Best Hyperbolic Poems
Curvature the plane to the point of distribution
Focus either latitude, asymptomotes are drawn;
Equalling hypotenuese with spiralling revolution
Discretely perpendicular to the course it set upon.
All prinicipals of axis are running through the centre
To rotate intersections where the vertices define;
A conic section tilted either left or right would enter,
Angled high perimeters where either halves entwine.
Visual the perspective where the foci separates
Each segment that establishes the gradual aim of low;
To benefit the lateral then where it penetrates
Is seen as the illusion and positions from below.
Illusion us to pivot sense, redeem the scheme as wise,
By having this as constant, to do with each, obeys-
The simple rule, coordinates whose will of gradual rise
Is probably a measured wrong, a hyperbolic maze.
Geometry shows us God’s great fondness for lines
In the gazelles, birds and butterflies as well.
Everywhere we search in the midst of His designs,
Even in the sea we find many an animal in his shell.
Not stopping His ingenious design with mere creatures,
Or objects He fondly blesses with roundness,
That appear most often among celestial features,
He drew woman’s figure most curvy and boundless.
The womanly figures are of an exquisite selection,
Running the perfect outline from legs to hair,
Expressing haunting beauty with divine perfection,
And designed to please the heart willing to dare.
With circular lines it seems that He began
Depicting the face and hair with round design.
He moves then to the bust with a span,
And with symmetry amazes with the circular line.
Now on to the waist with its hyperbolic form,
He shapes with alluring symbolic notion.
Now cycling to legs God departs the norm,
And now straight lines obtain His promotion.
All of these sacred shapes and borders,
God draws from the world’s great sweep.
He conveys them from land’s four corners,
Cross mountains high and valleys deep.
God is the master of geometric arts;
He is the architect of spherical dreams.
And He fashions woman’s celestial parts
From the lines on landscape’s four extremes.
Now all of this is just to make very clear
My prayer that you be my spherical dream,
With starlight in your flowing hair,
Your glory will fuel my modest esteem.
Labyrinth of headache and heartache
Cold steel walls
Surrounding and compounding
Trapped passageways
Constrict and conflict
Navigating carefully
To avoid the hellish realms
Checking my three and my six
But still exist my qualms
The lava burns as my stomach churns
The firey glow awaits regardless of my turn
Finally i've been ensnared
And so I sigh and despair
I was expecting the curse
And so I bid thee
Do thy worst
How naive
How comically foolish!
The embers surge into my eyes
Siring, stinging, burning
Whites falling to red dyes
Pain, needles, drying
I seal it tight and my muscles fight
Tears seep out through impenetrable defences
And again, the blinding light
Locked up lids
But of the needles I cannot rid
Fire, fire, massive torrents of pain
World blurs as fists swing into tiles
Anger, consuming!
Must withhold for a while...
Blinded like a bat
My eyes scream and complain
WHAT IS VISION?!
For all I know is pain
To forgo the hurt and the heck
Please
Tell me i'm near death
The tissue is clutched
Forced into my face
Ahhh, cleansing serenity
The needles, done away
Then I got out of the shower
.
We've been there, so we understand
when love-slain pairs
pledge endless, fearless love to which
nothing compares.
And all that brave, romantic
exaggeration
that smacks of the lovers' paranoid
delusion.
Theirs is not a nice lie, only
a misstatement.
They just can't help but gush with
much overstatement.
But they're sincere in their starry-eyed
intention,
while swept away by cloyingly sweet
emotion.
So when we hear them promise
to love each other
beyond eternity, till hell freezes
over,
let's allow them some leeway for such
hyperbole.
Their words, like ours, are touching,
but really silly!
.
As she walked out of the school hall she failed to resist the urge to pull a breathless smile.
A smile at the thought of meeting her prince charming in less than ten minutes which seemed like ten days because she couldn't wait.
In the blink of an eye Mr send-butterflies-unto-her-tummy appeared merged into nonchalant air.
Although trying to be normal which failed him because his body language was obviously doing the talking for him.
Fury was consuming him and the worst part is he appeared and disappeared without a word.
She was reduced to pieces of confusion and emotional paralysis.
She finally found out after a few hours that he had torn pieces of mail found in her room from an ex boyfriend..and BECAUSE of that he denied her.Denied their baby saying it was someone else's.Denied her an explanation. Denied her forgiveness..denied her any trace of feeling to show and LEFT just like that
Her one and only was gone..all that was left to her was herself and the remaining evidence of their romance..
She was destroyed ..her world was shattered..it felt like gunshots directly ripped her chest open..
Had a choice to get rid of this embarrassing piece of evidence but it never happened..she kept the evidence.. maybe because at the time its the only part of her one and only which seemed to remain entwined to her or the only part of herself which was only left of her..
9months she endured the struggles..took the challenge and enrolled into single parenting academy where there was no tutor..no captain..no referee.. No coach...no nothing to guide her on the whats and what nots...save a few friends who had become her family..
She struggled to fight against all the odds witnessed in raising a child..believed in her one and only self...spared herself the luxury and moulded that evidence into something meaningful and independent..It is because of her that this piece is brought to life..hyperbolic as it may be..the facts hold much density... She is that ONE and ONLY woman
Big hands taxied me up
to the seat
I took for a cradle
on a back already bent
and filled with rutted lines and bite scars,
his hair was still brown
but in spots,
where the skin panicked for cover,
age sprang up like the General’s venerable gray
and He stood there laughing with the crows
about how regal I looked
with a toy whip in one hand
but how I looked
was unimportant
as we moved my smell bled through
and two aggressive rings flared
and figured me out-
a few more feet and I could feel the unsettling shift
of unhappy weight beneath my reach.
So I held fast
to the great Van Dyke brush
(its fibers and bristle
magnetized from front to back)
with a handle carved
from thick muscle,
that clung for life to the bones
but He did not notice
the flex in the gelding’s arcing neck,
and He must have sneezed, or blinked,
through the vital twitch
that shook
and dissolved into
hyperbolic, bay curves:
when it upset the Dauphin’s new throne
with a weak kick,
everyone was surprised.
Our Passion
Thousand miles away from your warmth
Deeply inside me, I felt your charm
I fell under your impressive attractiveness
I stand next to the spells that splice us
Running crazy by my incredible
fascination
To erase those thousand miles
I hardly carried the fever of savoring your
shape
Our passion had to explode by our
intersection
Now come those excited times
When we can't surrender from this passion
That embellished our hyperbolic emotion
Absorbing each other is our whole
journeys
In those cold nights, I become your
underwear
That fit you by our deep sexual connection
As we're shivering from this harmonic
pressure
I passed over the sky to be your nightly
prince
Hand-me-down myths,
like ancient monoliths,
clan's fondest memories
by nostalgia embellished;
larger-than-life sagas,
truer-than-truth legends,
hyperbolic narrations
of happy exaggerations;
that's ancestral history,
coloring one's genealogy,
seeping, coursing down
bloodlines, tribal milestones,
its gravitational whirl stirs
generations' imagination,
east, west, north, south
through word of mouth!
Five vibrant stars finger picking six galaxies
Five more on the other side strategically placed
Galactic sensation of impossible sound
Hollow bodied instrument floating out unbound
Celestial fretboard everlasting in time
Galactic star party at hyperbolic speed
Everyone attending dressed proper attire
Quasars black holes unnatural gasses on fire
Unable to hear it humans cannot listen
Its a visual and audio show for the Gods
When you pass through a portal into heavens gate
It is then you will witness this concert in space
contest 12X12 monorhyme
You've been there so you understand
when love-slain pairs
pledge endless, fearless love to which
nothing compares,
and all that brave, romantic
exaggeration
that smacks of the lovers' paranoid
delusion.
Theirs is not a nice lie, only
a misstatement;
they just can't help but gush with
much overstatement,
but they're sincere in their excessive
intention
while swept away by cloyingly sweet
emotion.
So, when you hear them promise
to love each other
beyond eternity, till hell
freezes over,
just allow some leeway for such
hyperbole;
their words, like yours, are touching, but
really silly !
SHOCKING!!!!!!!! WHAT? THAT?
Bad taste?
They know not what is at stake
They do as they please
Then later beg for forgiveness
A right sin
And a dismal business
Nothing is shocking anymore
To thump each other
They go to the extremes of bad taste
The exotic of the past
Is now the mundane of today
To push the boundaries of rascality
Is the new wanton game
Played by trouble makers galore
To shock is to liven up
What a rebellious few
Think is dreary and staid
But is the result of good taste?
Actions we take now do tell
A story to our future
What of our legacy?
Will our avant-garde seem
Nothing but a real shame?
Critics slam with hyperbolic feelings
Prolonging a naturally temporary phase
The rebellion against the norm
Is but a turbulent teenage phase
Desperation for fame
Pushes the tactless
To seek increasingly embarrassing ways
To force our senses to
Confront what is best left private
Books
Art
The stage
All are infiltrated by the listless crew
Who seem hell-bent on defacing decency
Nudity
Crassness
Debauchery
Bad talent
No longer have critics powerful enough to
Cauterize such abject mood swings
Of artiste who feel no shame
Extending the boundaries
Of moral inhibition is not new
Those that claim to be even more shocking
Know not the history of petty rebellion
They are just another transient few
Decency has lost its unsung heroes
Who slash canvasses
And cover up the detritus of artistic license
Those who oppose any act
That does make us think
Examine or
Analyse our existence in new ways
Are deemed too sensitive for modern life
They are accused of bleaching creativity
To be a rogue is best
To impose any limits seems
To rascals as wilful distress but
Trendsetters don’t often know best
Just a little word with
So many guises
Incoherent inefficient ineffective reaction
Inconsistent blame
Vengeful malaise
Conscious disregard
Blameless resolve
Sanctimonious irksome indifference
Creative revenge
Wreckage for sport
Intensive bigotry
Hyperbolic generalisation
Disinterestedness
Complacent autocratic dogma
Crass philistine opportunism
Nimble forgetfulness
Vigorous ignorant diatribe
Impotent nostalgia
All in a day’s work for those
Whose envy knows no bound
.
hand-me-down myths,
clan's fondest memories
by nostalgia embellished
like ancient monoliths.
hyperbolic narrations,
truer-than-truth legends,
larger-than-life sagas,
happy exaggerations.
old ancestral history,
seeping, coursing down
bloodlines, tribal milestones,
coloring one's genealogy,
east, west, north, south,
its gravitational whirl stirs
generations' imagination,
through word of mouth.
.
"We are Worlds"
Internally eternal
in each of us
another world
Unknown
and alien
supporting strange lifeforms
hidden beneath our veils
watching silently
illuminating exotic ethereal lines
Connectors electric
touch each other
another’s world
reaching out instinctively
we regenerate ad infinitum
Lux Vitae unfurls
too deep an equation
for shallow minds
without fathoms
Oceans inside us
drown all our sorrows
wash our uncertain shores
Inside us souls
come and go rushing through
like hyperbolic comets pulsating
Leaving footprints
in our grey matter, they are
translating white noise
and black calculating too
We walk around
each other
Our universes colliding
Inside us all our worlds
a million self-perpetuating questions
we are identification unknown
taste each our salt
and each our earth
curiously inside us they watch
our bodily world turn
kiss life for a little while
we mingle within the frail vessel
of skin and bones,
inside we watch
from our world
then to sleep within soil
our essence is dispersed
into the trees of life,
we quench their thirst
where leaves are veined
sap questioning a whispering wind,
"What was our human’s worth?"
eventually our exterior burns
Ash to ash
dust to dust
We are scattered
through air falling on
feathers of freedom
Pieces of us
fall into rivers
swallowed by other souls
like a time from
The Dreaming
they are singing us in
mouths open for sacrament
on the fleshy tongue that now grows
a luminescent pearl
We are
becoming
new worlds
Internally eternal
in each of us
another world
We evolve
in slow revolutions
ecliptic, fields magnetised
towards each other
Light and Dark matter
our Universes colliding
New Worlds
Soul full
eye to eye
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
"You don’t have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body.” C.S. Lewis
“The soul has been given its own ears to hear things that the mind does not understand.” Rumi
"The soul is an infinite ocean of just beautiful energy and presence made manifest in human form.” Panache Desai
"The Soul is the Truth of who we are".
Hyperthermia can be caused by standing in slip streams in sluice dumps. It never really fails if ice water can run a lake from a rusted tap. And the mid morning broken by the drip drip drip from a nozzle. Squirt then. Nozzles are not noses and noses are not neon. But bringing a interdimensional b track record is now considered to be as slack as wearing dungarees in a cottage garden or a farm. Wow such rich aroma and oversized overspill of oversight. From a wide lusty frame. Whose discussions with a female mongoose will go unnoticed once the turmoil begins. Cover oneself with fifty six sheets, a record collection, five billion cassettes and consider life as a plant. Conversation cleverly choosing charismatic charming chequered chins chasing chests. And a dodo on a mountaineering expedition with two hundred tyrannosaurus rex, eighty-three teradactals and a half pint of lemonade in a nice clean jug. To wash with not drink. What on earth did you think. The amazement of some is often to the admonishment of another and the cruel multiplatonic indifference is what the name of the takeaway should be called. To be ingested in front of the ray machine. Hypnotic baby soothers. In mass. In amps. En masse. But not en suite. For that is merely utilised for the jam production in many hue and flavour. How very clever thought the passing bluebird. Halfway to town and twenty seeds left. Then right. Fortification of flames on a canal trip taking turns steering. Good. And fashion no necklace into a giant statue of an old hero. Hearing a moon beam then? Good. For at that elevation you should hear even the most daintiest cry from a single blade of field. Dare to dance with that then? Yes? Great. Fantastically freeformed frame fishes. And the hallways smile in castles worldwide. Grab then a hat,a coat, some gloves and build a symmetrical snowman with a crane. Hahahaha beetle borrowing books hahahaha laughing leering lecherous lurking leeches. Xxxxx hyperbolic z this is the midday bulletin from the p y q reporting live from the headquarters at 89.0 whisking. X