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TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
Thoughts descend
in neon whites of infinity
to hit the keyboard as an avalanche of words
to leave thumb-prints of ingenuity.

Words become cadaverous,
impotent to birth them.
They leave stillborns
with pale yellow shadows!

An eerie pain numbs my senses.
I suffocate.
O, had I become the unuttered word!
Tempus Fugit:

Nought is eternal,
Nox is ephemeral,
And
The Charred Canvas
Of
The Night Sky
(Noctis Lucis Caelum,
Scala Ad Caelum)
Bedarkened & besmirched, bespeaks
A
Love-Worn Wayward, Wayworn.

In the
Citadel
Of mine
Temporal Heart
Time
Streams infinitely
As an
Exhalation of The Ethereal One.


The Chronology of
The Arbiter of Fates
Shalt Destine,
Herald Eternitas
Upon
The Phantasmagoric Horizon
Of
Mine Mind's Sky
Wondering
Upon
Days of Yore.

(The Hither,
The Thither,
And
The Morrow.)

These
Luminescent Children are
Are born
To wax Luminaries
Then,
Wax Nebulous
For all eternity.

O, Metempsychosis;
Born of
Edicts Unseen,
Of that
Which was,
Is,
&
Will Be.

(For
All things
Are
Circular & Cycling,
Existentially.)

We were conceived
Infinitely
To
Infinity
And beyond.

Let He, Let She
Whose
Ears & Eyes
Of
The Unuttered Anima
Be unstopped, unfurled
To resonations:

Deep within.
The Emerald Lifestream Anew
Dost begin.

The Sovereign of Songbirds sings
Esprit d' amour
To those who wait.

(Se' Lah.)
Cosmic Reverberations
from
The Cosmo-Plexus of Empyreal Love,

The Communal Oneness
Tethering
The Denizens
Of
The Macrocosm

&

May You All
Effloresce
In the
Aeonic Light
of
The Empyrean One.

~Excelsior Forevermore~

-Sanders Maurice Foulke III-
Valsa George May 2016
Unexpected…..
So unexpected was the meeting
It was in the dim candle light
of a city restaurant that I saw her
How time had etched its marks on her
The long dark curly hair
has turned all white
The even set of pearly teeth
now discolored with missing gaps.
A weeping willow with gnarled branches!

Did she recognize me?
Her searching eyes registered
a limp awareness
Soon I saw her cataract eyes shining
in unclouded recognition!

My memory like the arm of a crane
lowered to plough up the hard crust of the past
and rose with heaps of broken rubble
I nosedived into the past
to the little village
where, as children we ran round
the long necked shady trees
until our little heads went dizzy

Stealing behind the tall grass
how I would suddenly yell out;
‘The thief is in hide
Come and track me if you can’
forcing on her an arduous search,
all the while giggling at her vain efforts!

How we ran after the ripe mangoes
that fell in ones and twos
when the winds shook the fruit laden boughs
and how we quarreled over the yellow ones
like mongrels over a piece of bone

I remember once when the drizzle
suddenly strengthened into a heavy down pour
with thunder and lightning accompanying,
how we ran dripping and frightened
seeking shelter in the empty cow shed
at the backyard of a house,
clasping tight to each other!
She was then a little girl
with springing feet and dancing steps
naïve and naughty with all mouth and ears

But as time skipped by
she kept a safe distance
No more I saw the former ebullience in her
In its place, a quiet reserve settled in
The chatterbox no more opened her mouth
To my questions, her answers were mono syllables
My efforts to walk by her side
always ended in futility
either she would quicken her gait
or lag behind at snail’s pace
Seeing me somewhere
she would walk away with eyes down cast
But I always noticed a faint smile
lingering on her curved narrow lips

Around it, I built my dream castle
where she reigned as my dazzling queen!
I am not sure how it was with her
One day even without an abrupt goodbye
I had to leave my hometown to an alien soil.

For long, she came, sailing in my dreams!

After a couple of years when I returned
to the land of my childhood
the mute witness to my unuttered passion
I knew from a close friend
that she was forced into a marriage
much to her consternation!
She is reported to have confided to someone
that she hoped the ‘thief who stole her heart
would one day, come out of hiding’

We met again
We heard each other’s cracked voice
and stood unable to recollect all

Much water had flown down
under the bridge
And we floated in the rush of currents!
This poem has to be understood in the light of the highly orthodox milieu of an Indian village of the time between 1960's and 70's when no computer or internet facility was available. There was a lot of segregation between the sexes and no free mingling was allowed. So there was no open expression of love. In a society where arranged marriage was preferred, even falling in love before marriage was seen as a taboo !

— The End —