Best Metamorphoses Poems
I am located in a park, where I am contemplating adjacent trees.
One tree in particular has caught my attention.
With each thought I feel ever more at one with this tree.
How can I contemplate trees without becoming one?
Just think what happened to Narcissus, who turned into a daffodil.
Or the nymph Daphne, who became a laurel tree.
What's so bad about being a tree anyway?
Is not it a good thing to put down roots?
But what about the loss of mobility that would follow?
Trees have carefree lives, though.
No taxes, rushing to work, paying bills.
On the other hand in my present state
I need not worry about woodworm, acid rain, being pruned,
woodpeckers or serving the needs of leg-lifting dogs.
And family affairs? Hmm.. Do I want my kids to be nuts?
It's all very well to branch out - in metaphoric terms, that is.
Oh, that board meeting! It’s time to go.
Hey, my limbs are stiff.
I can’t move my trunk. My fingers are green.
Silly thought, no one turns into a tree these days!
Aaaaahhhhh!
Swish, swish. Rustle rustle..
...inspired by 'Piktor's Metamorphoses' by Hermann Hesse
Stepping through a vale she spied an oak,
its branches scratching heaven's glow
and anchored to the earth its twisted roots
clawed deeply through the soil below.
Embracing now its weathered bark she found
her scrawny body stretched from stern to stem,
her very blood the sap which seethed within
and energized the giant denizen.
She was at once the tomboy and the tree,
photosynthesis and flesh and bone
to reach the spheres, the bowels of earth
both bodies joined, the fusion done.
She was one with insect and with bird,
the wind and rain conjoined and made her wife
to all of nature, sea and sky,
to hail the consanguinity of life.
Immeasurable maturation profoundly
transformed thy Shana Punim
within whose corporeal femininity
gravitas resonates and doth hum
whose unbelievable transition, now
follows the beat of her own drum
approximately four years ago,
thee second and youngest born
daughter didst squawk and crow
aforementioned fledging eagerly,
instinctively, and naturally clamoring ergo
summoning unbendable biological
propensity to grow
which, she recognized
to this papa, a regular Joe
who realized, he did not know,
the painful necessity Brexiting
"FAKE" moors whar
family cows did low
aforementioned hyperbolic fabrication,
albeit this poe
whit did cavalierly usurp license to show,
(within the third eye blind mind's)
pace of autonomy a father cannot slow
as call of the wild for kinder
(progeny) chomps at figurative bit lest...
regret (like this papa), she will
like an albatross around her neck,
thus our twittering youngest
offspring experienced beck,
and call (declaration) of independence
from being shielded
(more so sunken) within dreck,
an abysmal living situation
(with me and the missus),
whose own respective impetus
to get away from hen peck
king parents, which crimped,
cost, and castrated, or effect
similar stunted growth on mine
body, mind and spirit thereof
until ultimatums got hurled at me
extremely unpleasant twee
mend us vitriolic bile lashed out hee
ping loathsome spittle at this free
damned sole Harris son, who overstayed,
and wore out welcome Matt, now re
vile ling forsaken opportunities
forever leaving my mental, psychological
social, et cetera state to atrophy!
Can't explain the feelings, my soul torn
twisted out of my chest, whole body was glowing
Metamorphosed into a beast, more like a gorilla
sharp teeth, two fangs, call me a killer
mind out of control, lost in a world of it's on
Damn...
Gone till november where the weather is cool
body burning, keep fevers, stay with a tool
Mask over my features, all you see is the tooth
Assassin, gloves black, same color my boots
strapped, army fatiques like apart of the troops
ready for war, say goodbye to my boy
Not promised tomorrow, only past present and dreams
Hold on, pain taking over...I gotta scream!
From the outside in, I feel the burning in my heart.
A curse from sin, for over the years, has torn me apart!
The metamorphoses is quick, changed in the blink of an eye.
Some would call me a lunatic, and here I stand a Samurai!
My blood dripping blade is actually a mere black pen.
I felt the explosion from a grenade, and still decapitated many men!
I can vanish at will, and even appear in your dreams.
My penmanship is ready to kill, and I get aroused from my victims screams!
The black assassin and me soak in the blood of our enemies.
Rap is still poetry, and we are causing war like an annihilating disease!!
Note: William Herbin wrote first stanza, I wrote second. TO say "hey" to this write
of music...His infor: William Herbin #0644770 P. O. Box 506 Maury NC 28554
metamorphosis
-you see roots of light, filaments:
it's a miracle speeding ponderously, splendorously
where a congregation of stars transfigure into a winged-galaxy
and spiral-Angels glitter in your eyes --
dancing between every wondrous thing
in time and space matters,
orbiting infinitely in
where every round thing begins --
first-light at the edge of the fatal-skin you're in
rises in longing swells, the measure of your heart;
a nebulae of mystery, the numinous light of peregrinated stories --
from stars we come to stars we shall return,
this ancient ache of longing urging us to burn,
to shine on 'n on from inside out,
where illumination is a fire without any doubt
I'm not worried, now, she is beautiful
no need to hurry, now, she never dies
in infinite nights, she is carried far and away ...