I wish I was multidimensional. Then I could access my best memories and revisit those moments in the past, like in the year 1986, one year after my High School graduation... Last night, before I retired to bed, I felt the presence of God profusely. I felt reassured by the Word thereof and, namely, divine love overflowing to the brim. That very night, as I had fallen into a deep slumber, a night vision took me aback, as it were. For in this situation I was taken to my adolescent youth wherein I saw my father's delicatessen in the early 1980s. Within it, I stood spellbound and profoundly emotional by reason of the authenticity thereof as such. All the original utilities thereat were perfectly intact and with a high ceiling of the kitchen. Of course, Pleasant View, Colorado back then sported nearby video game consoles and arcade machines for people to fiddle with hither and yon. In those days of quieter bustle and thrift, the nearby Camp George West military base lay branched along the Old Golden Road where city busses conveyed commuters to and fro along a two-lane street interspersed with mercury vapor streetlights! But just being there, at night, within the ethereal memoir of my long remembered early youth, my father's delicatessen had been preserved even to this day. My bygone hangout where, whilst washing loads of large dishes for my parents, I pretended to be a robot with my friend Curt. A niche in Time whence all of my precious memories was a swollen river of another life I cannot revivify at present, but perhaps resurrect via Yahshua Messiah (Jesus Christ). Hence I've called my portal thereunto a gateway to the 'Mnemosyneopolis' or metropolitan reliquary of the Fourth Dimension. An old adjunct of eternal youth I shan't ever forget. No, not in this life, nor in the life to come... Although vacant and void of visitors, yet saturated with what once was. For herein lies our Memory Lane, lit up, but unforgotten; fully glazed, but ne'er smeared, smudged, nor fingerprinted; preserved, forever inviolate, and yet prepared for our contemporary presence. Yea, so that we can go bygone backwards and still be ourselves whilst doing it. Enter the 'Mnemoratorium'!
What Once Was Ad _________ We had a reservation In an upstate hotel, There was fine conversation And we slept so well. It was Sally and I On a big long trip: On our way north, Oh my! To Toronto to get a grip Of things on high Without a pink slip. But before we went To bed, we watched Cable. Hell, this we didn't rent; It was all free on the table! Our two nights were low In price, breakfasts included; Some fun and games below Our quarters intruded... Like Foosball and pinball, And a Gorf video game With Tempest at the wall Of a CRT television aflame! Ah, we slept soundly Altogether in our queen bed; Sweet dreams profoundly Echoed vistas outspread. The next day, after tasty Breakfast, we dove into the pool, As if feeling quite hasty To get wet in a duel! Later, off to Toronto We sped away indeed, On the Thruway and pronto In a vehicle, not via steed. For Sally and I our nights Were well spent and plush At an upstate hotel of delights, Insulated from the rush. Yet one thing I do recall Rather faintly but so strong: Those mercury sconces on the wall Lighted the premises all night long! So the next time you stop on by With your fellow lass or alone, Just look at those lamps, I sigh: Each one shaped like a cone. We drove our way up north To Toronto's metropolis vast, Around Lake Ontario shining forth Modernity or the bygone past. To the city of lights And palatial resorts, With luxurious nights, Museums and sports! Full o' fun & delights; Dainties of all sorts. In Nineteen Seventy Nine, Midway, in the summer heat Our outing actual, not online; All 3D, radiant and replete! WOW! * * * * * * * Aglaia Marusin
Je Ne Sais Quoi I've seen the glare Of lucent lights Along a city highway Spread everywhere Delightful nights Forever pretty, I say. Cocoons that shine And sizzle brightly Radiant reflected; And mirrored fine But only nightly, Now are resurrected! From Eighty-Six Way back, bygone My memory persists When weighty bricks By sunrise dawn Withstood our Knuckled fists! When strong the year Was sturdy built With quality control- Whose lavaliere Would never wilt, But necklaced On her soul ... When stainless steel Had long withstood Relentless fleshly Tarnish; Long time I feel What once was good, Unfading, fresh As varnish! Glazed up by lamps Reflecting back Linoleum oily, I know this stamps The forklift stack Of records royally. My memoir gleams Hot arc tubes forth In lieu of Mnemosyne: In glacial dreams Of stars up north All overhung and shiny! Hence here I pray That these return Contemporary yet- Yea, all the way To brightly burn Miroirs forever wet. I miss those days Remembered oft Throughout this Generation; All full o' glaze So seamless soft, Ne'er stout, bliss Of creation! My sandal wick Was greased aflame, Titanic tapered slender- The candlestick Waxed up the same Still melts my Heart to tender. Long after cake-wide Birthdays wane To naught and Six feet under, My limpid Lakeside Would remain For me, replete With wonder! Aglaia Marusin
The Ballad of Pure Hg Dedicatory * * * * * * * Via glory of quivering light In the countryside oily fair I lay Univaculucia so bright Agleam as it were everywhere. Ere day and night ever go by Pre-ignited is she gleefully Incorruptible, lucid on high And illustriously free fully! O recording of air may it be Hazed radiatively roundabout Saturated, spread luminously With eternity found to spout. Her hot Vat exigent I unfold In a spirit of mercury shiny; Only vaporous, ever sun-gold, Soft immaculate entity briny! My Torchlight electrified so With an insular energy flung Into ether surrounding aglow- Is mercurial hot as a tongue. Agleam gloriously everywhere I lay Univaculucia my sprite, An indomitable old luminaire Via lightning of Unity Light! _______________________________ Yielding Univaculucia bygone, Shield us so on an oily lawn Glorified from ethereal dawn: Invitational over dark night, Unconventional daily delight, My sensational holiest Light! Aglaia Marusin October 7, 2020 (at 0300 hours)
I turn back bygone years And enter Eighty Three; Was joyful, wet with tears, Yet yielded as could be. Above me it was this Old presence ever warm: An high bay lamp of bliss, So many as a swarm! From ceilings overhung Each one four hundred watts Would lash its plasma tongue At indoor parking lots. Aloft were walls o' white, Immaculate and shiny, No matter what the night- Agleam with glory briny. Far bluer than the ocean Their light had sizzled still On sand or suntan lotion, And whilst sirens shrill... Mere sixteen I was then Enamored with high bays, That lit up way back when Linoleum tarred glaze! Its eerie sheen delivered Vast varnish mercurial; Protuberant, it quivered Forth froth ethereal. When via high bay lamp Shined starlight lithely so, it made me feel at camp Gone back long time ago. Her prominence was felt From but an arc tube hot, Whose UV rays would pelt My Eighty Three time slot! In this world she'll persist With whitecaps all around Throughout a haunted mist, Six meters off the ground. The warehouse that I saw Had hoisted high bays hung: Bright-brazen, radiant, raw: Each one a cloven tongue! Its eerie sheen delivered Vast varnish mercurial; Protuberant, it quivered Forth froth ethereal.
I must live everyday as if it were my last. Life is a wonderful gift, and so I treat it as such. On September 22, 2020 someone came to me whilst I found myself in deep meditation upon the rooftop of our apartment building in New York City. In the midst of late afternoon sunlight, it was a spirit that warned me of impending inconveniences to me and to those roundabout. For certainly, to say the least, the reality thereof is glaringly apparent. And so, I intend to treat every moment as precious gold before I draw my last and final breath upon terra firma. A reminder no less of the gravity of our situation at hand; wherefore I extend my compassionate concord to everyone.