Best Ultra Poems
I need your ultra desperation
your ultra conflagration of love making exhilaration,
I want your ultra shout and pout
give me your slap attack
the amber of your abuse, the saffron of your emotions,
I crave the playful plenitude of your ultra uppidy attitude,
you let me experience hyperventilation at your disappearance
then inflation of euphoria in my Heart's utopia by your reappearance,
I want to know your ultra sadness
that song you share with the twilight of despair,
your ultra madness, your vortex of female complex,
I desire your hot and haunted psychology
your genius of ultra ingenuity, the pulp of your passion,
sometimes you love me most when you hurt me
a pathology of love cut sympathy that I can handle best,
earning the ultra soft surface of your pillowed chest
where I can rest the weight of iron soul, and slumber at your behest,
I want the whip of your hips and the sip of your lips,
I want the pleasure plethora of your ultra vulva
to access the pagoda of your sexual yoga
to concoct in you the froth of organic soda,
I want your Gospels and Revelations
the Path and the Wrath, your cross of ultra conquest
the morning of your ultimate ascendance
the midnight of your ravishing bite
the bounty of your breast and the burn of your brimstone
give me the lyric of your ultra breath,
your ultra love keeps me alive!
J.A.B.
Ultra Sound Tickles (By Moji Agha)
Ultrasound tickles tickle soundly;
Or do they?
Do they have a choice in the matter?
Or they tickle the trunk of pain reflexively,
to cause reflective pained chuckles
at our deep folly?
Do ultrasound tickles
tickle soundly by nature?
Or do they learn,
by nurture,
to cause ultra tickles?
Or alas,
do nature and nurture
are tickle-dancing together,
as they always have?
Now,
talking about my tickled trunk:
Does a lonely tree
fallen in the forest
of human ignorance
make a sound (perhaps an ultra sound),
when tickled by the seeing sounds of climate change?
Can the ultra sounds
of the worried hearts,
of those who have "washed their eyes"
see one another?
Can they see, hear, touch, smell, and taste
the fallen tree's sound of ultra pain?
Of ultra warning?
There is omniscient God
And there is Ultra Sound Lady
And then there is Me
With 24 hours left ahead to wonder.
Two of the three knows my fate.
Cool blue goo swiped across my body
And the nice lady
Pats my bare thigh so intimately so compassionately
With such a sense of genuine comfort
That I wonder if she does that
All day long
With all her pan of patients
Rolled like dough beneath her hands on a dinner table
Or if perhaps we had made a connection
Or if it was just ultra sound code for good luck
Or hang in there
Or was it the first of many explanations beginning with,
“I’m sorry I have to tell you…”
But anyway she said to go ahead and let my breath go
And that it was over for the day.
As if I were her husband
Dressing in front of her
In our morning bedroom
I fastened my buttons and tucked my shirt
Zipped my pants and re-tied my tie
Chatting small talk about anything and everything
But for what was truly in front of us both
Along with fate
For the rest of the day.
Two know the truth
While the other dares not ask.
Avanti si dice che e' cosi' bella
Farsi capire, altre espresioni temporali
Si gli alberi cha parlano
Mi dicono del suo dolore
UN' ombra si insinua che
Detiene ancora I cercano
Luce e cume si trova vita ci parla ancora una volta
La foglie fanno apparire La
Immagini della sua faccia
A tease me con la sua brazza de odio
Tale è la media ma bella donna
Tutti messo mai le politiche guarda questo vedi. Verso e Jack
Ghetto secondo me un campione come punteruoli stick nulla nel ghetto Bella meglio credo da truci gangster prevalere In sobborghi americani
Folded in cloth, her eyes did shine
Parabola shifted by pi, ‘the daughter is mine’
Said in front of others,
How did you feel inside?
Okay let’s make a confession
It was on mother’s guide.
The girl grew up,
As broadens a brook.
Papa followed Mama,
She had a beautiful look.
Mama hugged the life
Papa was reluctant
But the daughter believed in him
Someday, he too would be resilient.
Then occurred an accident,
Mother had to go.
Daughter was left with father
And he got a blow.
Papa, papa, she said
In everything that followed.
Little did she know,
She would never be endowed.
Then 10 years later,
At 4 o’ clock in evening,
Daughter didn’t come home
The thought itself was aching.
For maybe he didn’t want her
He was a dad within
Was it already too late?
Got a rush of adrenaline.
Went to the police,
Took help of a neighbor
Nothing came in hand,
Except the morning newspaper.
"10 year old, raped and murdered"
Stood the headline distinct.
The face was translucent,
But the apparel succinct.
Dressed in mourning stands,
He who didn’t care.
Daughters are not a burden
They are gifts ultra rare.
Respect them, accept them,
Without them, the world is despair.
Theomania's easy to see
in one holding the presidency.
When megalomanic,
his tweeting gets frantic.
All his money could buy therapy!
At least now there's hope if you vent
whenever you have discontent.
Should you think you are God,
though you're only a sod,
you could one day become president.
Oct. 22, 2017 for The Mania Contest of Lewis Raynes
Gondolas thrift contently upon a gentian violet
Thrown from dusky sunsets on a marauding wake
Adopting Venetians transpose as the partake;
Sip mulberry wine to toast the ultraviolet.
Cerulean skies, inundations, surge the amaranth
Spray lavender with a mauve bouquet of backcloth;
Bear a pigmentation that the heliotropes strove forth
Luminary, heather halos mimic gamma strength.
Plum age old interceptors, those cardinals and priests
Rage velveteen and indigo, planning sermons apiece,
Text books coloured aubergine bless a firmament lease
Like exorcists displaying ways to snub behemoth beasts.
The Grand Canal is unified as the amethysts surrounding:
Producing arch goliaths, as the buildings passing by
Shape a deep mauve battlement, twilight’s gradual high
The sheer delight of Indigo, the honeymooners grounding.
Let fingers whisper passion in clashes,
Stroke fire and heat to enrage the flashes,
Each seductive contact with the caches,
As I torture your skin with tongue lashes.
Hyperactive silhouette's of contenders,
Loving probes matching their surrenders,
Wiggling members entertained by plunders,
Feverish minds management blunders?
Secret desires in rhymed wet modes,
Covets thirsty pleasure dripping lodes:
There are some secret people in fancy clothes
Being all lost outside this odd child like scene
With their lovely apparel, out of place those
As their deep fathoms they never seemed too keen
They have developed the elite, a true rush
Higher than the wealthy, painted with a brush
Trying to make the normal be their servants
Highly presumptuous, an awful movement
Russell Sivey
Feign neither to these visioned damsel life!
Do ultra-pain ever vanish with time?
Pre-infant, a thorny storm stunned out like a nipple
Some say normally, it only tickles
Stony bloke says, it's a nitty-gritty while my blood ripples
What he wish to see ;for her to move fast out of cripple
Several done seasons, her pistil rose grown
Gone is when slip, now it's two boost slope
Visual shape of womanhood enclose
Even yet, they say, if guys whistle blow, put on a frown
Deceit voice she heard, alot of love compose
Yea! At every seconds, what are we to say of those?
A stage to fish for one to lovelock in cage
Distractions of many but one was name
Having pleasures of sweet-bitter plan as it was read
Pain dropped to her ball, till the thrice three months
When that kid wail out the pride of her mum
Be it continuum! Echoed the immortal Norm.
Today a white dove flew across a dimming sun.
As it gently descends below the horizon
I gazed down below from my Apartment.
And I see people up and about their businesses.
Only a few months earlier,
The space below my apartment was empty, no voices, no cheers.
An ultra-thin piece of non-living matter
Shut the world down, without weapons-
No guns, no bombs not even arrows
Yet the world stood still.
A reality that was neither phony nor funny!
And suddenly, gone were the days when we could sit across each other at work.
Or share a cold beer at the pub, or travel at will.
Our lives became regimented, we sit in front of computers all day.
And connect across continents at the click of a button.
We suddenly learnt to adapt to a new world order-
Virtual, eerie yet calm but somewhat discomforting
Masterminded and dictated to us by an ultra-thin piece of non-living matter!
It is now over 365 days since the virus tried to shut us down.
Many lives have been loss, families mourning.
National economies have suffered with damming consequences for the citizenry.
Yet the world remained resilient, like the great rock of Gibraltar.
We may have buckled but we stood tall, united and strong.
From the United Kingdom to Nigeria
Across the Americas, down to the Zulu Kingdom of Southern Africa
We stayed strong and stable.
And fought for our freedom!
And I can see that freedom is close.
Even though the ultra-thin piece of non-living matter continues to-
Raise its ugly head across different regions on our planet.
But resilient we are, and we will continue to be!
So, today, as I gazed down below from my Apartment.
And I saw people up and about their businesses.
I knew for sure- we would all smile together again.
From a place of love, peace, contentment and most of all victory
Against an invisible enemy that threatened our entire existence
Hopefully, we would have learned the lessons and be battle ready for future invasions!!!
A humanity Slain by a black ghost flame
Because their God was an unspeakable name
A Mournful, Insane, multitude with emnity and self induced labor pains
An Eon that has never awoken - A Copt of Souls- skin of the seas soaken-
in the foamy afterbirth of aftermaths toil, in spoil
by the Unspoken strains
Alone without a soul, or meaningful, rich soils of cultivation, to be grafted in,
birthing anew, and not staying long enough to become unattended, mud from the rain and eroded by sins,
splitting image is a sea splashing your brain
i see all that you do, your stratas of civilizations
Unveiling me of the Mystery of the Unseen, in indignant stagnation
but mildew of what once was a nation
fingertips form fitting on the sill of the stranded looking after loves
dead bug
Dust dried, shriveled and Unspoken for encapsulated in your dung
The Unfitting glove, trying us on for size, tongue in cheek,
begrudging the nudge off the cliff closer
Eons are all too slow for you to fully comprehend its reign
As you grow further in age,
The light of the star
Beside you, fades, phase shifts as darkmatter
and becomes blacker still like soot on the page
Turn you cron-icon along its path
As the dark of the age "Comicon of the lost"
Engaging, you, along its malevolence you are its Priestess, caught
giving burnt offerings of garbage you made special issuance not
all your glimpses, a mirrors tear, somewhere in Time's, Lots
snapped on the dancing diadem dragons lair plot, Dune sand trap, left
"sleeping "in the rough" at the Gates Of Aurizen, a Phoenix Unrisen,
to the Denizens, of the left
Layers of nothingness-spinning placebo, cursing the dark side of our moons
And only silence in raft upon the voided rift
The Unspoken, unspoken,Apathy, ingratitude TheM Ulktra Violence
Them, Humans once lived
Dark grey matter
manifest crimson flow tendacies
Fade to black thoughts
formaldehyde revealed thru scope sight
Scarlet droplets trace a fetal prone outline;
such a morbid delivery ...
a yellow tape, premature plight
Coffin borne mutilated bodies
with bullet death birthmarks:
Revolver uttered first cries of last rites
A morgue spectrum of short wave anger —
Trigger hatred
blinded by ultra violent light
Living in crypt darkness,
metal barrel skin worms catacomb move
with cadaver quickness
towards the UV light
Leaving iron-copper tracks of desecration,
as a spectral flatline
guides their hooked pellet mind
Cherry bomb pulmonary flashes
of ultra violent light
show the infra red, spherical graveyard
shining deathly bright
Sadly visible
from the firmament height
The thrust of salvation's revelation;
Straight from the buckle of the Bible Belt -
Crusading on a plan of what they felt:
"The World for Christ in One Generation."
Their causes - all so specious and remote:
Ban dance and drink and feminist pursuits;
Then, Prohibition passed by their recruits
Of Congressmen who pandered future votes.
And now, a hundred years from past mistakes,
The politicians are once more enthralled
To recast government - advising all
To think and act and vote one way - their take.
Erosion of the aims our Founders sought -
To separate State from religious ties
Because they feared what then could be devised:
Alliances that Kings and Crosses wrought.
Yet, persons seeking faith identities
For personal spirituality
Can lose their way through a conformity
To doctrinaire religious entities.
Religious rightists craft a host of things:
Electing "friends" to legislative seats;
Appointing judges who share their entreats;
Controlling rights and thoughts and what that brings.
And, banning books the obtuse criticize -
The followers of simplemindedness -
Sheer ignorance at best - no more, no less,
Who wander through their world of contrived lies.
Yet, some espouse a "Theocratic State"
To make us like Iran's dictatorship
That keeps all paople under yoke and whip;
A western styled and brokered caliphate.
This prospect so absurd and ill-advised -
The essence of a Theocratic State -
Undemocratic doctrines we should hate
By muddled thinking "mullahs" in disguise?
We ought to learn what history decries:
A harsh reality that forms a trap
When politics, religion overlap.
Stop tempting Fate with blinders on our eyes.
The days of wine and roses have left St. John’s nature trail
Now we are opening manga books with a sidekick tail.
I lie among the berries, counting petals on a pretty flower.
Book throws me into make-believe, an ultra-reading power.