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―Go Forth
Flourish in The Light
Of The
Estival Sol,
Elysium of the Soul,
Once you have vanquished
The Stygian,
Your Soul
Awaits You―


~I bid you
Immortal Heartsease
And
Armistice of Ataraxia:
The Reverberation of our Souls
In the Key of Elysium~.





I. Archean Prelude

The echoes
of your
Memories of
The Light & Airwaves
Pine to
Bloom in Reminiscence
Over the
Days of Yore.


II. The Echoes of Existentiality

We are all atomic particles;
Molecular Particles,
Of an aromatic
Omniscient,
Omnipotent,
Omnipresent Mist:
The Cosmo-Plexus of Empyreal Love

―Echo forth comrades―

~Evanesce,
Into the Empyrean,
Etherealized Lightscape
Until the
Visage of Creation
Enskies us
To the exalted
El Dorado~



II. Tempus Fugit

The Promise
Of the
Morrow
Is nigh:

The Yesteryears
Wax
Distant Ages,
Wax
Archean Aeons;

(Eventuality of Existence)

Our Bygone Days
Of Lovelit, Loveless Life,
Antiquate and
Our Soulwaves
Wax
The Spirit of
The Ancient of Days.


III. Nova Cosmogony

Betwixt the Realms
Of the
Beneficent Matriarch Mirror,
Beyond
Terraqueous Gaia
Unfurls the Vista,
Your Fulgurant Dreamscape:

Only the Sapient of Sages
Doth denude:

The Incorporeal Incarnation
Of
Virtue, it’s vesture,
Na’phesh

The Decrepitude of Withering
Dovens the Divine
In the
Vestibule of Vanity,
Sanctimony & Superciliousness
Thence deliquesce;
Bearing womb of Light.

IV. Celestial Morphology

Unveiling the Substance
Of Space and Time;
Spirit and Soul;
Euphony, Harmony;
Atrophy, Intrepidity
All are Entity

Once
Pristine yet vacuous,
Flourishing into
Mystical and shimmering
Nothingness, gropes
For Meta-Astral ―form;

Ventus Divinitas,
The Cosmogonist’s Agenda
Resonates
Through the
Inchoative Universe.

V. The Temporal Hither:

Her Genesis
Waxeth
Vestal Vicissitudes:

She is
The Twilit Quiver
Uprising in
Darts of the Dawn,

Until
Arrows of Antemeridian
Light Cascade
Our epidermis
With the incendiary
Sovereignty of Sol.

Dusk:
Chars the Canvas
Of Ethereal Skies,
Garnetiferous,
Moonlit, Martyred Mind’s Sky;
The Eve’s Imperator
And
Inquisitive Spirit Eyes.

By Luminaries
We’re ensorcelled
Corpulent with thought.

~Wondering upon,
Vacuous a fathomed
Cosmogenesis. ~



VI. Tempus et Spatium:


~There are
Edicts unseen
The Esoteric of the Macrocosm

Only the
Transcendent of Tellurians
May tell of
The Life-Rending,
Sunder forth:

Semantics in Constellations;
Gaian Whispers of Sylvan Tale
The Arboreal Wisdom,
Musicality in Zephyrs ruffling Trees of Vale
Hearken unto further
The Winged-Symphonic Bees
(The Bombinating Orchestra)
Soul Untethered = [ Meta-Consciousness ^ Spiritus de Liberty]

Einstein’s General Relativity= [Spatium ^ Matter ↔ Energy ^ Motion]

~

(Time & Space
The height,
The width,
The depth,
And
The breadth)
The Empyrean One
Enshrined in Pantheon
Our Virginal, Vestal Souls
Efflorescent Eternity
In our hearts?
(Ecclesiastes 3:11)

Time is fickle
A
Hydrean Leviathan:

Whilst ye
Voyage her
Seven Seas,
Moor naught
In her
Elapsed chronology;
Her caprice
And ire
Shalt not
Be quelled.

Be roused
From
Somnus,
Unto her
Perpetuity of
Aqueous Abyssal, Dream Deep Sea;
Tenuous,
Diaphanous,
Rare,
Tender,
Instinctive,

∞ Her Moments ∞
∞ Extinguished ∞
∞ At Birth. ∞

∞ Eternally, ∞
∞ Reincarnated; ∞
∞Anew.∞

∞The Cosmic Spectrum∞
∞Is Infinite∞

∞Excelsior, Godspeed∞

∞ Elo’him ∞





VII. Ultima Thule:

We
Empyrean souls,
Doth abide
In
Pearlescent raiment.

The Cosmogenesis is our Dreamscape:
.
We are all a cosmos,
Expanding, contracting;
Ebbing, flowing;
Hitherto and thitherto;
Red-Shift and Blue-Shift.

Until the Mellifluous Morn,
Whence the
Zephyr of Life
Reverberates the Musicality
Of The
Arboreal Sages.

Terraqueous Gaia
Whispers
The Hope of the Ages.
Spirits betwixt
Greater Eden and She’ol.

Count the stars,
Enumerate every
Constellation in The Cosmos
Of your Soulscape scintillating
Upon thine Mind’s Sky.

Whence Luna and Sol
By the Wisdom
Of your starlight.
Are benighted, beseech
The Ancient of Days

For within The Supernal Wavelength
Of the Hallowed Dove.
We glean refuge
Our Aegis,
Providence.

Awaiting the
Golden, incendiary pinions
Of the
Revenant Phoenix to resurrect us.
Allow the Holy Spirit
to be your Polaris,
― to Elysium.

~By Agape’s Armistice:
Ascend,
The Peaks of Heartsease.
Commune with the Cosmos,
Wax
Salvera y Jiustizia
Brethren,
I plead.~”


~This Sacred Lotus seed
Was sown
Into the
Into the Soil of your Souls
, ―By the Astral.

You are a melody,
Sung by
A coloratura,
Burst into a
Tapestry of Fioritura:

Of Hope,
Faith,
And
Love



(May you
Reap
The Virtues of the Lord)

Betwixt

Na’phesh,
(The [Your] Living Soul)

&

Kos’Mos’
(The World)

The Apotheosis of the Astral Flame
Awaits
You
Starry-Eyed
Phantasmagoreans~
Celestial Morphology © is the multi-epistled poem which I sired during the Estival vicissitude. Twas an ineffable cadenza that exhales of the incorporeal essence of mine entity. I had been toiling in sweat, blood, and tears over a written project at the time; consequently, this is the thematic poem begotten.
     It transmutes the zeitgeist of my summer into the Golden Raiment of Polymathy. The oppressed coals of my woe erupted from the igneous core of my heart as these adamantine words. This starry soundscape is the astral crux of my work during 2018.
      I think that there was a vast expanse of my understanding of the world that had been repressed. It had almost been veiled from the heightened sight of my Over-Soul. This was in my sheltered, infantile longing to elude heartache. To keep the flesh- sundering maladies of the world outside my apartment walls: love, passion, iniquity, penitence, forgiveness, piety, cultural fission, intolerance, injustice, indignation, divinity, melody, mysticism, schism, mania, trepidation, faith, wisdom, darkness, and temporally transcendent pain.
          This was my transcribed anarchy against a Fascist Regime. A country exalting body that calls its denizens creationists whilst they slaughter every creation under the sun. The sociological edicts that dictate how art should be produced, the pace, that tell us not to speak of discrimination and mold us to turn a blind eye to the harsh realities of 21st-century postmodern society heavied the air. I just needed to vent and let every bit of internalized asperity or self-directed hatred out in a beautifying paradigm.
      I'm realizing more and more that life is tough and quite frankly, short. I'd rather write for an infinitude on one poem, for the sake of saving myself, rather than compromising my own integrity (and creative latitude). The writing was becoming a drag: less about quality, and more about quantity. Thus, after months of phantasmagorical drought, I bestow a glistening glade of sterling words.
I hope this poem reverberates upon thine soul waves. Please comment as I am open to any feedback; moreover, I beseech it of thee. My deepest gratitude comrades.

Excelsior Forevermore,

Sanders Maurice Foulke III
Michael P Smith Jul 2012
It's made in me
The way of me
So loving & savory,
What do I speak of?
My dear instinctive bravery
Insatiably
A heart of gold engraved
in thee,
Solemnly a gift from God
given gracefully.



Questioned by many about
my dashing courage
Noble-minded behavior,
Intrepidity
Superman-like favor,
Saving a life with intent
& untapped wit
Comforting to the mind
So very major.


Put my life on the line
for someone in need
Even for animals, treated,
As loved ones indeed
Deference
Urbanity
It sits well as my creed,
So many think of me
as crazy, somewhat insane
For having such a desire
of valiance within my brain,
Why salt my game?


Because I'm so in tact
with life?
The beauty it holds?
Mettle with heartfelt
kindness to my delight?
I can't help it
I must protect & serve,
MINUS THE BADGE
Pains me to see a
damsel in distress
No tender heart deserves.


I know that every situation
is not my problem
Shouldn't concern me some
would say,
Like a man beating his wife
while the kids cry & stray
In daylight even
Never could I look away,
I'm sorry
I feel I must jump in to
save my quarry,
Who knows I may be
in over my head,
But I can care less at times
Must save the prey from the
predator, can't consume of spoiled
bread.


Whether its a car speeding
about to run over a baby
Or a relentless fire in a
building coursing to burn a lady,
With my mind attentive, laced
with uncontested audacity,
Boldness
Courtesy
Reverence
All out strong Tenacity,

I'm here, Im here...


Good guys are yet to be
seen
Daredevils that are truly
serene,
But no matter what
I'm here,
With my mind & Valor
Have no fear
A young soldier
is near,
At your service I'll be
around to help
Take a stand with me
Let me lend a hand for thee
With my beautiful, yet
Ravishing Gallantry....


©Michael P. Smith
JL Aug 2013
I am king of cart b4 the horse-intrepidity in the golden silence
But I am also a little white rabbit.
I sit
Upon the solitude waiting to find meaning
And just then my old friend walks in

His name is Robert but that is unimportant
He once sold his furniture for blues
And his wife was not happy when she got home
From hot vacation

This is none of our buisness
But she whisper whisper anyway
Until her words trailed off
Sobs

Old Robert came to work today
You see he did my job b4 me and you know that he could do a much finer job than I.
Much finer.

You see he slept alone in a twin bed sweating for weeks
He he he
Ha ha so much sweat to get off the pills
But he couldn't take the old sick, poor rob
His bones ached


He looks at me
As if I were a river rat heaved soaking wet upon the shore (sober) before his feet
Heaving for a breath of that **** air
I'm no better than him
My bones felt like they were froze solid once
And I had thick nightmares  so vivid
I once climbed up on that horse
It was not so easy to climb down

His wife said goodbye
And his two little girls played in the back seat
He didn't care because he had Ace on speedial

He played good guy
Mr. Clean but that saying about:
Once a ******
Until she let him sleep on the queen sized matress
Next to her again
His little darlings lie awake reading by flashlight



Here he stands before me
And I am tempted to ask for a hook
(Just one ******* dilauded is that too much to ask just one come on  ive been really good I deserve it djdjdksksndjajam ndiejsoskzndjdkskabxhiencbcnrjrjfnrjeisn ego)
He shows me how to do my job the right way
You have to do it like this
Like this like this like this
******' geek I will punch your lights out
As if u would feel it eh?

His pupils were too narrow to fit a pin through
And his hands shook
The old wonderful itch
Oh YES!
Here and there
Upon the neck
The back of the knee
The bicep etc.

I could see it
I could smell and taste the old life on him
The familiar buzzing that seemed to dance on the end of his hair
A fresh track mark on the top of the left hand
I am no better than rob
But he is better than me
I hate him in my heart a thick cancer malignant spreading as rainclouds
Through the soul

I love him brother lets go to south beach and buy out Ace
And I love you. I want to climb inside oblivion and **** me
David Barr Dec 2013
How bombastic is the traditional English breakfast, as she spreads her colorful and cardiac enticements across the span of our traditional expectations.
We have far surpassed the golden age of steam, my gorgeous friend of midnight festivals.
Their truly is an eerie silence which is deafening, when seaweed caresses the surface of oceanic intrepidity. So, my brother of anthropological inseparability – kiss the breeze of this powerful and enigmatic mysticism.
I praise the shamanic divinations of Bolivian forests, where entrails are the delight of Haruspex and the Erythroxylum Coca bends her rigid stem on the West face of the Andes.
I have one question to ask of thee: How do we truly interpret Mesopotamian liver?
While there was the alchemical conclave with Valekiria and the ****** foliage of her in the veins of her beloved, the lightning of the advent of the palfreys was felt. Etréstles, goes out and looks through the strip of the between tent, making sure that Alexander the Great's entourage of Tágmati was there, bringing him his missive, Etréstles warns Mardiath and the others. While the General retreats in awe with his Leonatus falling to the ground depressed from some of the blades, from the riddled herds and the nits of the lycaon in the middle of dismounting. He sneaks up to the marquee where his main commander Vernarth was! He sees him surrounded by inexorable probes ..., pre-existing of such prosapia and losses of the Poimenandros, in all the Shepherds of Men who approached a greater one, when breathing in their exchanges of credibility, and of Vernarthian passion archeology when being introduced by his thoracic pectoralis right, leaving here before his eyes the visible and bloodless of his main artery.

Alexander the Great says: “Khaire, I wish joy to my distinguished Commander Vernarth… !. The General Raises his hands clicking and spreading tiny earrings, to grind them on his face, they were sent by the Falangists, paying homage to him! They were pieces of horse leashes with gold fillets that they ripped from the hooves of cavalry, and from the breastplates of bruised containers. With the tips of their fingers upwards and from his face, they appealed higher to Apollo's presence, and then they bowed to him.

He says: “The last time I saw your individual, we had alternated him to see the enormous bravery of his over-proportioned of him, which our Vernarth imposed in battle. You arranged your army in such a condition so that we would face all its parts forming a large rectangular, at such exterior angles where only your fierceness peeked out, being able to face thrusts derived from anywhere, not being an angle outside the defensive geometry. I saw myriads of Arrows fall on our army, I paid attention to our Lord Vernarth Hetairoi, going with his right Thoracicae Pectoralis lacerated, also semi hanging with his Aspis Koilé. You had your thigh and shoulder blade with impostor arrows that did not detract your spirits to continue ****** trampling of enemy Persian angels, being incapable before you! You mounted Alikantus and with all your momentum in an extreme insane act, you ravaged his insistent enemy ranks. There the omega happened in its exalted moment that I could see over your great courage and bravery, beheading all the Achaemenid troops. Today we have won thanks to your invaluable recklessness. Now I will go after Darío, after his escape in search of new scrolls, which is what the world did behind him, who should never have exposed himself against our alliance with our army and his historicity "

Vernarth replies: "Khaire, Chairetízo ton dioikití mou gia to thánato tou pesménou phantasma, I salute my Commander for the death of the Fallen Ghost." All submerged in the Dorus-Xifos with multiple edges impregnated in the fractions of the kardiá, like a new blood alliance that has to provide us with a new life beyond our deaths. In the hand of the smithy, smith will reside the new land where we have to implement new expeditions. " Brisehal, my Hound of Dash-e-Lut, stifled his ambitions by tarnishing superfluous designs. Now on his broken plain dystrophy, there are signs of panics, which only He instilled on undamaged bodies in the Falangists, they are deponents of our intrepidity, and of the wild rebellion that caused the flight of the Achaemenids. On the glory that did not cease to aspire, I will go in my stir up to meet my paradisiacal ancestors, gratifying the great brotherhood to the kingdom of creation by bustling through the great chimneys of Hestia, and from the universe, departing from its own powers of power, and from the uncontestable love, which makes us coexist with our extremities without anything being clearer than the very trace of their gales, more exceptional than the same that others must reward with adhesion by representing them under all limits that exceed the superior ends. "

From that moment on, everything narrowed into territories of energy, faced with the excesses of events and energetic waste that extended into exquisite archeology of evangelizing events, where its background fluctuations of retro causalities, entered into the observation of the events of energy that was filtered with the elementary particles. They were the crowning of eternal energy that makes the total summary of the elliptical trajectory of the orbit of the electron, as a virtual particle in which they refer to the muon (µ), it will be this massive elementary particle, with spin ½ with negative electric charge, with its mass 207 times greater than that of the electron, with a somewhat longer life than other unstable particles. It is associated with its corresponding antiparticle, the antimuon (µ +), the perfect interaction of the particles and Higgs and Muon, they will marry in the cloud chamber of the Patmos tunnel, becoming active at elevation 197 of the Wonthelimar vertical, at detecting the presence of electromagnetic field that will bend with the early arrival of the fourth Zefian Arrow. Everything was curved as it passed through this field, mediating between the proton and the electron, called the mesotron. Everything evolved with the mass of active light that was teleported by the neutrinos that imploded from Zefian's arrow, a few light-years before reaching contact with the Megaron Áullos Cosmos and the rest of the Katapausis, to allow for the spatiality of the vast numbers of the transversality of the millennial process, and of cosmicity between the elemental and theological physical actors, revealing the blunt veracity of the concatenation of passion archeology, for purposes of the Cosmos Ultramundis valuing the retransformation of consciousness, and shallow souls for a theological quantum becoming.
Codex XVI - Ultramundis Tertium Finale Bumodos
Olivia Kent May 2013
A Meeting of Great Minds

First vision of creature strange ,
In chill,
Iced day,
Pillar box nose,
Snow on his lips,

Primordial instincts all cried 'caution'
Loud at first,
Then the bubble burst,
Coffee, my cure all,
Answered natures glory call,
Calmed fears intrepidity,

Felt touch strange about this fellow,
This wicked poet's really mellow,
Swept me off my poets feet,
Jumped the train,
Hit his street,
This is all simplicity,
In truth filled with complexity!

Met a friend,
Encountered lover,
The ultimate one,
I did discover,
In continual writes,
We meet and greet,
Find it hard to be discreet!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Sweats have turned blood
My legs are weak
Temporary turning me *******
I can no longer move
Not a single step forward

My sorrow overwhelming, consuming
I've travelled alone, left alone
Hopelessly helpless in my journey
In this tunnel of depression
I'm condemned to suffer forever

But wait!
I see something
I can finally see
the end of the tunnel
from where I worthlessly lie
Greeting me with a shiny light
As bright as sun

Light, they say is hope, assurance, intrepidity,
life, end of darkness, new beginning...
Help is here!
The suffering is almost over
The curse of an unending loneliness
Is broken, perhaps

Find me strength
To drag myself once more
To endure the pain one last time, hopefully
Yes! Light!
It brightens per each pace I move

But what if it is a train approaching?
What if it's only a figment of my imagination?
Just like the last time - countless times
It makes things worse each time, quite deceptive
And yet, it feels, like them all
A demure river converges with the sea and turns into a scepter of intrepidity.

My eyes try to follow every ebbing wave into the strands of illimitable resurrection.

The wind carries the clouds toward a ruffled terrain and turns sunshine into rain.

Reckless movements seem to convey the act of solicitous tenderness.

A forsaken lighthouse on a deserted island tries to revitalize the ship that never arrived.

The enlightenment seems to brighten up its separateness

From the world of decreasing congeniality.

The resplendent pasture seems to absorb the colour from the verdant trees.

Scintillating dewdrops variegate the cusp of the grass like an exhilarating crown.

The inaudible murmur of pastoral life wraps the passing day in its tranquil impeccability.

The lucent stars seem to burn the vacuousness of night with its satiating fire.

Nature seems to have become the harbinger of my lost words

That long ago manifested my dauntless but wretched love for you.

The uncanny omnipresence of the unbarred memories seems to amalgamate

The unreciprocated past and the abeyant present.

Stirring thoughts in an invigorating mind seem to lose its scrupulousness

In the midst of these harrowing days of ruthless truthfulness.

The metaphors of nature seem to have juxtaposed with the feeble pieces of my fragile heart.

The ineradicable retrospection of moon-sharing nights seem to have emerged

From the irreducible darkness around me.

The twinkling shadows of inseparable hearts seem to converge

Into the enticing hills of the unlit valley.

The honest moon seems to have lost its sagaciousness in the night of relinquished lovers.

The closing day is enamored of the festering odor of onrushing annihilation.

The transcendental road to salvation merges into the heath of transcalent despondency.
The poem is all about how we look at nature and create a picture of our own feelings by using those natural things and connect them to our own heart, our beloved's eyes, and our inseparable presence in the world.
Olivia Kent Jun 2013
Simply Scratched!

You scratched your name indelibly,
In blood across my heart!!
Intrepidity,
In incantations,
As two souls collide,

A duo of fools,
We want to dance,
As we dance we whirl,
Swirling in rhythmic curl,
This crazy man,
With little girl,
This little woman,
Well nearly fifty,
Crazy full of fire
A stroke of silence left inside,
Until now,

In quicksand we were sinking,
Trying to ******,
A flash in time,
Inside you'll find I have a heart,
I look in you,
Guess what I find,
You have one too,
Shown openly in our lady,
Lady poetry she's our art!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Mohd Arshad Sep 2018
Travel the unknown with intrepidity.
It's the promising pomegranate.

A tad bit hard when you open it,
But contains a host of gifts.

How wonderfully
one is connected to other.
Each one is amazing
and nourishing in its own way.

I have purchased over the years.
It's your turn to explore your luck.
Mirza Lazim Nov 2017
What should I do?!
Help me,
I am bewildered,
As all normal things are becoming weird.
What is real?
Your fear or my hurt?
Let's in a while change our 'chairs',
I suggest you leave your traditional chains.
Which are forgivable?
My lies or my real pains?!

And you make me lie, knowingly I hate it
'Cause you carry inside your worry
You try to make me put off my coat
Like in the story,
As the wind tries with violence.
Which is more valuable?
My excuses or your silence?!

I lied, but I am on the same way,
With my inner wrath to slavery
With full of force going ahead.
Which do you want to choose?
Your anger or mine instead?!

It is really hard
To lose the light I found with you,
And it is very perishing for me
To fight with you
I wish you were much more deeper,
At least as an insane poet.
Still, I struggle with him inside,
And he resists saying 'do it!'
I see his anger to my lies and cowardice,
I see his anger to all existing realities...

Now I try to pierce into your deepness...
I have seen both reflections of tears in your eyes
Tears of thankfulness and regretting.
With the first one, I began to live,
With the second one, I blundered and dag my own grave.
Resist only one of them, make a human choice in your cot,
Decide, what was better for me?
And for you from me getting?!
The real ones which were yours or the fictions were not?!
Did you burn my inner feelings I gave to you?
Did you ignite them because they were not yours?!
I wish you had burned them courageously before,
When you deemed that they really were yours!
....And the reality is,
They had always been!
I just lied to make you sure and that you were not afraid
And I tried to hurt myself rather than you,
With my lies and with your untrustworthy attitude.
But my those feelings will remain gallant and nothing can change,
You have only ashes of them you deserve,
And it is something like my revenge.

You made me be stingy,
You broke my hands with full of merit and joys
Maybe it was like you were getting first-time toys?!
I am not a playground, sorry,
I only intended to rejoice
The precious one who made me feel deepest...

And all my presents are now spread around,
You can get them when you will only be courageous,
However, I cannot give them anymore.
And I will keep my apathy again as I had kept for ages.
Was it too hard for you to be respected?!
Maybe you were not too mature to hold them
And you had more shaky hands than I expected?!

What the hell would happen, tell me please,
If you were generous and brave forever?!
If you were not afraid like for the first time?!
We could hold it together with you,
We could hold it without any fault or crime,
We could hold it regardless of nonbelievers,
We could call it even something trustful and new,
Like the feelings inside of sisters and brothers...

You said that we give the meaning to anything,
So, I named all the things sacred related to you,
That's why I did not keep them secret,
And never hesitated to tell,
But you came around with your cold anger
And I saw you even call sacred - the hell
And you tried to persuade me to it also.
Thank you, I have my own hell inside
Which never can be accepted as holy
But I would never want to show it to you,
I would never want to make you down, of course,
I have my own god who shares only intrepidity and mirth
And my god is not cruel as yours!
You justify and forgive the fault of your god,
Who created the satan and committed the worst crime,
But you are ready to judge and even denounce me -
A straggler drowning in the depths -
Like the most dishonest one
For my unwilling and unruly misbehavior.
I perceive the truth,
That you can never understand me
And never can be on my side...
I stand beyond good and evil,
But you can embrace only simple contents.
You are not mature for virtue of not embarrassing someone,
You own only habits,
One example - just to ignore peculiarity.
We will be only on our own ways hereafter,
And all that we had lived we will brush aside,
Maybe it is not even your own fault,
Just we are like to our gods inside.
With your tyrannic and frightening creator,
Go ahead, don't stop and go forward!
But I say - I hate him!
And I always will hate!
Because he made us be shallow and coward!
He taught you to fear of something you really feel
And to run out from what you cannot understand.
He taught you to be superficial,
Fearing that one day you may surpass him,
He was afraid of the questions one day you may ask him.
He forbade deeper ones, precious ones.
He taught you only one name of feelings or thoughts,
But various ones to myself I have taught...
So he hates and he is afraid of variety of my senses as you do
Senses in fact which are pure and contain no unforgivable fault.
To what extent even my senses excel,
I trust myself and I will always tell!
So happy I would be if we could interact,
So sorry, you did not trust and were afraid in fact...
Though, I had told you - trust me till the end!
So sorry, I made you hurt sometimes,
Forgive me, please, forgive me,
Now I know that I had no chance,
Now I know that I have no chance
Because the path on which once I felt grace
Now is full of mistrust and suffers.
The life I have just existed for years
In a while became a place livable and meaningful
It lost all miseries, pains and tears.
In my world, my every piece greeted it like royal,
However, it was rashly considered betrayal...
aint John the Apostle says: "Zephian, the computer of the Duoverse of the Verthian world, signals the order of his creation of the world according to the transcendental vegetable living matter in the interstices of time itself that exists within sidereal time. Pointing out that matter and time are governed by mythological beings in a compartment with monotheism defined by atavistic laws, which are the omnipotence of the intense hiding place of procreation, super-providing large contextual residences, for habitat and a world on the scales of non-resident elders who go from passers-by between lines and cosmological phenomena in the Duoverse, facing the vicissitudes of stars and physicality added to the arcs of the reminiscence of emotions. Thus the main task and how the structure of the experience surpasses wisdom, making the orthogonal movement of the Universe fictitious, but Verthian with great explorations of matter that is absolutely quantified and volatilized to the field of incorporeal existence. The laws will be governed by its demiurge organizer Zefián, describing codes that will verify pivotal performances in the reactions of the mutant universe. His refractions when reasoning of the consummated phenomenon start from here in the distinguished biological one, which will surpass the laws of physics, since its ratio-value is above the limits allowed by the brave line of gravity that bounces off the lines and their distances, promoting more criteria to resist the threats of a possible tiring case, a product of some relative dominance not included in all the worlds among themselves or in some judgment that does not rescue us from the loss of links of a certain omitted coordinate, attracting us to a universe ruled towards hemicycles of merely material and non-biological-existential particles. The dimensions range from the beginning of the universe itself, more delayed than the interval of the second limit of space that rests to inaugurate the next one. It will be the orbit of translation twice rotating to the sun, but nth times turning on itself to go out to another stellar dimension not present. Its geometry will be the administration of the resumption of cinnabar in Tsambika and Helleniká, to annul each other by making and integrating it in Patmos, on the shores of Skalá, with curvatures that validate the nullity of successive factions of material lives, among spiritual victims if alive. The oblation and concavity of the Duoverse will be of universal contact in excessive proximity in a few radios to support the equidistant gravity between both atmospheres, adopting the subsequent consequences with a shared micro-existence in both universal Astro units, as a dense but fractal particularity fragmented to changes coercive in the conception of creation, of the original true world, gestated in a pristine Kosmous and resistance modeling of high intermediate masses of temperatures, expanding above what surrounds, under a flexible world that opposes resisting, but that unfolds to relocate to its origins of integrity and adaptable physical material. Duoverso is born and will reappear every time the years are subject to the devastation of everything quantifiable and not, under the dim light that will light up all the darkness, Zefián being in paronymy in what is missing to appropriate sustenance and merit of having it adsorbed. in the tabernacle of the Vas Auric and its namesake Medayllon, in the privilege of appearance itself, adding in what is preserved from physical support without a doubt right there. A fair sidereal speed will have to travel on its own axis of rotating time in the paradoxical gear of the One-Dimensional Beams with the same reconverted into vital angelic luminance, creating orbits of optics in the visions of Christian profanity. It empowers them to enable them in overexcited that derive from disorders of intermittence and physics of time, to reinsert themselves in the sequence that inhabits the residual velocity of the Beam, as a Theo-Philosophical entity, and of the cellular multiplicity in seasonal cells. of the retrograde lapses frozen in Qumram, so as not to depend on its Kabbalah sustained by the regime of a compound past, and of the inconcrete yesterday. The immediacy was surpassed, preserved in the conviction of the One-Dimensional Beams (Kafersesuh), observing itself more densely when all revolutionary extinction admits to being in the proper place to integrate and ponder peremptorily, attracting organic and inorganic matter suspended in the richness of a world of scientific but unique Faith. , and Single incessant prayer, more anti-gregarious and dilapidated than what is supported by vain walls, which do not exist in Verthian emotional matter. Its movement and translation are always advanced, even before we coexist, already being domains of being transposed of what was, is, and will be transposed and floating in its abrogated form!

The movements, being physical, take us over conjectured layers to discern their magnitude by percentage the rigor of their measurement on us, in exchange for Zefián's ambivalence, delivered both chromatics of the Dark and White Duoverse, with the reference of the behavioral alternations of the Diospyros, spring of the arboreal, for the procreation granted in the hands of Leiak. Sustaining from this equational exercise, with less time to design for its genealogy, but rather in its apocalypse reinstalled in null primary unknown spaces, to have it again in the light of consciousness, recognized as an inert matter of the past, and more alive of the immanent eternity of nebulae that personalize the Abrojo earring, taking temporality but null as it does not ****** any hand to tear it from its own. Every divided and subdivided elementary particle of the Duoverse will gravitate under what is speculated, rising in total harmony through the accommodating compressions of a whole material accessory, especially in sudden death processes, which occurred illustrated and not compressed in the percentage eternity of materiality of the dark. (current) and luminous (happened), being those who govern it will manifest anticipations of everything dark (present) and luminous (past-future), for the energetic alternation succumbed so many times, like a uniform cross in the center of the world after so many times having fallen in past-future.

Says Vernarth : "in the rhetoric of the Universe-Duoverse theorem, it is worth noting the topic of the past with a present and future entity as well but atopic or out of place Hellenic, connected to the time of Verthian inspiration, Holderlin-Heidegger indefinite in terms of habitability physical, as a complement to the entity that anticipates the present/future in the vicinity of death in the topical past and future, but tangentially with lively whims of atopic mortal-existentialism, being a way of renting virtual death, and as a way of being dwelling in death itself and its act of embodiment, then having existed but with its own edict after having rented it. The Verthian World appears in this stereotype, prolonging existences from the atopic non-existence, granting it a complementarity of more past scientific romantic life, after an uninhabited death. Ontologically, this theory is born from the One-Dimensional Beams of Kafersesuh, in Ein Karem. Essentially paleo-Christian, as the matrix of existence between Ein Karem (Manger of the Messiah) and Gethsemane, inter nexus of the materiality of metaphysical inflections product of the immaterial purpose of unlived and hypothetical life, as an urgent sacrilegious decline, anticipated of the dimension of the life-death-life process of Comparative Christian Messianism.

Vernarth says: "with the slaves, in my disparate hands I picked up what the other carried. With my right hand, I took the Duoverse, and with the other my bearer; that I had my commands on the maxims of Elpenor before falling to the cliff. One naughty day but with the worst pain in my chest I went to see him in his room, and I structured him as an immortal when it came to forming the world "not even knowing of being part of an identity" favoring him to be part of my deflagration convulsed by the friction of the Universe on the Duoverse. Such was that bravery and affordability, that he decorated me with some unexpected laments of belonging by imprisoning me with superfluous boasting. But his boldness will be mine, and he will have to anticipate it in the middle of a fight, such as in Gaugamela hurting my two spirits, one deleterious and the other not..., Says the Porter: "I have to accede to your mandate, my lord Vernarth, I have arranged my horse emetics to take him to the empyrean, more unusual at nightfall. I know that my own absence will also take her, because we are double lives loving her, falling into a night given over to the seventh Phalangist soldier. Between souls already diluted by the misfortune of the sap, in the figure of eternal death that refuses to receive us discouraged" Says Vernarth: "I don't know if I am or will be brave, therefore I have forgotten to take the herd, rather I don't I know what it is?, but in the midst of the horses and hosts of the block, from the Syntagma in Gaugamela that I have not felt again what it is to take my herd after feeling my hands and legs divided, but not feeling when appropriating some parabens amputated. I know that among the hypaspists we tricked umpteenth arrows in the mobilization of the war machine 665, but in a wasteful jump we gathered the delusion of the Phalangist command in the Seleucid 666 ringlera, rather detached from all men, substantially inclined to Alexandrian life, "Of course it was already in the hands of eternity, which hurts more than the tip of an arrow even if I perjured myself to its annihilation" Vernarth's act of intrepidity and daring would take him over the precipice that even skewed and declined the world as it sustained him, putting his fellow man face to face, as antagonist and protagonist at the same time with his chest flowing over the white linens that they spoke of certainties of a scaffold, still where others surrounded them with peace and Olympian protection, making him..., only today the pair of himself abstracted with contemptuous lineage..., even having to reinstitute himself as Vernarth most elusive of being alive and eternal, still having in its vocabulary the essence of knowing Being Heideggerian, with firsts of erudition, starting from the nova on excitation, having cognition and knowing oneself diligently about the entities alter evidences of the recent-present, and not in the tyrannized Universe, rather of its present-event of the new universe for itself negative, and towards a gift of neatness granting it recklessness that continues to disperse its entity, its dimension, the locus of it, the distances, the matter to welcome in its be. Vernarth besieges his cogitative discursive, raided in tides of tenements and scales of belatedly changing vibration with all the heroics of following and all the world ideologies of harassing technical acumen with the target in the necropolises that he speaks resurrected, not lying the chimera in the best districts to the leisure to revive, more immortal than a district..., and learned steps with constitutive slogans in "cities succumbed, without blemish..., with eternity", connoting after all transfer abolished, in the present infinity between two units of mortal rank, the Carrier and Vernarth, Vernarth and Heidegger, but here the last one bringing the closest radiogram between the herd and eternity with a significant dilemma (End and chaos) and eternity (creation), in the limbo-purgation ratio, as source and potion. The generality of success and affinity in Heidegger's dialectic, a moment signs his reincarnation in the raving of finite eternity, moving away from Verthian ontological and metaphysical reasoning. He magnetically juxtaposed the Universe, bordering on restless ambitions, such a substance of perpetual equanimity towards the unworthy survivor of Vernarthian theories. So far no resemblance that compares to whoever wants it or not is part of any estimate or conjecture sheet of a complex Duoverse, but rather dreaming as an active or vague star without anything or anyone knowing that it springs from it or that, abstracting from the nullity of a nihilistic kosmous of itself in the Necropolis of Hellenika. Within the emerging frontis of a progeny, there are ranges derived towards the first to form rows composed of shelters of the Giant Camels that from Jerusalem escorted them with their planting consciences to Ein Karem, then returning to Gethsemane to end up in the port of Jaffa. Originally arranged by the children of Israel and bastions; Vernarth, Saint John the Apostle, Eurydice, Raeder, and Petrobus with the animality, Etréstles, and Kanti, to finally cite King David and his velvety phylactery addressed to his edicule before they departed for Jaffa, to return west to Patmos. Of this primogeniture, the legatee is Vernarth, being presented as co-first-born by abnegating his portion to Saint John the Apostle for fiduciary assets for the benefit of a third party for both and granting the patriarchal reinstatement to each of his inheritances, the purpose being expedited in liberation from the world that sheltered them inauthentically in the midst of ascending ancestors. This prerogative will be decisive in defining the dimension of the Duoverse and One-Dimensional Beams, since a brotherhood of worldliness, nascent and simultaneous, will diverge them in the beams that support the universe, and from this, they will be transferred to the vision of Vréfos- (child-man) , Child-Cherub, for the purpose of specifying the Universe-Duoverse physically composed of four areas of consistency. Time, Being, Divinity and the Four Wings of the Cherub, as a concept of biodiversity in Lepidoptera, Bumblebees, Bees, Wasps, and Fireflies so that these tetra-winged animal entities cause warnings and impositions on the cardinals poles of its primogeniture, being born from chaos, until now as Duoverse constituting the alpha Vréfos, nascent of the Animalia and "Andres" intermediate perspectives in the heights that guide the material essences of the distributive physics and spiritual and imperishable elemental. The ineffable matter, the stars will prostrate themselves before each pause of advent and herds that carry Secundum Dictus Vivere, in pursuit of a gnoseological doctrine made a pledge of servile an instant rescinding in another, for the study of the sense of conceiving itself in diligent part of a new orb In the dividing lines of the unknown and the repelled nothingness, suspecting himself of a living arterial vile in the skeptical nothingness. We tend two of non-existence that ratifies it, or perhaps of a twin-univiteline Duoverse and of the chaos of non-fertilized nature..., rather empowered towards the first fiduciary by the jurisprudence of the district of the unattachable Messiah. Allow yourself thus, before this premise of history, to continue and be part of an establishing whole looking for Hashem in an unknown world and Kosmous too..., more so swaying before the appearance that sustains you, as cardinal knowledge of values and immobile Certainty. The centric lineage hypothesis will define the blood lineage, unifying the Duoverse.
Pealim Abba
You leave your mother's home, to serve the bigger home- your motherland.
Raw, young and fiercely trained, you swim undaunted in strange waters.
The currents and inherent dangers do not deter you.
We salute your venturesome spirit and lion-heartedness.
You are courage personified.
What more to say O Courageous Man-at-arms !

Dangerous missions and risky operations beckon you.
You rush without any fear of injury or death.
To demolish the enemy and accomplish harmony.
We salute your unwavering dedication and mettlesome attitude.
You are valiance personified.
What more to say O Valiant Rifleman !

You safeguard our frontiers with your impenetrable gaze.
You suffer the deepest wounds and scars of battles.
You brave solitude, adversities, unpredictabilities and infinite toils.
We salute your unparalleled intrepidity and tenacity.
You are duty personified.
What more to say O Dutiful Cannoneer !

Your family profoundly prays for you while you are away.
Your children miss their daddy moments in their growing years .
But motherland is your first love being wedded to the olive green.
We salute your unrelenting devotion and absolute loyalty.
You are trust personified.
What more to say O Faithful Cavalier !

Coffin draped in tricolour, bugler playing 'The Last Post' is heart-wrenching.
Homecoming of a fallen warrior is so heartbreaking.
Countrymen stand by you, your stoic wife, bereaved parents and wailing children.
We salute you for your supreme sacrifice, soldiering and deeds of derring-do.
You are heroism personified.
What more to say O Honourable Infantryman !

You give your today for our tomorrow.
Forever you live up to the motto- valour and wisdom.
Your service before self is embodiment of love for motherland.
We salute you for upholding the highest moral and ethical values.
You are hope personified.
What more to say O Worthy Soldier !


(Composed by Preeti Pathak from India. Please do visit my blog preetikandpalpathak.blogspot.com)
Mohd Arshad Apr 2018
All aged efforts,
Going down the drain,
Dare with Intrepidity
To kidnap happiness.
Address isn't a spider
In the corner
Or somewhere else
Behind the door.
It's the wind,
Walking and wandering.
Whet thy kindness
To blandish,
And truss of thy neighbour,
Of a beggar, of a bride
Or of a playing child
With thy hope,
If you could see it
With any of them.
Remember,
It flies like the ghost.
Jasper bateman Nov 2018
I run through the darkened street;
Darker than the night;
and look in every face I meet,
and I wonder how they see the light,

I run across a square of tyranny;
I run though  markets full  of evil blight;
I run and see victims of dark villainy,
and I wonder how they see the light,

Darkness, evil, bane and upheaval;
A symphony of errors;
Rule of anarchy, rule of evil;
Kings killed by night-time terrors,

So come and visit - come and see;
This horrible entertaining darkening plight;
Come in all your intrepidity,
and I will wonder how you see the light.
labyrinth Nov 2020
Diminishing sincerity
******* polarity
Excessive irrationality
Abundance in disparity
Ever-increasing barbarity
Fading income inequality
His, her or your vanity
Addiction to popularity
Translates to peculiarity
Governmental irregularity
A lot of corruptibility
Destitute of quality
Surplus of insensitivity
Lack of responsibility
Never ending animosity
Disengaging actuality
Too much sexuality
Accelerating obesity
Elites: Malicious fraternity
Utter contemptibility
All about profitability
Causing instability
What a pity
And!!!!
True solidarity
Complete clarity
A lot of integrity
Quite some serenity
Stronger immunity
Back to respectability
Definite profundity
Old-school verity
And impeccability
Absolute race equality
Mutual generosity
Much less paucity
None of docility
Financial security
Fixing credibility
Growing authenticity
Waning negligibility
No images, real identity
A little conventionality
Maybe some spirituality
For sure, intrepidity
Equal opportunity
Lasting prosperity
Happier humanity
With fine dexterity
All necessity
If not!!!
Inevitable scarcity
Impossible maintainability
Increasing immorality
Spreading brutality
Thus illegality
Sheer inequality
Additional vulnerability
Air and nature impurity
Much less inhabitability
A separating community
Everything’s overcapacity
Additional promiscuity
With less heterosexuality
Way more criminality
Presumably more oddity
Leads to inexplicability
Rising radioactivity
Unstoppable ferocity
Along with hostility
Political den of iniquity
All that potentiality
On the verge of criticality
Oh boy, a poor posterity
More than a possibility
Around the vicinity
Shame on complicity
The End!!!

— The End —