Best Changelings Poems

Across from this municipality by the bay

I silently stand here

Looking deeply upon the open waters

Currents that make there way

Beyond the moon reflecting tide

The colourful lights....

Stillness drowns, the sounds all around

What a pretty montage, the skyline seems

Before my searching eyes, these images....

Turning inward, toward the depths...

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Angel?
Demon?
Faerie?
Witch?
Random labels
None apply.
We are all changelings
Pure and simple
Or complicated and unpure
Depending upon the mood, the moment, and our momentous events.
Divorce, death, cancer, car wrecks, they all take a toll on us.
Changing us completely in one second.
Giving us a perspective we never had before.
Showing us that...

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Across from this municipality by the bay

I silently stand here

Looking deeply upon the open waters

Currents that make there way

Beyond the moon reflecting tide

The colourful lights....

Stillness drowns, the sounds all around

What a pretty montage, the skyline seems

Before my searching eyes, these images....

Turning inward, toward the depths...

Continue reading...

         Underworld, of changelings, 
where shadows loom,
There lies a world, vitrified, consumed,
Its surface hardened, a relic of alchelimes,
a testament to sorrow, frozen in language 
warning signs.

Once a haven of life, brimming with dreams,
now encased in glass, a...

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Each year
I met September
with its calico seals of Samhain
slain in a fair death 
and bled by symptoms of naked hours
and loneliness.

I shivered with
a strange dread, 
not of predator or prey
but the threat 
of being siphoned too deeply,
into a predictable, mass identity.

I found myself swathed 
in...

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Across from this municipality by the bay
I silently stand here
Looking deeply upon the open waters
Currents that make there way
Beyond the moon reflecting tide
The colourful lights....
Stillness drowns, the sounds all around
What a pretty montage, the skyline seems
Before my searching eyes, these images....
Turning inward, toward the depths...

Continue reading...

A mom tucked in her child one night
In bliss he fell asleep
Her horror grew at day’s first light
She could not help but weep

A changeling lay in her son’s place
With wings, large hooves and tail
She scorned the babe who sought embrace
“Lord, curse the troll,” she wailed

For...

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From Birth to Hearse


‘Tis said that we are sinners - all
before we ever rise - we fall.
Is there no way to beat the curse
that follows us - from birth - to hearse?

For we are bathed in living’s dreams
darkened halls with  violet themes,
the orange maw...

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Across from this municipality by the bay
I silently stand here
Looking deeply upon the open waters
Currents that make there way
Beyond the moon reflecting tide
The colourful lights....
Stillness drowns, the sounds all around
What a pretty montage, the skyline seems
Before my searching eyes, these images....
Turning inward, toward the depths...

Continue reading...

opaque simplicities
genesis forever lagoons
time honored changelings...

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A madness of marigolds
cascading light
the garden gate,
a painting to protect
one from the savages of truth
an obsession
with brush strokes
irises laden
with weeping desire
changelings in poppies
granite jawed
from a hunger moaning 
with the all forgiving night
come into the gloom
spare not thy pen
nor still
the rustle of skirts
along the garden path
a...

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I met November;
with its calico seals of Samhain
slain in a fair death
and bled by symptoms of naked hours
and loneliness.

I shivered with
the Strange dread,
not of predator
or prey
but the threat
of being siphoned too deeply,
into phone -cord spirals;
into the greedy sponge of Midnight veils
that wave amidst alabaster winds.

I...

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"In all things of nature there is something of the marvelous."  Aristole

Clouds,
Drifting
Gossamer,
Amorphously
Cumulonimbus
Botryoidal changelings
Bulbous body-building boils
Robustly rising with swelled heads
Bragging with bursts of thunderous joy
Eager to display lightning anvil crowns...

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eh1m3vCCGdA

Black Princess of the night chin strapped to her violin 
she plays the notes from her memorable heart of blue 
while the moon in her sorrow spills light upon the Quin,  
she plays on, a Stradivarius interlude of thin soulful Adieu; 
Arrivederci  (goodbye)
Donna...

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Sit here and listen now.
She tells her story well.
You will too wonder how.
That these new changelings tell.
She has her maiden form.
She does have twenty more.
As quick as summer storm.
She will change body’s core.
This is my story true.
I am a changeling now.
My soul has become blue.
I...

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