Best Transformer Poems
THE MAD SECRETARY
Hunched over the computer, I am mystical,
With mental white gloves and a karate belt -
A daylight cursor, but on my bicycle,
A word and energy transformer, a flickering Celt.
Such metaphysics I can make into sensation,
Turned into binary formulae by the boss,
My passion is for punctuation-
But the lingua franca doesn’t give a toss.
I see the point. I accommodate the pause.
I rinse the cups and make the coffee sweet,
I am saving myself for this man of laws,
Of Brehon provenance, who will entreat
Me to be his love, his partner and co-genitor,
Of a life graph, where he can trust the monitor.
(c) Rosemarie Rowley
From IN MEMORY OF HER (2008)
Nikola Tesla came to America in the 1880's to work with Thomas Edison,
a lot of his brilliant ideas getting patented by others who had a bank run,
today being the anniversary of his dying poor in a hotel in New York City,
a pioneer of a/c transmission and wireless technology he will always be a genius in history.
1-7-17
Addendum: Tesla was born in Croatia on 7-10-1856 and died in NY city on 1-7-1943.
Inventions:
A/C power transmission
Death ray machine
Fluorescent lights
Induction motor
Radio
Polyphase a/c system
Rotating magnetic field principle
Telephone repeater
Tesla coil transformer
Wireless communication
A mental disorder caused by watching too many Transformer movies. In the first stage of the disease, the afflicted will experience lethargy, loss of speech, appetite, and sense of impending doom. The second, or hallucinatory stage, is characterized by irrational fear of Japanese cars, cell phone towers, TA Truck Stops, Swiss Army pocket knives, and vacuum cleaners with multiple attachments. In the third and final stage, the afflicted will take on the persona of a rogue FBI agent and insist that the truth is out there.
It is a business truth
And transformer of lenders into Ruth
Who have been infamous Shylock
Or a hesitant safe with lock ...
A borrower to soften his voice
And watch its magic
By far more helpful than a cobra’s poise
Or Insistent Logic;
A lender’s lost key to his savings booth
Quietly warranting a hammer or Jaguar’s tooth
The voice of the badly broke
When penury has begun to choke
Should be often tender
To the rescuing lender
The broke an unconditional blender
For the service lender has to render.
Pride is a motivator, a stimulator of scarlet soul
an accelerator to the next glorious goal
generator of newcoming awakening
cultivator out cunning the unkind
cutting away all the doubts and flouts, leaving the babel and rabble behind,
a slayer of beasts and witches,
pulverizer of all that threatens my wishes,
Pride is an educator, a teacher whom need not flatter
or conspire to push passion higher,
a preacher promisin that you can be better than you thought you were,
transformer from the mediocre to a raw reformer
makin my heart the perfect love performer
romanticizer of the love battles that my Lady and I thunder
reinforcer of our durable dreams, encourager for our beautiful hunger,
Pride has weather, moving me to smile at the wind and bear the barbs of error,
an innovator of my instincts, reflector of bleeding color
It compells me to be a competitor, a finisher, and a star runner,
my blessings won't bow to humble hoaxes
my talent cannot tolerate the tamming of tragedies
my courage will not cower with the false virtue of humble hypnotism
ain't no way a honkeytonk humbler gonna wear away my sway,
my faith will not stumble upon the stones of humble wastelands,
I wasn't born to walk with humble eyes,
I'm alive to thrive with a sacred strive,
in pride I hear the voice of my Creator say, be great or die!
J.A.B.
Dear vibrant artist
Magic is bestowed on you
Master transformer
Lead the way through the dark night
Your call illuminates souls
Looking out upon my garden on spring morning
dew on grass, new shoots appearing natures best
daffodils, tulips, primrose, beautiful new life dawning
pollinators emerge collecting pollen after winter rest
evergreens coordinate with shade loving flowers
finding shelter in herbaceous borders, glorious
thoughts, aromas, wildlife reproducing new life
shafts of light creating shadows, expecting showers
seasons of change, pleasant celestial rays notorious
for encouraging wonderful blooms and loosestrife,
my old garden swing so inviting, comfortable perch
to rest my weary bones upon while my eyes delight
at natures wonders, shaded by my giant silver birch
potted Japanese acer so elegant sweetness and light
return of perennials as Mother Earth becomes warmer
sweet smelling Lavender, colourful penstemon,
sun loving helenium, gorgeous variegated geraniums
bursting into life invigorating garden transformer
rainbows of colour from blues yellows to salmon
old English roses perfume able to fill stadiums
so joyful now my garden is in bloom colourful and bright
with aromas from honeysuckle and Jasmine at night.
Composed on 02/04/2017.
Contest ode to flowers.
lightning
sets the power transformer
on fire
counts the seconds he lives
before the machine breathes
NEST
Tiny red bellied birds
Busy building a nest
on an electricity transformer !
The couple
Use rubbish of nearby
Cable factory
Pease of wires, cables
different sizes, and shapes
wing its way
Trapping in the sharp beaks
Irritable noise alarmed…
The couple
Exhaustedly
Sat a while on a wire, looking around
A little lad watching curiously
Asked,
What you funny birds do there!
She bird replied with a sorrowful mew
Because,
You’re voracious, merciless
And
Destroyed our lovely habited!!
Jayaratne Weerakkody
I have a friend yeah a subconscious one
Always following me in the days vibrant sun.
He's very very like me from the heels to the head
And he's there until I jump into bed.
But he's also very very not like me at all,
Like there are days when he can be so god damn tall!
There are those times he swells widely with pride
And there are days when he hibernates happy to hide.
He's made up of choices I have yet or afraid to find
If I delve in deeper I may wish to fast forward or rewind.
He contains my invisible parts I still have to discover
Moreover my future self held for ransom.
I reckon he's made of igneous rock, in bright light
He shoots up like a transformer, Mr. Biotite.
I wonder what it thinks of me with each passing day
Cowardly out of my vision like a bird of prey.
Yet if we lost it we would shrivel like a dried prune
Our existence imbalanced no longer in tune.
See we've got a friend, a subconscious one
In the long run will show us how things are done.
She is an alien. She comes from the sky. She is a shapeshifter. She is a transformer. She is a changeling. She can shape mice into wolverines. She can transform alleys into expressways. She can change whispers into revelation. She is swifter than a comet. She can fly rings around the world. She is an interstellar maverick. She is a space cowgirl.
She is an alien. She comes from the sky. She has eyes that see the future. She has eyes that see the truth. She is warm. She is kind. She laughs at my jokes. She is a soul hunter. She is a slayer. She is a necromancer. She dances on the Moon. She sings to the stars. In my dreams, she sings to me. She was a princess in the sky. She is a queen on Earth. She is the First. She is the Other. She is an alien.
She is not a supernatural
All she is - a being of morals
She is not invinscible
Yet, She can be divisible
A shed light in a darkened room
An inspiration to a person in doom
A transformer in many things
A quiet fighter in anything
A sister she can be
A friend she can be
A mother she can become
A baby she can come
A casual smile she can release
Giving someone a sudden bliss
When tear pours and uncease
It weakens or ruins anyone's peace
Indeed, she is a supergirl
On whole wide world at twirl
Independently ravaging
Graciously empowering
by: olive_eloi
10:09am
01/15/2014
CONTEST: any poem # 20 Free Poetry
SPONSOR: Poet Destroyer A
6TH PLACE
----+-----------------»»»»
Sometimes, we fly like paper planes
Gliding in the air, silent, with no roar of a jet.
Sometimes proud, putting on the mane like we’re never gonna hit the dirt.
Changing our lanes every time we get hurt.
With the least turbulence and bad weather
We turn around or pummel to the ground when we experience danger.
Fly like a jumbo;
Not depending solely on the flow.
Fly majestically. Ride the wild winds.
Break through the ice in the clouds.
Even if you begin to fall,
Do not enter the state of dismay, whether in a stall.
This ain’t no mayday, do not make that call.
You may have struck ice, but believe in yourself. You ain’t no titanic.
This day isn’t that different. Enjoy it.
It’s a can-day.
Fire the engines once again. Make that ascent.
Be a jetfighter. Let the stars cream.
Like a transformer, make some changes.
As the Typhoon, ride the winds. Take the journey across.
Your weakness may be air-to-ground but I think we all agree: that isn’t your
purpose.
Be a Sidewinder missile. Seek your target
Don’t give up. Do not explode. No. Not just yet.
Like the shuttle, launch into space, out of this domain.
Not even the sky, is your limit.
Time to close this piece. Returning to base.
Continue to be who you are. Be different.
Sometimes I feel my life is a curse
My birth is a mistake or got a fate that went empty
I find nothing inside it that could be given to me
No power, no money
No glamour, not even a tinge of Madonna
Sometimes I feel I got a blessed life
On anything, if I wish, I can write
This is a big lottery I won
The power, it wields more than a transformer
With the passage of time when glamour vanishes
The beauty of my writing day by day increases
This is a real confusion
And bring a conflict within the understanding of life
Sometimes for good, sometimes for bad
In my misery times, I look up
And become very sad seeing the colorful life of a cloud
Sorrow I sing and mingle the tune in the air
With a heavy atmosphere, I look down
The pain slowly goes away and mood takes a u-turn
From a gloomy person, I become a happy man
After seeing the life of a strapped leaf
And the people downtrodden who live at down Town Street.
I've come to accept
I'll never do laundry
without losing a sock
I'll never know how
to fold a fitted sheet
or...
...even the face in the mirror
I just don't know why
after having never done so
no more than once or twice
I still believe I can fly
I want to be
one of those pretty birds
who
effortlessly sings
spreads its wings
and pierces the sky
but why try I think sometimes
I might be
I 'm just another broken butterfly
after all
I'm always the white knight
trying to love one
like Jesus
I'm good with things on the ground
like beer, whiskey, and pool
drugs, thugs
what walks the street
the darkness
doesn't consume me
it's just comfortable
but
not
my best happy
what?
do I have to die to fly?
you know how I try
sending words to the sky
believing they'll lift me
well
laugh out loud
I'm just another one
in the
deluded crowd
or
maybe
nobody gets me
yeah
the transformer truck beeps
and backs down the street
it forgets to pick up my garbage
that's okay
it's just another day
I lost a sock
tried to fold a fitted sheet
and
accepted the face in the mirror