Facula, flash fulgorous.
Chime, chorus, sharply in.
Pumice stone, rough and porous?
Blood below the skin.
Mantle of the harpsichord?
Wraps around the core.
Reptile complex, tooth or sword?
Either way it's gore.
Moreover, hellfire. Killing fields.
Floor slaughterhouse, tiled.
Yield or come home on thy shields.
As before, poor. Riled.
Hurricane, thy beginning.
What will seed thee, storm?
Ululate, underpinning.
Lava, keep them warm.
Rush. Volcanic power, crush.
Dragon, heard that thrush?
Crocodile, wildebeest. Such.
Cloud, the rainbow's touch.
Fire in my heart, burn ice cold.
Ashes, fall around.
Trillium flower, poison sold.
Salve healing, thy bound.
Gadarene, black gabion.
Galant, galago.
Gallimaufry? Gallion.
Goetic the grow.
Fulmineous, fumarole?
Not exactly matched.
Ground to powder, golden bowl?
Toll the tallest thatched...
Replication, O photon.
Atmosphere. Molecules.
Phase, like seasons. Here, then gone.
Tools, tremors, toadstools.
Occipital ridge, troll, bridge.
Billy goat, thy horn.
Pestilence, thy name is midge.
Freighter, fain, forlorn.
Lightning bolt, fruit of the gods.
Eat one and become.
Mycelial, goldenrod?
Mushroom, just stay mum.
Sign of salvation, sea-bass?
Shark, set eyes on same.
Liquid legend, O my lass?
Sure. I'm glad you came.
Tympani, crush. Firefly, flee.
Knock thrice, then flit, thrush.
O behemoth, swim thy sea?
Death, you've had a brush.
Enormous or gigantic?
Titan, which to choose?
Oil on surface, stiff or slick?
Flickering fate, fast fuse.
Race, a trace of turkey wild.
In the corn, my child.
Charnel house floor, stains a-tiled?
Ululate, red riled.
Racket, informed packet?
Data, grow in trees.
Weather, wail. Jail, jacket.
Pain, poisonous to please.
Terrified innocents, departing indigenous lands
afraid to end with a sad ullagone…
merchandised as cargo.
Once money changes hands…all hope is gone.
They are herded into dinghies on an empty shore
united through a desire, a longing,
dreaming of peace, education and love.
On board each one clings anxiously to ice cold hands
elderly faces stare blankly. Children ululate
Silently one by one they fall overboard
bodies thrash as the cold invades their bones
until silence is the only sound in darkness
Once proud inhabitants, bound in dreams of
a better life away from impoverishment
To end life as ghostly apparitions…
It falls with grace.
Metallic bawls hail the strength of zinc roofs.
At the mercy of the thatch,
Drops drip from needle points of skeletal
Palm fronds.
Particles of rain descend on thresholds
Among dewed terrains.
The petrichor befriends the atmosphere,
Caressing limpid warmth with floating cold.
Lightning, a white dancing Anaconda, races with speed,
Filling the tenebrous plains with lights of hope.
Troubled skies ululate through the power of thunder.
I always recline on that liquid voice!
Rainmakers cream their palms
And roast fresh leaves of
Epochal petals
Plucked from somnolent trees.
Bubbles, green and full of life, puke,
Filling up the mouths of burning woods.
Grey darkness suggests the pleasant wars of
May through October,
When distant wayward drops
Trickle before the deafening deluge.
I hail the blandishments of July
For the society of fattened yams and the
Worthy tendrils —festooned confetti of ceremonial
Harvests.
Droughts yawn in vain when the attitude of
Wet seasons befriends the skies,
Yielding fecund grimes that grace the soil.
Antiquated pipeline geysers ravage starry nebulae, blast ash. The hurricane bankrupts reed origami masts. It splits overripe pomegranates. Wild animal guitar buzzes, echoing through shattered valleys.
Electrified abdomen dowels bobble and quiver. Balloons, gemstones, hot coals ululate. Feral cello cherries frost and educate potholes. They mold cracked roads into jagged mosaics of fire and ice.
Fractured aqueduct sprays liquid yogurt galaxies across the void. The tempest collapses bamboo paper cranes. It bursts ripe garnet figs. Savage harp lion roars. Untamed lyre berries chant anthems.
Mourn person’s loss or death;
Person was lost in life, fleeting breath, taken left;
Now found in death sorrow, wail, and moan;
~
And groan sore, weep, cry, sob torn;
Beat one’s breast,
Ululate
7/15/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
Be the light. We are the light.
We are the light
By Michelle Morris
17/11/2020
In their eyes you may be incomplete
as they seek out the shiny baubles and squeak of shallow vessels and find them not wanting,
despite human nature being peacock taunting.
By their lips they may ululate,
the wars and strife who souls duly break,
but of you they may scorn
for you break the mould by quiet storms.
In their eyes you may be incomplete
for human beings have clay for feet;
we hurt and claw and crash and burn,
slaughter and fight against, and turn.
By their lips they may not celebrate your existence born by fate and choice;
for those who have the highest climb
must do so alone with no solace or voice.
We are the ones: The leaders and saviours of the undeserving masses who would not give us the light of day; but we are the Light and He sees all, and those humans remain very small in comparison to the universe's thrall -
Our crown of thorns transmuted
victoriously to glorious gold;
Our enemies defeated for good
as we claim saved souls.
© Michelle Morris, 2020
Let me tell you what women do,
After a child’s delivery is through.
The birds, too, know: they jubilate
While animated ones ululate!
Adoration of baby simply true,
Eyes feasting on the frail thing Glad Glue
Foreplay’s sex women simulate
Hoping to future births stimulate…
A-once-childless his bad luck slew:
The same as saying ‘Reproach flew!
‘Unmarried’ to Married’ imitate,
Long celibacy to hearts palpitate…
Wriggling of waists no wasted strength,
Face powdering taken to a length;
“Who in the end shall look like baby?”
Talcum, help me to seem a baby!”
The powder is not free; you drop cash;
To declare one has no cash rash!
I was asked to write about u
With which l became confused
My understanding of what was required
Left me feeling somewhat bemused
A little unclear
And somewhat in doubt
Whether it is the alphabet or “U” words
Or Me (U) I write about
Well, “U” in the alphabet is letter twenty one
In between T and V at the very end
A tight gang called “The Vowels”
Are “U’s” best friends
Ululate ,unasinous ,ucalegon
“U” words just to state a few
What the dickens they mean
I actually haven’t a clue
Lastly, me in this “U” poem
Well , I am not that interesting it’s true
To be quite honest
I’d rather talk about “U”
AN OLD SUN HAS SET
THE LIGHT HAS WENT OFF
A NEW DAWN IS YET TO COME
THE GIANT HAS FALLEN
THE BIG STAR HAS FALLEN
I HAVE FALLEN,I HAVE FALLEN TODAY TO RISE AGAIN TOMORROW
I VOW TO COME BACK AGAIN
I WILL RISE AGAIN TO MY FORMER GLORY AND SHINE
I WILL SHINE AGAIN LIKE THE BRIGHTEST STAR
I WILL IGNITE THE FIRE IN ME ONCE MORE
I WILL COME BACK WITH A VENGEANCE
I SHALL COME BACK IN A SPEED OF LIGHT,LIKE A RUNAWAY TRAIN WITH NO BRAKES
I WILL RETURN TO CLAIM MY PLACE,MY POSITION IN THE CORPORATE WORLD
THE LIGHT WILL SHINE UPON ME
I WILL BE SHOWERED WITH SO MUCH PRIDE
SONGS OF HAPPINESS AND JUBILATION WILL BE SUNG
ANCESTRAL ENTOURAGE WILL ULULATE BEYOND THE GROUND
CELEBRATING THEIR DAUGHTERS SUCCESS AND BRIGHT FUTURE
Machine guns tattoo the air with fire;
reports ululate
down the runway
too late
for the people who cling to the plane —
the pavement stings;
Allah sings from the curls of Persia’s towers.
Kabul, Kabul, Kabul,
where the Taliban will rule,
where occidents left the lambs to wolves,
and Quran will be taught as cruel,
mercy burned like offal.
Women will hide in hijab,
a narrow escape into the niqab,
the Likeness of God veiled and macabre
for no one can see Her face except shadows, husbands, or shame.
Sept 5, 2021
Afghanistan poetry contest
Sponsor: the Kai Michael Nuemann
I count it that I’ve once again won
For being fifty one:
On this day, the 15th June
High my stereo with tweeters tune;
In noise–prosecuting quarters to Victory ululate,
In advance vowing to not later vacillate,
For only a just-caught-and-now-brooding criminal
Or the fast-wasted by a disease terminal
Would to the Euphoric say “Nay”
On man’s caution-depriving Birthday…
Really, the day to puff up one’s chest for boasts
With paid filled glasses for appropriate toasts,
Save for the life-jailed already gathering dust
And facing a tomorrow of inescapable rust
Or the piteously dying with his graveyard space
Reachable with not so much as a long pace…
Happy Birthday to the Gemini
Here in Nigeria but very sure He is in “Germany”
Already ambitiously eyeing Fifty-two years,
The prayers that should take him to it selecting all their gears!
All Things Galore
by Michael R. Burch
(for my grandfathers George Edwin Hurt Sr. and Paul Ray Burch, Sr.)
Grandfather,
now in your gray presence
you are
somehow more near
and remind me that,
once, upon a star,
you taught me
wish
that ululate soft phrase,
that hopeful phrase!
and everywhere above, each hopeful star
gleamed down
and seemed to speak of times before
when you clasped my small glad hand
in your wise paw
and taught me heaven, omen, meteor ...
Keywords/Tags: family, grandfather, grandparents, grandchild, grandson, teacher, mentor, example, guide, guidance, guru, sage, wise man, instructor, model, archetype
I'm not in step with the Serious Bards
For me, it's the sillier words that chime
I see quadrangles instead of a yard
Jaunty hootenannies I find sublime
I don't howl or cry out, I ululate
Clip-clop and flip-flop, both such disarmers!
Gummy tutti frutti, please be my date
Phenomenology - what a charmer!
Silly names rule - Truth or Consequences
Walla Walla is a beautiful place
Humpty Dumpty brought down the defenses
Winnie the Pooh is a bear to embrace
Sonnets, free verse, rhymes, limericks, haiku, tomes
Silly words deserve their place in our poems.
How sweet it is in life,
That kiss of a ghost!
Making body to drop lifeless
And the soul flies away
When kissed by a ghost
That ghost from a pipe
But when people see they weep
What a foolery it is!
When you fly away singing,
As ghost parents ululate in joy
Having been kissed by their ghost!
What a vanity it is!
Why must people weep and weep?
Vanity!
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