Best Transmogrify Poems
transmogrify
once upon a time
one knew how to begin
the state of the day dream,
by removing the mind,
shedding the every day
paraphernalia, then escaping
into a realm just
above the physical
wishes were formed
refined into possibilities.
great words were put together
fashioning unforgettable thoughts
ideas. solve the world,
feed the hungry, succour the afflicted
find lasting love
with someone who understands.
that was once upon time
when youth invaded every corner
of life with depth of
time. now it has shrunk
crept away unnoticed into
the place of things forgotten.
reverie of age has become,
into this wandering mind-time
now the escape does
not require active initiation.
it flows without boundaries
between here, now, and then.
the shape has changed from
slightly tenuous but graspable
to muzzy melted cotton candy
clouds sweet but impossible
to construct. depth is lost
with the passage of time
the betrayer of all day dreams.
presently lay down,
surrounded by personnel myths
slowly, gently transmogrify
into whom you have always been.
sad
and stuck
giving up
feeling hopeless
living in a fog
forgetting to care now
losing all of our purpose
opposite of Don Quixote
our optimism down the river
wishing life dreams could transmogrify us
Like a tumbleweed aimlessly blowing in the wind
across infinitely open and wide prairie home companion land
(which wasteland famously epitomized by T.S. Elliot)
a barren vista ravages metaphorical landscape
of one measly mortal malcontent male
bumping and scraping along accursed habiliment
just barely avoiding and dodging diabolical demons
mercilessly and unrelentingly ready
to seduce this somewhat sanguine Simian
who finds himself amidst the pitfalls
of a tortured and twisted existence
racked with pinions describe bing
a demonic dragon filled dungeon
damp, dark, demented domains –
a veritable no man’s land
impossible to escape no matter how fast I -
as a foo fighter flee
from the fearful, fierce-some phantasmagoric forms
figments of my imagination seemingly real
tangible as bone and flesh
who haunt sacred crowded house of slumber
transmogrify me into a loathsome madman
ranting raving senseless gibberish and sic gobbledygook
perceived as metaphysically n philosophically insane
as soundgarden syllabification
from one womanly World Wide Web wayfarer
which virtual vagabond venerates vowels
and possesses means and tees to till verse
akin to a sorceress who waves a magic wand
to produce supreme sentences
weaves tantalizing terrific tweed topographic tundra’s
that this admirer of her artful and colorful poetic endeavors
prompts me to accompany my mindscape
as a thought-provoking troubadour
amidst the information super byways and highways
along winding labyrinths of critical thinking
or simply stepping o'er rolling stones
of silly rhymes without wing less reason
all the while giving subtle egress
into that chamber of secrets
long kept shut tight to maintain
that sure footed stance of solitude
whose only entities happened
to constitute trappings of literary lugubriousness
those tombs of largesse identified
as great works and masterpieces of literature
yet careful to avoid complete intimacy
lest that cherished solitude shattered
and a heart rent asunder
twin tower ring inferno imp perils of loss that provide
an understandable cautionary tale
to the author of this rambling missive
a most profoundly perceptive acute Ape man
touched to the quick with a bit of angel dust
aware that this agonized and angst riddled arboreal beast
contents himself with the confines of cyberspace!
A set of siblings was in an effervesce
Of blossoms and bubbles.
This world to each was a bundle of joy.
They laugh and played like two girls should.
Somewhat different, as each became older, they would be captivated by desires.
There in a beautiful presence they thrived.
The blossoms were called The Country of Beautiful Florets.
In bubbles, this Country eternally occurred to exist.
God would choose this Country as his Kingdom.
These sibs were of royal blood.
Each emotionally governed the people ways.
Both espoused on the same day.
During one diurnal course, their world became dark
To reveal their purpose.
The bubbles formed a body of knowledge.
The blossoms would transmogrify humanity.
Yet the Country would revolve
Evolutionary to rebuild a new universe.
Worldly prophesy escaped
From a cosmopolitan figurehead.
God had redefined
As known!
The twins were part of his Throne.
Realm in matrimony within the brotherhood.
_______________________________________________|
Penned March 26, 2015!
The snow before honey hued sun flees
The rivers begin to unfreeze
The fragrance of field flowers and bonfire is carried by spring breeze
Catkin begins to grow soon flowers will be pollinated by bees
Transverseing the linen blue visage of heavens is the flock of returning geese
The stillness of the meadow gives you false impression that everything is at peace
But wonders of both natural and supernatural never cease
And at spring time their output will increase
The amber colored leaves of ramifying willow stretch to the sky
They look like mosaic made from oceanic depths to anything that above them will fly
Its soul is like someone would make its cells transmogrify
Into bizarre form that in strange sideline of the mind will lie
The abyss of those forms to such immeasurable depths leads
That absolute counterbalance to make it real it needs
But neural flame those boundaries exceeds
And neural flame fueled none linearity is what this ability feeds
Read me,
As the words begin to dance, vacillating bewilderedly.
Without knowing who and where, or even when,
Foolishly stepped out, to meet a kind
The kind with bitter, chunderous, nature.
Kind, very kind without a doubt.
A warm, contrasting view of this being
4 limbs, 2 faces, steps out to greet me,
With its soft, frail hand,
I pity the misunderstood, as rumours mutate
And transmogrify, smothering the barbarous reality
It smiled at me with one face
While the truth is
I set out to meet something different
Something much different,
Something noxious, oppressive being entitled
To authoritarianism, ideology and power
But it wasn’t here.
Or at least not yet
Transmogrify the sensationalist
An astute ableism of absolution and idiocy
Divine demeaning meanings demoralizing democracy
Through persuasive procrastination and promiscuity
Festering fragmented feelings forgiven for failing
Jailing juveniles jealously just for jokes
Writing worrisome wit without witnesses to worry
Original orange and ornate operations
While whittling away wisdom in the White House
Tear apart traditionalism and tribalism
Innocent eyes are protuberant eyes
Observing awful atrocities at times absently
Transmogrify the sensationalist
That sensationalist is now president
Sitting on a throne of falsities and blatant lies
Reject form and comprehension of standardized realities
Garnish lies with a touch of fear
And it's gourmet for the uneducated
Saunter and swagger through scandal
All the while destroying those who granted you platform
Normal is abnormal and abnormal is normal
Forget saving the system we must destroy it
And build it back up from scratch
IT'S TIME TO WAKE UP AMERICA
WAKE UP!
WAKE UP!
WAKE UP!
WAKE UP!
Transmogrify the sensationalist
And even the devil blushes
Transmogrify the sensationalist
By waking up America
WAKE UP!
WAKE UP!
WAKE UP!
WAKE UP!
It's time to wake up, America!
No citadel’s too tall for mortals like you.
Even acclivity of mounts fear of bipeds like you.
Adam’s ale in its ampleness has lost its meaning.
And only with your condonance,
do the flowers un-bud and birds do sing.
But let’s see, if this almighty can pass in my little catechism;
And a test it is; shouldn’t be misconceived with any criticism:
So, in the unfolding, will you also make the butterfly to unfold,
its hued aileron as per your yearn and control?
And As per your hankering, will you as well repaint,
the black calamus of the cormorant?
What has been quenching the thirst for years,
will now go from blue to black?
will you do all this to everyone and
Then save yourself the flak?
Will the new clock scoot a tick?
The viaducts have no brick?
Will the berdas rumble and the cougars sing?
Will the off-springs dummy up their begetters in the forthcoming?
Succumb or give an answer, are the only ways you’ve got!
Cause’ what you’ve been doing, I dub it as prying.
And there exists no amnesty for what you’ve been trying.
You’ve been a fine jeweler for the prime;
Validating the originality of a corundum’s been your style.
So how come you changed your vogue; negative appraisal is all you report?
Since when were you born with the power to transmogrify?
One could not get to azure, if you ever denied?
It’s never too late for home, even if you start back today,
You’re never too late for home, if you grow into a new You on the way.
You’ve been vexing the orb for years and yet go on, cause it owns no speech.
Narcissistic you are I hate to say; You never did as you preached.
But you still get a chance, to outweigh all your flaws,
Capitulate to the architect; cause he’s the only one who knows,
How the orb would relearn to live and the art for the orb to re-grow.
To bend is not for the anemic; But for those who aspire to learn.
Meek you’re not but strong enough to have ‘to be transformed’, as what you yearn.
Believe me when you reach home today,
they will get to see the stronger You.
For yes, I’d still like to admit
No citadel’s too tall for a mortal like you.
Snowy eerie cloud shaped like a flying man,faceless,behind him chunks of success.
In seconds it transmogrify s into a Beautiful Hurricane.
Black color despises the white beginning.
Taking over,black fencely loves freedom that's illusive,as its semi-trapped by white.
So white loved black by hiding light somehow,for it knew black's care would eventually retrogress hearts.
Again black shows love,as it crucifys freedom by introducing justice-in.
White hates a little more by criticizing the suggested color blend of fidelity-in.
To interchange,the painter asks,
"Does white make black look good,or vice versa?"
Poet,"Are they not both colors with a purpose."
Singers sang that song,nothing has changed to date.
By M.O.O aka The color blind human
Akin a tumbleweeds
aimlessly blowing in the wind
umlaut punctuation
courtesy of let herd Mother Nature
nsync with markie mark,
(or other faux nuke heads
on silent auction
ajudicating bidding chopping block)
or getting sparred
sum xtra mo' mints
before morphing into gamut
tuff height (against opposing
super cross currents)
bow willing head over heals
deftly thwarting encroaching
enfilade enhancing
invading army of deplorable
dust devilish debris
with full Stanley steamer ahead onslaught
opposing approaching phalanx
ta become a foo lush fighter
putting kibosh
across the infinitely open
and wide prairie land
(which wasteland fictitiously
epitomized and described by T.S. Elliot
with absolute zero relevancy here)
a barren vista ravages
metaphorical landscape
of one measly mortal malcontent male
bumping and scraping
along an accursed habiliment
just barely avoiding
and dodging diabolical demons
mercilessly unrelentingly ready
to seduce this somewhat sanguine Simian
who finds himself amidst pitfalls
of a tortured and twisted existence
racked with up pinions
(halving smartly put irons in the fire)
deployed incognito
tub hest describe demonic dungeons
damp, dark, demented domains -
a veritable no man's land
and one impossible to escape
from no matter how fast I flee
from the fearful, fiercesome
and phantasmagoric forms
figments of imagination
yet real and tangible as bone and flesh
haunt sacred house of slumber
and transmogrify me
into a loathsome madman
ranting and raving senseless
gibberish and gobbledygook
yet perceived as metaphysical
and philosophical
sane state farm mister soundcloud
syllabification stutterer
from one whoa man
World Wide Web wayfarer
(perchance yourself)
which virtual vagabond
venerates vowels...
Would you be willing to have a honey bee house?
My cousin said yes to this.
bees could choose a plethora of flowers in her yard
Acres of flowers
she has only seen one honey bee near them
But many yellow and black bumblebees
Are the bumblebees bullies? Thugs?
The honeybees stay close to their bee house
It is curious
I will transmogrify into a bee and find out
Since my stroke, I deal with a shrunken world.
Surprisingly, a shrunken desire to visit,
also has emerged; I'd buy a coffin
to hold in readiness, but I'll be cremated
and a cardboard box is all I need, I'm told,
for that. Here's my dollar bill.
Were I from India, a barge could take me
to the current in the Ganges
where fire upon the water sanctifies
the journey to transmogrify a western soul,
afixing it forever to the earth.
Within the bubble of my consciousness,
however, my universe embraces endless joy,
and it is yours, as well.
To quantify reality in any way
succombs to madness.
Somewhere, someone has it figured out.
The wind is at his back;
he knows impassively
that there is singing in the hills,
and always there are problems to give life
to every celebration planned, and right behind
someone to love and demonstrate
compassion.
Someone.
Someone to teach us to listen.
Someone...
Please, let there always be Someone
~
I reached out through the ether and the haze And there was you When I'm lost I see through your eyes a way for me All my grey and cloudy days transmogrify to blue The sincere, soulful feel of you ignites through the haze And now my sky is eternally ablaze~~~
I will be the princess of the dynasty
The princess of the corkscrew
The princess of the underwear drawer
There is a lot of laughter
Sybil does not understand the others.
She is not amused or laughing
She gets out her tarot cards and her runes.
Begins plotting the spells that will transmogrify the others
VERACITY
Vivacious being
Lens of history
Pain to hope!
So beautiful -
Inspiratory
Tears form.
Transmogrify!
Restore inner peace -
_________________|
PENNED ON AUGUST 22, 2014!