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Ultra-Sounds

by Johnny Crimson

What place is this
to write from here?

The lily pad
the peppered grin.
A pampered host
of demon skin.

Touching sores
of a moaning minx.
Dripping eyes
a lip that blinks.

Crush inside
calligraphy walls.
A painting's fold
origami's pose.

Leave the lights
to heat the steel.
This burning bed
the spinning wheel.

The bubble popped
back down to Earth.
My son was born
my wife gave birth.

12/01/2011

Posted on 12/01/2011
Copyright © 2024 Johnny Crimson

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Meghan Helmich on 12/01/11 at 08:43 PM

This is simple, but it's got your fantastical language and word play going for it. And I didn't see that last stanza coming, but after I read it, the whole poem gained new depth.

Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 12/01/11 at 08:47 PM

I thought your son was about due! Congratulations and blessings to your family.

Posted by Clara Mae Gregory on 12/01/11 at 09:08 PM

CONGTATULATIONS, JC!

Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 12/01/11 at 10:40 PM

Congratulations go without saying, and the poem just happens to be fantastic as well.

Posted by George Hoerner on 12/02/11 at 12:49 AM

I hope some day your son reads this piece. It is a very good write. My daughter will deliver in April and she is happy that it is a girl. It is her first and will share this poem with her.

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