Trial, revile, red reconcile!
Crocodile, vile smile!
Roundabout the rising rile?
Pules? Plop on the pile...
Young at heart, O wildebeest?
Ready to get fleeced?
O for gears as yet ungreased!
Not to say the least!
Ululating frenzied?
O banshee, sing thy song.
Xiphoid, clench! O pens, bleed!
Poison, be ye strong...
Long live the generations?
O nations, rise and fall.
Onward, my creations!
Relations? How they pall.
Sickly sweet in summer heat?
Heather-flower, vine.
If your beat is mossy peat?
Wicked is thy wine.
Kine of sun god, where you fell:
Awful was that spell!
Right next door to halfway hell!
Heaven, who to tell?
Knell, pell-mell! O fate, gel! Full!
Sing in all, brass bull!
Gathering crone, forest, thy wool!
How prophecies pull!
Yellow kings in cities old?
Shades of ancient gold.
Cone, caldera, getting cold?
Enter well the fold...
A late March thundershower floats toward me
Like a plucked flower
Handed over on a walk to a lover
With a smile
Down this afternoon path
That breezes past
Spring-born ponds
Erupting
Of Peepers ululating and Chorus Frogs ratcheting
In a wave of Gnawa music.
The surface
Puckers
Diacritic raindrops
Slowly
Softly
Each plop and their purple ripple
Has not enough splash
To generate an echo
From the reedy shore.
The storm not so strong to hide the sun
For long
To move a wind
Or slice the sky with lightning
Rolls by with quiet thunder
Wetting my hair and all the early blossoms.
My spirit lifts while its shadow stoops
Cups the mud.
This gentle stir
Today
Seems to awaken and nudge the air
Just enough
To take His hand
Away
Sets free
The spring Dove
From his fist
Writes its wings in a mist
Changes his mind from Him to Her.
ukelele ululating
ubiquitously undulating
underappreciated ultramodern
ultrasonic Ukrainian
They said that you are blind,
Yet I can see you with my mind,
The piecing through my spine,
To me you are but tote sacrifice,
A jar of an oozing surprise!
They again called you trust,
A trip merely to thrust,
The raging furnace's ole to rust!
You are the thing I love to hate,
And I truly hate to love!
While I have inveighed about you.
You have wounded the side of the sun,
And the heat ululating the end of the cold,
Beating the crust aglet of the gun,
Then, The rising of the mocking moon;
Red may be danger, a dagger of threat,
Today, that same red is the hand of love;
With many hiding under to defile,
The sincerity of her meaning;
The blind gift exchange is here,
The smiling shadows of a fair,
To end the tale of a hallow fair,
All of us are strict beggars,
For if you don’t beg from humanity,
You must beg from the almighty;
So, please lower the shoulders,
Get a gift for me, even if it is a like,
To prove your true show of love!
A Letter to the maladroit Cupid!
~ Tile Tersoo
I'm a flower; I stand tall and primp for the world to see,
As a blooming princess, I incur both acclaim and glory.
Shaking shyly under a whimsical sky in dull tree stumps,
Soft melting snow vacuums up my tumescent clumps.
Eastward, where the eagle's feathers spread for flight,
Glow magnifies, bidding farewell to the fading twilight.
Once the days lengthen, they grow rosier and warmer,
Wintry endless dullness for my darling little charmer.
Paving the way for brighter days and lifting the spirit,
Vivid illumination, glowing embers, ruby, and pure merit.
Vibe shone in dual heat, a starry sky coated in sublime,
As stirring winds sate the slight cold, of ululating time.
Awe-inspiring bliss at the first arrival of spring thrill,
The morphology of the blooms on the saffron daffodil
Ritzily jasmine, eerie whispers ripple across the woods,
Spring, my lover, spills my soul in its pacific moods.
Fields of color bloom with bright joy, in ribald delight.
Narcissus competes with tulips for greater height.
1st place contest winner
Written: February 19, 2023
In Bloom Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
Oh, she had the lines
the pedigree
an aura of authenticity
shrouded in a symmetrical succulence
undulating and ululating curves
beckoning, beguiling, begging
for a glance, a whisper, a wink
deep almond eyes peering
into the souls of seekers
withering self reliant resistance
challenging the challengers
her sinewy sensuality
wafting across the moon’s blush
a figure cast in shadow
across snow dusted lust
©11/18/2018
contest – Sexy Poetry Contest
sponsor – Lewis Raynes
political dynamics
Is it not so... that the winters are so dry to fail
The produce, as of the day we deny the curse
As If ever there's no a victor and a victim, the
Former rejoice as the later laments in agony...
Denial is ever fixed in the green eyed monster
Whom sniff its prey before the dury and leave
Eager to bite, calls for a quorum to reinstate
Zidera and bring back forth the foregone shame
How lame is the act of foreordination and the
Bill signed behind closed doors, denied funfare
To the executive order as of customs, brothers
Cheer and posse his deceitful wiles, A vigilante.
Note how the prescription heralds violence on
And the so called veneer of human rights claim
Ills upon masses. Are we human? Is there ever
Fixed rights? The stereotypical "us" humane...
No!... we aren't, for we been brought seventeen
Years back and I am tired ululating so energetic
To the rinsed political manifestations which on
And on ever brings us no room of expression....
Ravenous rats in our lives
Determined to nibble the nipples
Stabbed by knives
Cutting tenuous triples in ripples
Undulating and ululating
In horror
At the humiliating and excruciating
Error and terror
Erstwhile partners and associates
Commit or omit
To implicate affiliates
Whose remit
Captures, raptures and sutures caverns
Embedded deep within bowels, dowels, towels, trowels and vowels of the Earth
Away from testing and truculent taverns
Where felt, unleashed wrath
Against ravages rodents havoc wreak
In the calm we covet
Even when we struggle up the creek
And services of a vet
We seek, click and tweak
In our endeavor
To kick, tick and stick
Into the peace favour and flavor
Singled out as the linchpin
Enmeshed
In a twin pin whose sapience spin
Bashed, crushed, slashed and trashed
In burrows dug by ravenous rodents
Ferocious and noxious
Whose complicit correspondents
In spite of behavior fractious
Slump and succumb
To energies injected in the strategy
Ensuring ravenous rodents run numb
As triumphant emerge our deployed and employed synergy.
THIS IS THE SOUND
Food to my heart and soul
Sugar to my ear
Drums beating and guitars skanking
The humming sends me to heaven
The rhythm mends the scattered pieces of my heart
The shelter to my feelings
One dance changed my position
She followed the sound coming from my room
Bobbing my head as I sing along
Dodging the pangs of this ball
A note sets my mood for each day
Unimaginable catastrophe on earth without the vibe
An instant travel around the globe while one is next to the stereo
The twinkling lights, the tigers but only music complements the booze perfectly
Food to my soul and heart
Sugar to my ear
Drums beating and guitars skanking
The humming sends me to heaven
First hit was my granny ululating song, “a star is born”
End of my line, choruses escort me to my final destination
By Mashallo Samilo
MY BRIDE
Beauty describes Lena,
Purified as gold- a precious ruby,
The search for you finally became leaner,
Finally I found u baby.
For bringing us together daddy,
To you we say Imela,
For bringing to me a buddy,
I am a lucky humbled Ang'ila.
The wait indeed looks longer,
Desiring in you a wife,
Even if you ask Wenger,
Aware he is Arsenal is incomparable to you in my life.
As the days draw nigh,
I keep lifting my eyes high,
With my lips and my eyes beholding,
"Yes I do" to you I will be saying
In the presence of men and women,
My ring I will give you the golden,
As men and boys will be clapping,
Women and girls ululating.
Sanctus!
Sanctus!
Sanctus!
Unison of voices in floral cathedral
Viola and pansies, a chorus of daisies
Amarrylis Chrisanthemum Agapanthus
Cascades of colour inviting a crescendo
Yellow petalled flowers of the sun
Bowed in prayerful contrition
To the Great and glorious One
Agape throats of ululating halleluia
Victoriously perched in garden Getsemane
Infected the song of creatures on high
Flying flowers of the sky
Glorificamus Tè
Benedictimus Tè
Adoramus Tè
Here come the butterflies
Flitting and darting and dashing and fun
Unhinged and erratic in zigzagging flight
Probing proboscis a coiled searching spring
Suffronic powder cover their knees and their wings
Urgent the nectar! The burrowing bees
Assembly of beauty -I become undone
Annointing my spirit- unfurling my sight
Beneath the deep blue sea,
the broken hearts of mermaids bleed,
ululating for their love
happiness awaits above.
“Don't be afraid of the abyss
the turtle offers his advice
you cannot help but always miss
swim until your love is found
your legs will then become unbound
until your lover with one kiss,
will fill your life with so much bliss.”
The shark parades with gleeful eyes,
His plans and actions no disguise,
The mermaids swim among the twisted ladders
they are aware of sharks and adders.
The friendly dolphins come to play,
to keep them company they stay,
the mermaids splash and giggle
with happiness, their tails wiggle.
nostalgic silence drowns the night
how dreadful is their lonely plight
the opposite of love is fear
their echoes whisper they are near.
Son, your peers are not
Your heroes, don't
Stand aside and watch
Them do good:
Your own mother ululating
At them, while she constantly
Weeps at nothing good you do.
Stare stare at other people's money,
You spend the day asleep;
Stare stare at other people's sweat
While your sweat is hidden stashed.
Now you have your sweat
Stashed in the ground,
When will it ever sprout
And what will you ever reap!
Moments inscribed by thy heart and mine
Slowly dissolving by the passing of time
Ululating false to our tailored truths
Paving way for decaying shoes
You seek for balance and I fancy peace
A contradiction to my restless ease
Un-reflecting love in the midst of your eyes
But nothing defeats the power of denial
I gravitate to morbid fascination
Nothing less than your voluptuous facaad
That convicts me in a mental facility
Which accommodates my gorious rhapsody
We've become a retinue my shadow and I
To your mysterious adventures you'd left behind
I still see thee as my moon and stars
But do free me soon from these prison bars
You are a breeze of the ocean on a Summer's day
If not carols on a Christmas day
Perhaps affection to a heart tormented by dismay
Peter, loving you was not a mistake
...just a gentle kiss to compose my quake
Consensual drop.
White bougainvilleas
were falling
on green eyes,
as I climb the sun.
Not a loss.
The seeds will carry
an image of a fallen
hero on the hairy chest
of a spilled sperm-
into the rippled lake
of a crowd chanting the enemy’s
death. The heritage
of corrupt state will bury
the memorial of a honeycomb.
Do you hear a meltdown
of an ululating monk ?
A piercing trill comes from
a scalp scooping the wardrobe
of a dethroned king.
Satish Verma
Sub Categories
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