Ulises Vargas’ Collection.

You sweet ecstasy Ulises Vargas  June 19, 2026.  Ballads stringing a song to remember you.  Trumpets and horns like the ecstasy of you.  More chorus lights the room; enchanting vocals, as the sound of you.  Cling to mind like virus.  Ring mine like Saturn.  Ring bells like hello.  The sound of you is bliss.  All of you, is all to me.  All you are, is all to me.  Respiratory winds on slow skies.  Slow songs speak for me.  Slow, slow.  Slow bells and trumpets and horns.  Slow ballads string songs longed for you.  Slow days pass with the ecstasy of bells.  The ecstasy of you.  The sweet of you. 

  Frequency.  Ulises Vargas  June 12, 2026.  When our hearts beat off one another;  when lungs breathe in one another, a pattern flows and goes  linking us to one,  and one to another.  When our beats wave,  do we come to accord? Does your heart sync with mine? Does you mouth also tell lies?  I love you, dearly.  I sync with you, daily.  When our hearts shake,  do they help one another,  or work against each other? With your beat, do you beat me? With mine, do I? Rhythms like sweet music.  Discord like hell’s risen.  Discord like we’ll never rhyme again.  Our hearts beat against, just once,  and all falls and hell breaks.  Our new rhyme is none.  My beat is mine, and yours is yours.  Our waves collapse, and they are opposite.  We brawl and scowl, over none.  We claw and howl, over none.  Either what is still is, or it is gone.  I...

  I see her in flashes everywhere I go.  Ulises Vargas  May 10, 2026.  I see her in flashes everywhere I go.  I’m taunted by the sight of someone I can’t love,  and who I want to love so badly.  Will everyone have a lover one day?  Who will their lovers be?  Why am I not their lover? Why are they not mine?  Everyone can be lovable,  but not all at once.  In a million people,  my lover is fragmented  into bits I find in scattered people,  hoping to piece together and find  the lover who’s meant to be mine.  She’s split and she’s fractured in off smiles and in half-humor; in red-herrings and faint hints.  Dust flings and dust gravitates, forming, eventually, a lover,  who is in a million— flung with millions of borrowed parts— to love as one Frankenstein.  Her fracture is whole and well.  Her nature is good and tall.  Borrowed from a million loves I’ve had,  her perfection na...

  Vasopressin/Oxytocin. Ulises Vargas  April 23, 2026.  First I gripped you not knowing  would you flip and chew my throat out  would you lose the tense and lay  would you come back cooler, if at all? Does the silence need noise to know or can my heart beat for the both of us? All this warmth: do you know it’s all yours?  Are my hands comfortable there?  Let me see those eyes. Hold our stare.  Pull closer.   Could you let me in? Could your heart beat with me?  Could you let go, please; let go of all those worries. There’s never such reason, baby.  I have you now, baby.  Breathe with me now, baby.  Press against me, baby.  Have you ever felt: felt as real as this, my heart?  How’d we ever fall for anything else. Where’d all else go, anyway?  Who cares now.  Blanked and dovey.  You’ve never slept so well.  Lazy sheep and wooly shepherds.  Whisper songs.   Respiratory win...

   Another Hug.  Ulises Vargas  April 16, 2026.  Do you leave or do you stay  when we part and unhug down from the height of your back  to the last fingertip,  so fast I don’t know  if you’re hug was hot  or if your heart was cold? Do you leave or do you stay  when I melt and act out  over nothing I made into something  and you feel dead and drained for the obligation that is my whine?  I know that look: I always see it. I know I’ve said too much.  The dark room, static of confused ashes,  demented psychoses.  I know my place  enough to cry quiet so my tears won’t disturb you  and all’s well that ends well.  But don’t let it end; Don’t pull away; Don’t leave my finger because you’re leaving me.  Another hug.  Come back.  I promise I won’t cry this time.  I swear I’m not crazy; I just really like you,  like you like me.  Hug me, and ignore my salty raindrops....

  Do they need me like I need them? Am I alone? Ulises Vargas  February 24, 2026.  I deserve all that comes my way.  My actions–mine–led me here.  Though, that’s not to say that I deserve it all.  Some of it arose from being complicated  with other people, places, and scenarios.  Maybe I shouldn’t have complicated; complicated myself with it all.  Then again: where else would I be? Would it be much better?  Would it be worse? Would it?  Who knows.  Some regrets come to mind;  though I’m glad to have accidented and to have overcome.  What I have now is the fruit of me.  And while some others stomp and trample,  good people come to water and prune  the garden of me.  I have severely complicated myself,  and this network is delicate.  The market of my life  is bought and sold;  made and destroyed.  Small moves could tank me;  could leave me weeded and hatcheted.  And...