yestereve we succame
A lengthy ballad of longing
formerly one of obstinance
flared in a cacophony of passion

Whilst usually twirling in a seemly epitome fashion,
yestereve a caprice thought laid heavy on hearts
as there was no doubt of desire
nor were there objections to her
for even when my affections consumed you
lady desire was just an inexorable

yestereve she picked petals from a Sinensis blossom
there went the pain
any semblance of grudge
along with sanity
reason
and lastly, walls as carefully constructed as that of Pyramus and Thisbe's
such vulnerability unmatched
for your sweet scent lulled me from the arms of reason
for reason, although safe,
is the most intricate and fragile part of the ballad
and the first to fall victim to the cascade

What a fool I must be to have gladly forgotten the kinks of your hands
or the freckles on the back of your neck that form a perfect triad.
The way your upper lip curls when you grin
made my glissade blissful and passionate
Your flustered twirl
the very epitome of aubade

Ignorant of the harsh retombe of reality
Your flustered face En L'air
Every touch a pleasant surprise that formed a grand symphony

A moment of unfiltered emotion
A heavenly ballad
so cruelly of yestereve.

To Jenny came a gentle youth
   From inland leazes lone;
His love was fresh as apple-blooth
   By Parrett, Yeo, or Tone.
And duly he entreated her
To be his tender minister,
   And call him aye her own.

Fair Jenny’s life had hardly been
   A life of modesty;
At Casterbridge experience keen
   Of many loves had she
From scarcely sixteen years above:
Among them sundry troopers of
   The King’s-Own Cavalry.

But each with charger, sword, and gun,
   Had bluffed the Biscay wave;
And Jenny prized her gentle one
   For all the love he gave.
She vowed to be, if they were wed,
His honest wife in heart and head
   From bride-ale hour to grave.

Wedded they were. Her husband’s trust
   In Jenny knew no bound,
And Jenny kept her pure and just,
   Till even malice found
No sin or sign of ill to be
In one who walked so decently
   The duteous helpmate’s round.

Two sons were born, and bloomed to men,
   And roamed, and were as not:
Alone was Jenny left again
   As ere her mind had sought
A solace in domestic joys,
And ere the vanished pair of boys
   Were sent to sun her cot.

She numbered near on sixty years,
   And passed as elderly,
When, in the street, with flush of fears,
   On day discovered she,
From shine of swords and thump of drum,
Her early loves from war had come,
   The King’s Own Cavalry.

She turned aside, and bowed her head
   Anigh Saint Peter’s door;
“Alas for chastened thoughts!” she said;
   “I’m faded now, and ****,
And yet those notes—they thrill me through,
And those gay forms move me anew
   As in the years of yore!”…

—’Twas Christmas, and the Phoenix Inn
   Was lit with tapers tall,
For thirty of the trooper men
   Had vowed to give a ball
As “Theirs” had done (fame handed down)
When lying in the self-same town
   Ere Buonaparté’s fall.

That night the throbbing “Soldier’s Joy,”
   The measured tread and sway
Of “Fancy-Lad” and “Maiden Coy,”
   Reached Jenny as she lay
Beside her spouse; till springtide blood
Seemed scouring through her like a flood
   That whisked the years away.

She rose, and rayed, and decked her head
   To hide her ringlets thin;
Upon her cap two bows of red
   She fixed with hasty pin;
Unheard descending to the street,
She trod the flags with tune-led feet,
   And stood before the Inn.

Save for the dancers’, not a sound
   Disturbed the icy air;
No watchman on his midnight round
   Or traveller was there;
But over All-Saints’, high and bright,
Pulsed to the music Sirius white,
   The Wain by Bullstake Square.

She knocked, but found her further stride
   Checked by a sergeant tall:
“Gay Granny, whence come you?” he cried;
   “This is a private ball.”
—”No one has more right here than me!
Ere you were born, man,” answered she,
   “I knew the regiment all!”

“Take not the lady’s visit ill!”
   Upspoke the steward free;
“We lack sufficient partners still,
   So, prithee let her be!”
They seized and whirled her ’mid the maze,
And Jenny felt as in the days
   Of her immodesty.

Hour chased each hour, and night advanced;
   She sped as shod with wings;
Each time and every time she danced—
   Reels, jigs, poussettes, and flings:
They cheered her as she soared and swooped
(She’d learnt ere art in dancing drooped
   From hops to slothful swings).

The favorite Quick-step “Speed the Plough”—
   (Cross hands, cast off, and wheel)—
“The Triumph,” “Sylph,” “The Row-dow dow,”
   Famed “Major Malley’s Reel,”
“The Duke of York’s,” “The Fairy Dance,”
“The Bridge of Lodi” (brought from France),
   She beat out, toe and heel.

The “Fall of Paris” clanged its close,
   And Peter’s chime told four,
When Jenny, *****-beating, rose
   To seek her silent door.
They tiptoed in escorting her,
Lest stroke of heel or ***** of spur
   Should break her goodman’s snore.

The fire that late had burnt fell slack
   When lone at last stood she;
Her nine-and-fifty years came back;
   She sank upon her knee
Beside the durn, and like a dart
A something arrowed through her heart
   In shoots of agony.

Their footsteps died as she leant there,
   Lit by the morning star
Hanging above the moorland, where
   The aged elm-rows are;
And, as o’ernight, from Pummery Ridge
To Maembury Ring and Standfast Bridge
   No life stirred, near or far.

Though inner mischief worked amain,
   She reached her husband’s side;
Where, toil-weary, as he had lain
   Beneath the patchwork pied
When yestereve she’d forthward crept,
And as unwitting, still he slept
   Who did in her confide.

A tear sprang as she turned and viewed
   His features free from guile;
She kissed him long, as when, just wooed.
   She chose his domicile.
Death menaced now; yet less for life
She wished than that she were the wife
   That she had been erstwhile.

Time wore to six. Her husband rose
   And struck the steel and stone;
He glanced at Jenny, whose repose
   Seemed deeper than his own.
With dumb dismay, on closer sight,
He gathered sense that in the night,
   Or morn, her soul had flown.

When told that some too mighty strain
   For one so many-yeared
Had burst her *****’s master-vein,
   His doubts remained unstirred.
His Jenny had not left his side
Betwixt the eve and morning-tide:
   —The King’s said not a word.

Well! times are not as times were then,
   Nor fair ones half so free;
And truly they were martial men,
   The King’s-Own Cavalry.
And when they went from Casterbridge
And vanished over Mellstock Ridge,
   ’Twas saddest morn to see.

What heroes from the woodland sprung,
  When, through the fresh awakened land,
The thrilling cry of freedom rung,
And to the work of warfare strung
  The yeoman's iron hand!

Hills flung the cry to hills around,
  And ocean-mart replied to mart,
And streams whose springs were yet unfound,
Pealed far away the startling sound
  Into the forest's heart.

Then marched the brave from rocky steep,
  From mountain river swift and cold;
The borders of the stormy deep,
The vales where gathered waters sleep,
Sent up the strong and bold,--

As if the very earth again
  Grew quick with God's creating breath,
And, from the sods of grove and glen,
Rose ranks of lion-hearted men
  To battle to the death.

The wife, whose babe first smiled that day,
  The fair fond bride of yestereve,
And aged sire and matron gray,
Saw the loved warriors haste away,
  And deemed it sin to grieve.

Already had the strife begun;
  Already blood on Concord's plain
Along the springing grass had run,
And blood had flowed at Lexington,
  Like brooks of April rain.

That death-stain on the vernal sward
  Hallowed to freedom all the shore;
In fragments fell the yoke abhorred--
The footstep of a foreign lord
  Profaned the soil no more.

Questions… if I don’t ask them they’ll get the best of me,
If I ask them at the wrong time, I’ll lose the answers,
Time itself will fail to digest in me.
Einstein said if such a thing existed it would be simultaneously,
So why did the past constipate me? Right now things are hard to swallow,
Because what I see is ahead, and, this **** is cutting me off from the rest of me.
“The important thing is not to stop questioning, curiosity has its own reason for existing.”
****** Albert, if this is food for thought, what’s the recipe?
And don’t say imagina… wait, if imagination is everything, then I’ll use it to remove the crap from yestereve.
Why did Arkyi have meaning? I mean, it’s palindrome did.
Maybe Iykra had an acronym for a reason.
I looked for the publisher but there was no trace or date, who ever did this wanted to remain hid.
I know it has some type of meaning,
Numerology says one, Astrology says Sun,
Horoscope says Attractive personality with a magnetic charm,
Why is Symbolism for rarity repeating?
Unity of one; structure of pride, purpose, and determination,
This raps into a kingdom in Israel and the culture of Hebrew,
That’s odd but I see the cohesion.
Odd because it goes back to a man named Abraham, the one that left Mesopotamia.
Crazy because Mesopotamia was linked with Atlantis, a global civilizations that fell after its main island suffered a sinking.
Now this is just my imagination guiding me, I’m not stating anything.
But, imagination is the tool to create, and I’m creating a line that’s linked in...
-Well at least that’s what I’m thinking,
Understand that I’ve reached a level of decoding messages many can’t comprehend,
It’s not me but it’s me, haha I’ll let that sink in.
Back to Abraham, Abraham means the father of many,
He died at one hundred and seventy-five years old.
Now get this, Noah died at nine hundred and fifty,
According to my research, reaching almost a thousand years of living was more than possible during the times of Atlantis, now that’s old.
Wait, before you give up on me, hear me out, I’m just looking for answers,
If it makes you feel better, assume that I’m thinking out loud with a different perspective that was never told.
Now I’m warning you these next few lines are gonna either make you question some things,
Or view me as a crazy man expressing opinions that are bold.
We’ve (meaning humans) have been in contact with 3 different extra terrestrial species,
You don’t have to believe me, but
They’ve been here for at least two hundred and seventy million years,
Don’t ask me how I know, ask yourself, why is this information being controlled?
These are 3 groups that have been competing before earth, understand as below, so above and as above, so below.
One of these groups created the dinosaurs which was an eighty-five million year experiment,
They later allowed the meteor to hit the earth because it was time for a new project,
If you noticed the mammal species on earth flourished immediately after, this is something to know,
God is very much in the picture, if anything, this shows its true power and infinite structures of life.
This isn’t new, it’s been foretold.
Our bodies were celled, yes, humans are about forty thousand years of age and counting,
But our souls are directly from the source, God, and we are not the body but a soul,
Whom inhabits a body for a physical experience,
Call it a matrix, call it a game, call it a school, call it whatever you want but the reality is after physical existence, there’s another place we go.
Now this is what makes us special, why we have so much support and why earth is currently the center of attention,
Because after Atlantis fell, we were given only thirteen thousand years to be ready to shift into the fifth dimension.
It took Atlantis twenty plus thousands of years to reach such ascension,
Thus explaining abductions, one of the reasons is for comprehension,
They’re trying to understand how humans have the ability to ascend past their extension.
As I said before, darkness is a limit, hatred, envy, greed; these are doors blocking the light.
Boundaries blocking the acceptance of all is why many can’t see or experience the same visions.
I’m trying to provide knowledge to those with ignorance, so that we are all able to achieve our true potential,
This opportunity is monumental, don’t blow it by making cowardly decisions.
Let’s not forget to mention, many died for this,
Many lied for this, many put their goals aside for this.
Many hide from this, voices rise for this, so that all instead of few are able to revive and arrive in bliss.
If the sunrise is missed, I hope that the deprived survive the sunset and deny divide and apply divine inside for flight in sight of demise, a device structure to contrive a goodbye when the next opportunity scripts.
Is Arkyi the future me showing the past me Iykra so that I am able to connect the dots and unite all before the me now becomes apart of a myth?
Einstein said, “No problem can be solved by the same level of consciousness that created it.”
After researching, imagination activates the cognitive mind, an intuitive shift,
Asking myself questions, and using imagination presented me answers that demodulated ****.
Albert: “The only source of knowledge is experience.”
This is me using  knowledge to educate how to experience knowledge from  within for the times we get discombobulated and quit.

Clear sapphire night
Shock of lilac scent
Thick, mesmeric
Milk moon rose yestereve
Perigee, gigantic
And you returned today while
Almond petals browned
In gutter drifts
Elder blossom opened
Nodding stems, white disks
And you took my breath away
The lilac scent, the blue night
The flutter of the spring breeze
And the sunset skyline's dying light.