within the mortal soul
arises when each one who faces death
and eternal nothingness of our souls
in vast uncaring universe of change
decides to be good and love other people
in spite of the undeniable fact
that life is full of suffering and pain
and that we vanish to nothing at death.
When each person who stands at edge of death,
staring numb into bottomless abyss,
decides to light their heart with glow of love
and exude warmth to comfort fellow souls,
they gain true enlightenment of good love
and choose to live through creative expression,
that though we suffer and die in cold horror
we journey together on road of life
and cooperate in creative teams
to survive in communities of friends
and celebrate life with feast, dance, and song
that stays the darkness of death for this hour
while we savor the sweetness of our love.
When we realize that priests invented god
and the blinding lie of the resurrection
to transform the horror of death to hope
we choose to dispel the cold darkness of hate
with the warm light of love from our own hearts
so we become the light that shines this hour
to lead lost souls to hearth of fellowship
where we feast and sing till death crushes all.
We choose love though we will all die forever.

#Poem #Poetry #Resurrection #EternalLife #Paradise #Jesus #God #Death #LightOfLove #TrueLove #Morality

‪I love to watch sunlit leaves play in wind. ‬
Children spring from dreams their parents misplaced.
We reinvent their hopes as politics. 

‪I love to watch sunlit leaves play in wind. ‬
Children spring from dreams their parents misplaced.
We reinvent their hopes as politics. 

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Hermead Volume 6
Book Launch
16 July 2017

20,674 lines of blank verse
Globe Of Krates
Astrolabe Of Hipparkhos
Hedonism Of Philodemos

#Poem #Poetry #Epic #EpicPoem #HistoricalFiction #Novel #GreatAmericanNovel #GreatAmericanEpic #WesternCivilization #Philosophy #Science


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Happy Hermead Day
16 July 2011

Hermead of Surazeus
Epic Poem about the lives and ideas of 26 Philosophers in 126,000 lines of blank verse.

Buy the Hermead:
Hardcover, Paperback, Pocketbook, and eBook

Series Page:

#Poem #Poetry #Epic #EpicPoem #HistoricalFiction #GreatAmericanNovel #GreatAmericanEpic #WesternCivilization #Philosophy #Science


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Hermead: Aristoteles

Causes Of Aristoteles - Aristoteles explores with his friend Philippos, whose father is king of Makedonia, then goes to see his father who is a doctor at the court hospital, but his father is dying. His uncle sends him to Athens where he studies at the Akademia of Platon for twenty years, exploring nature with his friends. When Aristoteles is passed over as head of the Akademia, he travels with his friend Hermias to Aiolis where his father is king. Aristoteles falls in love with Pythias, and they spend several years exploring the flora and fauna of Lesbos Island with Theophrastos. After Hermias is killed by the Persians, Aristoteles takes his family to Makedonia where he becomes tutor for young Alexandros and his friends. Philippos and his father form the League of Korinthos, and Aristoteles founds a philosophy school in the Lykeion in Athens while Alexandros conquers the world. After Alexandros dies, Aristoteles flees for his life to Euboia where he dies. Causes Of Aristoteles has 6,912 lines of blank verse.

Cover Image: Aristoteles, The History of Philosophy, Thomas Stanley, 1656.

#Epic #Poem #Poetry #HistoricalFiction #AmericanEpic #Science #Philosophy #GreatAmericanNovel #Physics #Cosmology #Aristotle #Novel


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Flash Of Consciousness
© Surazeus
2017 07 05

Each blade of grass that sprouts from spinning Earth
reflects pure rays of light from pulsing sun
that throbs inside the anguish of my heart
when I dream clear the original Flash
that wove vast threads of light in spinning coils
which twang through triangles of molecules.

I remember when the sun was first born
for all the atoms flashing in the cells
of my dreaming brain were forged by its Flash,
then woven into planet of our eyes
so every combination of bright atoms
beams bright with transcendental mind of hope.

The universe of flashing coils of light
is no more conscious than hard chunk of rock
until rain breaks minerals into soil
sucked by roots of trees to blossom ripe fruit
so when I eat the sun and rain combined
I wake and know I am the Universe.

I lie on lawn outside my red-brick home
and feel the round blue sky inside my eye
so when we all together gaze at stars
we see our single universal face
reflected back in mirror of black nothing
where Flash of consciousness hums tune of love.

#Poem #Poetry #Mantra #Romanticism #Creation #Genesis #Evolution #BigBang #Consciousness #Universe

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My Broken Quill
© Surazeus
2017 07 04

The dwarf who dances on your unmarked grave
sold your spirit to the man with no eyes
but you run forever lost in his cave,
hoping to buy back our infinite skies.

Though you claw at the jagged rocks of hope,
seeking the bread of light, baked from live brains,
you tremble shivering on the hill slope
that leads to paradise flooded by rains.

The girl who understands your secret soul
refuses to give you the name you earned
so you hide laughing in the sunless hole
you dug from where the apple trees were burned.

The key that opens the exploding box,
you found in the glass jar in the dark room,
vanished while you were chasing the white fox
who tried to lead you from the house of doom.

The old man who sold you nine coffee beans
now sits on the throne your grandfather built
but while he buries thirteen noble queens
you hide in his oak tree, gnawing on guilt.

The dwarf who built walls around paradise
charges you for apples from your own trees
but since you cannot pay the perfect price
he demands you bottle the perfumed breeze.

The night you tried to rescue from death cave
Rapunzel who whispers your secret name
three owls waited for you in the church nave
but you got lost in the world-power game.

The peak which glows gold in the dawning rays
watches you without commands or advice
therefore after twenty-three hundred days
you dream the perpetual motion device.

The world is one giant eyeball of dreams
that pulses with constant contests of will
but you sit alone by the singing streams,
composing epics with my broken quill.

The map I carved on the cave wall of Hell
might lead you to the great treasure you seek
but since you still hide in the songless well
no one will hear the magic spells you speak.

I cannot help but feel soul-swelling pride
because I molded from broken tree runes
weird song of philosophers who all died
so children learn secrets from blinking tunes.

The tower where Rapunzel raises our child
endures beyond the spinning of the world
until the world chronicle is compiled
that explains how the real universe whirled.

#Poem #Poetry #Song #Prophecy #Puzzle #DeathWish #QuestOfFools #Capitalism #FourthOfJuly
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