Best Transitioned Poems
By Valerie D. Staton
Down a long winding road there lived Old Betty Ann
In an old wooden house, the color of sand
Her home was surrounded by gardens and trees
And wind chimes that sung with the stir of a breeze
Most days Betty Ann could be found on her swing
It was above her porch and asparagus green
She’d kick off with a foot and then she would soar
Each vacillation higher than the one before
Betty Ann loved her metal swing so much
Only by permission could it be touched
Every year its color would be renewed
In either white, green or cobalt blue
She often sat on the old swing to knit
When in a good mood she’d allow others to sit
There was not much Betty Ann could not do
In the cast iron swing that was built for two
When Betty became ill and the end was near
She gathered together all those she held dear
"Before I go family, I ask one thing...
For one last ride inside my swing."
On the final day before Betty Ann died
She was placed in the swing for her final ride
And thus she transitioned doing what she loved most
She took one last swing then gave up the ghost
Categories:
transitioned, color, death, fun, garden,
Form:
Rhyme
Mommy Can You Hear Me?
I know you're not ready to raise a baby, because you're all alone now, but mommy can you hear me?
You thought he was going to stay because he made you feel as if, the feeling of your body pressed on his, was a feeling that world could't resist, but mommy just hear me
where are you going mommy, don't do it
this man isn't your friend, he wants to take me
mommy just hear me
lay your legs and spread, it won't hurt
words that were too easy to hear, words that were too familiar to your mind, words that every time was said, always transitioned to be a lie
because he left me, left me with the burden that I have to bear of killing my only child
and you doctor, you're a liar, because although it may not hurt physically, this three hundred dollars, that's going towards your check, I can feel it, in my stomach
oh gosh my stomach
this pain is sucking my babies life away
300 dollars? the price that it took to take my babies life away
would you believe these tears came alive, as if the same time these tears coming down my face, the blood coming from my veins, rushing down my leg, baby it's you
my vagina bleed your tears
baby I hear you
but now I disgust me
because the lies, that I heard from him, you or her, did not give me the right to kill my only child
because I could of loved you
even if you were a product of a one night stand
because you would of loved me
when the days were dark we could of ran, jumped and played in the park
made up for all the mistakes, starting with the night that I laid my back on a bed to a boy who I knew wasn't enough
how could I be so naive, to let him break your dreams of me being the best person you'll ever meet
baby I hear you
I know sorry isn't enough, because it's messed up I never gave you a chance
but baby, I'm sorry
Can You Hear Me?
Categories:
transitioned, birth, death, me, pain,
Form:
Narrative
God bestowed a blessing upon me;
When He chose you as my mother.
For me He chose a Christian woman,
I am glad there was no other.
When I say Christian, that's Christ-like,
I will explain what I am saying,
Sharing and caring you taught us,
Meditating and constantly praying.
There was a difference in you mom,
You set yourself aside;
You placed you hand and life in God's Hand,
And allowed Him to be your guide.
You did well in raising your kids;
As best could be expected.
You made sure that in doing so;
Praising the Lord was never neglected.
You diligently took the time,
To teach us right from wrong.
You possessed a love that was kind;
Understanding, gentle and strong.
A Christian Mother,
That's what you are.
And you will always be;
My shining star.
And I wish you a long and happy life;
A lot less misery and no more strife.
And my God bless every life you touch,
And remember I love you so very, very much.
Dedicated to Mother Pearl Yant Mother's Day 1998
Transitioned on 4/8/2004
Categories:
transitioned, christian, mother, mothers day,
Form:
Rhyme
My flesh and blood
refused to follow me
refused the notion of the flood
fought for right, not for me
Duty served
country proud
Now we two sons confess
we have transitioned to the dress
Father hid all the witnesses
to the truth of his two creations
from the watchtower he decried
the beauty, compassion and love
all he derides
Categories:
transitioned, allah, betrayal, bible, bullying,
Form:
Free verse
From the past days of old.
At Seventh Street & Florence Avenue.
Vehicles in pristine finished.
Bragging Rights Mint Condition.
Proudly rolled by in a yearly tribute.
Very close behind did the present.
Spanking brand new, Virgilina's, VA.
Town's first responders debut their life-
saving vehicles of rescue.
Summer Fest proudly displayed.
Awesomely colored painted fine cars.
Including trucks and plowing tractors.
The drivers and passengers.
Cheerfully waived tossing smiles and candy.
I watched so many of the children laughing.
Enjoying themselves while playfully.
Scrambling to grab all and as many.
Of the tossed free candies.
So very comforting it was to see.
Neighbors, visitors, friends and family.
Witnessing together.
Standing side by side
In such a loving comradely.
History and our future.
Embracing one another.
In supreme harmony.
Refreshing the supportive celebration.
Veterans from old world wars of our past.
Keeping close in step were our gallant;
soldiers of wars in our present time.
Today's events were also in celebration.
Of the soldiers whom honorably.
Transitioned to a much peaceful home.
This was a very lovely quick get away.
Cotton candy, home made ice cream.
Scenie's Old-fashioned Peanut Brittle.
Freshly squeezed lemonade.
How fortunate to meet Ms Marion Woods.
Author of Uncle Jerdon's Farm Children' Book.
Thanks to my cousin Natarsha.
I am experiencing a very lovely.
Memorial Weekend Holiday.
My Uncle Joe Lassiter our beloved Veteran.
His daughter and my cousin Andrea Miller.
Stood in the longest line waiting patiently.
For what I learned was the town's best.
Brunswick Stew.
It's evening now I sit here as one.
Within this blissful time in nature.
Pleasantly at peace.
Relaxed taking in the beauty.
Of this picturesque piece of land.
Reflectively pondering.
On on this lovely day.
I joyfully have a writing instrument.
Very close at hand.
Categories:
transitioned, celebration, community, history, holiday,
Form:
Free verse
I wish I can go back , to where it all began.
I should have said something, I should have taken a stand.
I feel like a butterfly, but only in reverse...what I really am is LARVA,
the beginning the first.
My stories pretty simple, its not hard to define. Somewhere at some, strange moment. I transitioned.
& lost in mind.
I think I was falling IN LOVE, but didnt know, how to deal.
I disguised myself, like the wings of a butterfly, this became my shield.
I felt like a PUPA, not yet ready to open my wings....still growing and maturing ,
still not knowing. Anything
If I was a butterfly kissed, I would tell myself this.
There is no plan in life, we simply exist.
We are all butterflys , Morphing everyday, Finding our own stories, in very unique ways.
We cannot alter, what has already been, done
We can only acknowledge, & learn from our past,
and in the present, move on......
Categories:
transitioned, butterfly, metaphor,
Form:
Rhyme
From the first conversation, I was immensely intrigued
My plans slowly transitioned into our plans
Smiles graced our faces
Suddenly and swiftly that happiness was erased from existence
"I have a boyfriend"
The phrase that shook up my core
Unstable and unbalanced, I struggled to get myself together
Here today, gone tomorrow
You remain vividly clear in my eyes, but my hands remain unfamiliar with your territory
One wants what one cant have
Heart felt advances toward the one that will remain nameless
Categories:
transitioned, beautiful, care, chocolate, daughter,
Form:
Free verse
I have always been curious about people from Kurdistan
I wonder why they are called kurds
I wonder when the kurds would become keese
Just like curd becomes cheese
I wonder if birds are called “birds” because they come from “Birdistan”…..
Okay, that kurd-bird joke one time never went down well
One audience I entertained transitioned from swelling to swearing
The agitated audience looked at each other, left and right
The bird joke got me pelted and unhired, now I'm a fly-by-night comic
The joke was inspired by a 12 year kid I once knew, nicknamed “Talk shop”
He used to hang around the market stands and chatted nonstop
The lad knew almost all of the countries with syllables ending with “–stan”
He bragged about Kazakhstan, Tajikstan, Uzbekistan, with the “stans” he was never done
The smart-****’s Turkistan questions hit me like a slap
Unrelentingly he tested me to spot Manhattan on the map
I totally lost my geography to the kids embarrassing pressure
The kid burst into a belly laugh when my finger hovered over Asia
In trying to change the subject, I asked him about the story of Tristan
I was zipped into silence when he told me stick to geography and not romance
I asked the kid what his real name was, and how he got an extra memory chip
He said if he taught me how, the conversation would flip
And then he revealed what his real name was with a “My name is Stan, duh!”
A felt relieved, as adult dumbness left my shoulder
I bet you would know every country and its geographical location
If it was made up of some weird syllables sneaking up on your name
The cocky kid asked me to test him on anything
I went spiritual, a subject the kid probably had no grip on
I asked him why we confess to a priest, if God can directly hear us pray
He said “so that we can have an eye witness on judgment day”
I tried to get rid of the boy by pretending to be bored
But I let the boy stay, when he told me that I would miss him one day when I get old
Categories:
transitioned, boy, feelings, fun, funny
Form:
Free verse
I listen because Sound is not dead, but living.
I listen because I hear life through a variety of sounds. Sounds shout, cry, sing, soothe, provoke, and sometimes even pause.
I don’t listen when sound is compromised, influenced, beaten, killed (to crush silence), overwhelming or even artificial. Sound is meant to be pure; it is meant to be thoughtless.
I listen to sounds that are powerful, but are inherently ignored.
I listen for those who don’t know how to listen. I listen for those who were taught to take pride in their work, that they forget to leave time to take pride in their world. Sound speaks to everybody, but very few listen. We are told to focus; focus on our work, ourselves, and on others. We are distracted by this ambient truth.
I listen to sounds in silence.
I listen because of Mother Nature’s cooing, soft sounds guiding my mind to wander and to be set free. Her pure, natural voice is a comfort for all those who take the time to listen. She is the creator of all natural sounds, residing in every living thing. She whispers and yells; she cries and laughs; she never stops speaking. Mother nature is found is silence.
I listen to sounds that are unaffected by us; the sound of an infant’s heartbeat; the sound of a mourning dove’s song; the sound of a river rushing. Pure sounds are everywhere, but are clouded by us.
I listen, but not always succeed. I am conquered by the artificial, industrial world. My mind is blurred by construction, the radio, buzzing lights, television, and all things that are fabricated by us. It is unnaturally natural to do so, and we can’t take the whole blame. The world has been transitioned into artificial headphones, muting the natural world, and barricading our ears. However, if we detach ourselves, we can listen, listen to pure sounds.
I listen because I heard the truth, and the truth has spoken to me.
Because sounds never stop; they never stop crying; they never stop laughing; they never stop speaking.
Sound will never die.
Categories:
transitioned, absence,
Form:
Narrative
On the car ride to chaos
I let the soft instrumental music
trace along the corners of my mind
easing the knot inside
my eyes shut, as the sun’s warmth fell;
Like an orphaned leaf subtly on a lulled lake.
The sun afresh;
playing hide and seek with the trees,
I rested exquisitely.
Slowly but inconsistently,
like honey in water,
the warmth lazily spread its way
through my pores making way to my unkempt heart,
Polishing away around each jagged edge and corner;
All the way down to the very roots, crumbling the crass.
Light shone on broken glass,
(once despicably destruct)
transitioned into my heart.
Once again christened and ready for war, I thought;
Perhaps in the moment between a swelling tide and a catastrophic wave,
The calm in the chaos- a catalyst before the next storm?
Categories:
transitioned, beauty, growth, motivation, music,
Form:
Free verse
The world is full of violence, death, chaos and so confusing
And it seems that in most of us our minds we are losing
But there is this one thing that I want you to take to heart
That no matter what's happening in your life you are important to God
Now God can't come down to earth and fix things with His own hands
So He puts us in positions to carry forth His plans
Yes, God sent us a play book perfect in its commission
He just wants us to remember what is our position
To be in that place where we have the ability to receive the Holy Spirit
Positioned in that place where we are strongly connected to It
Now able to download the anointed word of God
Positioned to take it into the depths of our hearts
To understand that we may have to leave our comfort zones
Believing God will never forsake us nor leave us alone
To clean out that hard drive full of memories that won't allow us to move ahead
To remove the cookies from your chip that are unused,unread and dead
Able to let go of long ago hurts, pains and bitterness
Making room to download God's righteousness
Now with the capability to upgrade and receive the heavenly key
For you are important to God and He wants you to increase
So allow God to position you where you will prosper and be strong
With the key of perseverance in the place where you belong
For God will upgrade you through trials and tribulations
As the sweetest victories always come after difficult situations
Yes, the world will judge you based on your performance and whatever you do
While God is only concerned with your character
and the level of perseverance that's in you
Now perfectly transitioned with godly maturity
For you are important to God and He'll send godly opportunities
Just don't allow the enemy to discern your expectations
And give it the opportunity to determine your destination
Perfectly positioned, fully loaded,upgraded and transitioned
As you are important to God so go forth with your Great Commission
Categories:
transitioned, encouraging, faith, god, inspirational,
Form:
Didactic
Bonny by boat
The skater did at the break of dawn
Commence her rhythm-less glide
Down her south-easterly meandering rink-
Not on ice; cold and hard,
But, on a brackish, salty, watery waste
Eyeless spectators flanked the course
Blindly staring on in silent cheer
Waving their branches and their leaves
Side to side and back and forth;
Rhythmic dance to the whims of the wind
Minutes, into an hour ticked by
A fish or two, time after time
launched out, like Olympic jumpers
vaulting over imaginary bars
And disappearing in a trail of ripples
Painted canvas unwound from a reel
A scenic movie before stationary eyes
Or was the landscape still, and our eyes did rove,
As we transitioned from the jetty,
Journeying from Port Harcourt to Bonny?
Categories:
transitioned, environment, imagery, journey,
Form:
Free verse
What use to be so very handsome
Very good looking and fine guys.
I am sure are a painful sight.
In any mother's eyes.
The street recruited most by mere surprise.
Unknowingly it was a down payment.
Unseen the enemy lay.
In darkness patiently await the collection.
Now walking pictures.
Some with reflections on non recognition.
Refusing any resources of rescue.
The once promised.
Lives are now filled with grave disparity.
Walking daily down the stairs of death.
Walking in pairs.
Some walk alone.
With the common denominator being.
The streets have now become home.
My heart goes out to the parents.
Whether living or already gone on.
I sympathize with loved ones.
Those that are left.
After mom and dad have transitioned on.
To painfully endure the brokenness.
Of hurtful choices with a dim future.
Now living in demise.
Those painful tears now fall.
From the next generations eyes.
When the day of death come.
The enemy jumps for joy.
Paid in full he collects his prize.
Categories:
transitioned, abuse, addiction, for him,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
A Caddo heart stopped beating,
On October nineteen ninety-seven.
The Social Dancing head singer,
Has transitioned into Heaven.
With a great ear for music,
The Turkey Dance rang aloud.
And the beating of the drum's,
Rhythm moved the crowd.
With a well of traditional stories,
He’d begin and others sang along.
The seasonal dances forever yearn;
The keeper of the songs.
______________________________
This is a tribute to Wimpy Edmonds.
The last member of the Caddo tribe,
who new all the traditional songs.
The lead singer and head drummer,
for Native American music at Pow-Wows.
www.texasbeyondhistory.net/tejas/voices/today.html
Categories:
transitioned, native american, nostalgia,
Form:
Ekphrasis
Lost and stolen child
Dark world, ugly days
Our world! Green world of grin, wickedness
Few friends to trust, No stays
Transitioned from poor to bad world, no happiness
He is gone leaving scar in my heart
You ‘He’, I’m successionally sorrowing silently for your forever absence
I wake up consecutively in the Mid-hours due to this hurt
I’ trying to forget you but I’m used to your presence
But only God knows where you are…
One day reveal the truth to me, Lord
Bring on them angels to lead me far
Look at me heal my sufferings it’s hard my God
To my grievings for my past years
And yes I admit I will learn to change over my next years
Categories:
transitioned, absence, baby, emotions,
Form:
Sonnet