A newborn father
wears a path to heaven
in polished holy marble
'neath the pedestal
of stoney saints.
Deific overseers
cast artificial glory
incandescently.
A slice of dimly lit
hospital heaven
is framed with two candles
and the incense of Betadine.
Saint John's shadow
shares confessions
and supplications
over a once-immortal man
now unashamedly broken,
bartering trade with God -
his life for his son's.

This shoebox chapel
is starking cold.
Cold enough to preserve meat,
and doubts
which mock peace
against nun-hardened walls
echoing Satan's laugh.
Hope drowns in the ripples
of a basin filled with water
to wash our sins
but not our fear.

In the air hangs
the promise of eternity
(which is spiritual code for "death", but no one says "death" outloud. The more they don't say it, the more it sounds like "WE AREN'T GOING TO SAY "DEATH", WE CAN'T POSSIBLY SAY "DEATH", UNTIL IT IS SO UNCOMFORTABLE THAT WE MIGHT AS WELL BE SAYING "DEATH, DEAD, DIE, DIE, DIE, DIE, DEATH AND TO TOP IT OFF...ON YOUR MOTHER'S GRAVE").
Yet piercing through
the promise of eternity
is the frail wail
of his baby's voice.

Legacy lingers in a
plastic manger down the hall.
Resurrection is more
than a prayer, it is his spirit
rising for one more miracle.
Faith is summoned
like a woozy fighter
demanding his will
to go on,
beaten,
half-concious
on the mat
refusing to lay down
for the count.
"God, I believe.
Help my unbelief."

The weeping man
stares into a statue's eyes
for salvation.

Monday, November 11th, 2019

The pain in loss can be a deleterious scourge, undoing all the threads of light embedded in the heart. Who am I to contend with the ethereal tides of the cosmos? A juvenescent soul enrapt mine entity for but a moment, yet, soon thereafter, he was gone. Vanquished by the Winds of Undoing, he may never re-alight upon my soulscape; however, I must go on. Let dreams illumine the fulgent irides you are starry-eyed to see.

I must trust that all things are working out for their highest good. In me are all the answers that I seek; we are our own nexus to transcendence. Will I ever see him again? I am without certainty, but I shall arise triumphantly. Tears may yearn to cascade my countenance, but I will waxeth impregnable apropos of the deluge of sadness.

Who am I? I am the emblematization, the insignia of love. Christ truly abides within each one of us. If I am to truly attain my Apex Monumental, I must undergo tremendous sufferings; therefore, ne’er fathom that suffering is thine undoing, ―tis your making.

Press onward valiant warrior, love shall open every doorway. One day, thine Ultima Thule shall manifest itself before your eyes; moreover, the patriarch you never had shall be found in the Arbiter of Fates above. Never give up young one, for you are aeonically loved. Wisdom, Love, Justice, Power and all the virtues vested in this cosmos shall teem within thine vessel.

Sanctity is perhaps a notion, a theistic & ratiocinatively deific dogma. I fathom it an inordinately exclusive fallacy that maketh one feel holier than his brethren. Was any man or woman foreordained above any other? And if so, were they given not a privilege, but a duty? An anointing means one is set apart for a higher purpose, not a lionizing gasconade.

“He who dares to teach must never cease to learn.” It is true that the erudite has immense gift, but they likewise carry profundity of mandated travail. In each one of us, lie the answers we seek; therefore, we must introspect & retrospect in order to circumspect. We must search and seek, in order to find. Let the one who knocketh, have it revealed unto them, have it opened.

∞(Se’ Lah)∞


Excelsior Forevermore,


Sanders Maurice Foulke III

Spirit descends
Taking shape
From
Nirvanic infinitude
And is carnally crystallized
In an incarnadine
Shrine of flesh,
Bone and marrow.

Let the anima of wisdom
Hear the unuttered reverberations
That ripple as a shockwave
Through this
Vast, multidimensional
Cosmos
And utter
The esoteric secrets of existence.

A verisimilitude of life
Loometh in the irides
Of the
Gasconading celestial
And we
Must wax lowly
To
Wax lofty.

Trust that something
Interstellar, intergalactic, macrocosmic, multiversal;
Fatidic, fathoms all
With
Omnibenevolence.
Ye, this
Visage of Creation keeps vigil
In the corporeal pulse of plight.

Fulgurant perdition is for
But an
Ephemeral exhalation, Elysium is for eternity;
(Therefore)
Gaze heavensward
Knowing the Holy Dove
Shall always
Rise and fall.

Promises await:
A deific covenant
Etched in the
Slabs of our hearts,
(I Hear)
The Requiem of Lovelit Life resolved
In the
Key of the Archean.

Spirit rises,
Dismantling form
And intertwines infinitely
All that is, was, and will be;
Circular & cycling
Forevermore
The Cosmo-Plexus of Empyreal Love
Sees all.

(Se' lah)

I must trust that
Every flaw is a blessing
And with each set of imperfections
There will also be a set of advantages,
It’s the process of efflorescence
That creates such a painful dichotomy;
Blossoming is like an upward spiral of refinement
Extricating iniquity, thereby, heralding excellency.

The ego is a feeble sense of self-identification;
Therefore, I must aim higher,
Or aim to fail instead.
If forsooth, I fail to aim,
I will
Inherit
Defeat by default
(Witherance in its wake).

Words become a lost art
In my odyssey; Without integrity,
The highest divine is futility.
Of Truth in this heart of mine
Acquisition always lies in action,
Motion creates energy
And energy is limitlessness
In what it creates & magnetizes.

When the static rises
I will relinquish my fears
Unto the Deific Divine,
All that quakes my heart,
All that thunders,
What Makes this Mind’s Sky tremulous
Shall be purged & undone
By the Holy Dove.

We all become deluged by darkness
& vexation, at these exhalations
Oblivion seems legion,
We lose our ability to hear
The voice within;
Yet, these oracular undulations,
Are our beckoning The Empyrean
For salvation.

Believe in The Arbiter Of Fates,
Fathom that His fatidic waves
Augur redemption to those
Iniquitously ordained; enclaved,
In the Visage of Shadows
You will come to know
The inviolable promise, that sacrosanct oath
Of aeonic, sempiternal, everlasting love.

(Se' lah)

delicate flutter
soft as butter
the green of spring
the gold of summer

untouched youth
untarnished truth
a butterfly's wings
the angel that sings

Divine soft breath
Foil of death
deific kiss
G-d's daughter 'n bliss

behold the soul
endowed in clay
makes you whole
makes you gay

unthinking man
suffocates the spark
he thinks he can
mix light with dark

piles refuse
debris and trash
throws abuse
torment 'n harass

virtuous one
soul and spirit
soil'd, outdone,
wishes to clear it

Speak less,
Listen more,
Avoid stress,
Silence adore.

It's never too late
to arouse from sleep
to help off shake
the ******* heap