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Every dawn is a nexus, /
Every twilight is a beckoning; therefore, /
Embrace the fickle future /
Ensconscing within the sacral oath /
Of a thousand words: /
These utterances shall envelop you /
When upon Triumphal Arcadian Skies /
We meet again. /

Save your tears, /
For love shall reign /
From the empyreal aethers above /
To the Gaian epidermis of /
The Magnanimous Matriarch; moreover, the mellifluous kisses /
Of The Sovereign of Songbirds /
Will burgeon within, /
Will descend upon you as The Holy Dove. /

Unfurl your third eye, /
See with an indefatigable clarity /
All that you were meant to be: /
Strong, Wise, Just; /
Love; /
A luminary fulminating /
Radiantly, resplendently upon /
The Denizens of the Terrene. /

(—Se' lah)
Your heart /
Is an impearled grand piano: /
Every word, /
Every thought, /
Every utterance, /
Is an ivory key emitting /
A sonic, an aeonic testimonial; /
A reverberation of spirit./

Awaken your senses, /
Trust your intuition, /
Burgeon in the beauteous /
Molecule quenching, /
Rays of the Feuillemorte, /
Hiemal, Vernal, & Estival Sol. /
In truth, our Mother Lodestar /
Transcends the seasons./

Evanescent, /
Though life may be, /
She is worthy of every /
Onerous breath, /
For all is a quickening; A preparation /
For the auric-ascendence, the platinum self-transcendence /
Awaiting us in /
The Realm of Greater Eden. /


Excelsior Forevermore,



Sanders Maurice Foulke III, AAS


09-06-21
Àŧùl Jul 2021
My new novel
Is now available
On the online circle
Of Amazon Kindle
As a soft copy eBook
And as a traditional
Hard copy novel

It set it in beyond COVID19 days,
Read what I write as a PhD scholar.
I know that China modified it,
Naturally, CoV won't affect us so much.
China altered it in the Wuhan lab,
They made it a novel Coronavirus,
They called it nCoV19, ask why,
Because they engineered it in 2019.

My novel talks about it,
This sin is punished,
Not just by India,
But also by USA,
And everyone sane,
There happens WW3,
The Negative Axis powers are:
China, North Korea & Pakistan

Indian Army has HuSaVe's,
Human Safety Vehicles,
Robotic suits that the DRDO creates.
China copies them,
Removes the human part,
And makes GHOST's,
Global Human Omission Safety Transformers.

The story is built with a lot of action, some technology and a bit of romance,
A lot of red shades make the story, some blues for it and a bit of pink,
For writing it, I wasted not a microlitre of real ink.


Indian Army comes up with TASIP,
Terrestrial Army Soldier Improvement Program,
And the protagonist, Ravindra Thakur is selected to be one of them.
He becomes a genetically modified soldier,
The DRDO has a specialist scientist Dr. Malakar who does it with his team,
CRISPR-Cas9 is used to elongate all his telomeres,
And now he has stronger chromosomes.

Ravindra & his batchmates can handle extreme doses of hormones,
Adrenalin, human growth hormone and testosterone to name a few,
These hormones can otherwise **** people in such high overdose,
But his sixth sense is strengthened and even the seventh & eighth senses top with those,
You begin to read it and if you can't put it down, blame it on me,
Cross-references to my previous novel help bring your heart closer,
Yes, the novel is sci-fi, army, diplomacy and hypothetically viable too.
https://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B095Q76Z52/

My HP Poem #1933
©Atul Kaushal
Flynn Sep 2020
En point across eggshells
I tiptoe terrified around the point
Tireless trying to despatch any drama
I slip as I dance, Audible cracks

It’s been like this for a while now
Heart palpations, perpetually on edge
Panic attacks more frequent
Wait... they’re entirely new

Careful attempts to communicate
How I feel, frightened for firing the kiln
What will it be this time?
Interruption of calm converse circadian

Gaslighting? Guilt-Tripping?
Derailing? Tone-policing?
“I don’t deserve to be spoken to that way”
You say, as I crumble

Endless excuses and appalling accusations
You revolting repertoire maims me
Standing shattered, ******* fractured
fragmented as the eggshell environment I navigate

suspicious of my soul, I ponder the point
I take medication now, dose has doubled
The months you spent convincing me
a counsellor captioned me manipulative

Lies. Ladles of lies.
Thank god I know now
I had a plan in place
A time and space...

Delicately detailing
Now with unsullied sharpness
From alpha to omega
My swan song
Alicia Prakash May 2020
Pinks and golds,
blues and purples,
So many colours
Of the sky I hadn’t noticed.

Clarity in chaos
Cold sunlight
Thundering silence
Absence of life

The endless days
The boring nights
Filled with meaningless chatter
And petty fights

Nothing matters
Not anymore
It’s just a matter of time
Until we’re all gone.

So take a deep breath
Sing another psalm
Who knows
It could be your swan song.

Or so the fortune tellers
And seers of the world
Would have us believe
When despair takes its toll
And gnaws at our grief.

Faith keeps us moving.
Faith brings us together.
Faith is enough for me to love.
It is enough for me to LIVE.
Shofi Ahmed Jan 2020
The physical matter
has a line in its swansong
it has a place in paradise
it’s not here to stay for good
neither to perish forever!
Chantell Wild Feb 2019
How dare I be afraid
Of you not being Here
One day you will not Be
Maybe it's Me that
won't  be here
I do beg forgiveness
I could have maybe
Done better by you
But let it be known
That I loved you
That Ill write my last poem
In my own time
Sing my Swan song
In my own time.
Jade Oct 2018
Heart skips
like a warped record,
trembles over scarred vinyl
until "I love you"
tastes incomplete:

(I)                love                 you

I                  (love)               you

I                   love                (you).

My Swan Song mewls off key,
cascades across the
marred terrain of my soul
in a thick lacquer of tears.
Notes flatline
in unison with my
waning pulse
(waning, like the face
of the moon on the night
of my eighteenth birthday).

My breath
resigns to static,
dances in slow decrescendos--
sputters its way
towards nothingness,
slipping rapidly from
my consciousness until
I no longer hold
any recollection of the music
(or the poetry).
Don't be a stranger--check out my blog!

jadefbartlett.wixsite.com/tickledpurple

(P.S. Use a computer to ensure an optimal reading experience)
Àŧùl Feb 2015
In this poem, I speak directly to you-know-who-because-it's-you.

Dear old friend, don't miss me ever,
If I had some genuine value in your life,
Now I add the element of request, please,
You know that most of my poems are for you,
Whether normal or proposing you to be my wife,
Please do not spoil your career being busy in vain,
The social network & apps are a total waste of time.

The social network is not a place for social service,
It is only so harmful for your own career prospects.

This is just my last request to you, Kripiji.

I know you are upset with this preaching,
But please take the positivity from this post.
Realize your ultimate aim in life of a good career.
And remember your exceptional performance two years ago.
Take some lessons from it even if you don't want me to say anything.
You were away from Facebook.
Facebook is a really cool thing..
But it is not so good for students...

And please don't resent me, Kripiji.

I am just performing my duty as a responsible lover.

By the way, it's a bit funny how I am requesting you timidly, scared to spoil your mood, I respect you for the love you have given to me from in between of all this busyness in your life which sees you prepare for your exams.

My HP Poem #777
©Atul Kaushal
mark john junor Jul 2014
her tender thoughts
meant to ease my mind
only obscured what was already hard to see
but her kindness was not lost on me
an angel of the mercy
she held back the night till i had passed the worst of it
held my hand with warmth till the break of day
we wintered there high above the treeline
in the deep snows of high mountain pass
and when spring came at long last
kept my word
rode her down to the pettyjean
saw her to safety

long months passed without a word
till one late summer day
high up on the mountain side came cross her
in a picturesque meadow sitting in splendor
like a portrait of perfections
like a sad goddess come to earthbound tears
didn't need to speak a word
gave her a safe place to be
held back the night till the worst of it had passed
wrapped her in golden and silver thread
held her hand with all the love and hope my heart could hold
for her tears burned my soul
and i could not bear to see them flowin
stayed there all that night
and deep into the hardest winter since '63

with small smiles running cross her sweet face
she thanked me for my kindness
bid me fare thee well once more
it had come to her in a dream
that this love of hers would return to her
hurt her no more and be hers forevermore
so into the deep snow i took her
back on down the mountainside to the pettyjean once again
watched as the boat carried her away
nobody to hold her hand through the worst of it
nobody to keep her safe in the darkest of night
just my hopes to guide her
just my unrequited loves to keep her golden

sittin here in the darkest of the night
with nothing but the wind to speak to
say all the things i could have should have said
explain the things in the way of knowin
what could have been
in this valley of silver and gold
came to me in a dream
that this should have been
and will be again in that wonderful place called someday
when we will laugh again
when the night passes and wake to smiling face once again
just as the dream slipped away i saw her
one last time coming up the pettyjean
bright with joys
happy once more
coming home

— The End —