Best Transmutes Poems
A sunbaked pile of dead sticks in the ground
I’m a divine oversight, it would seem
Hundreds of long spines poke out all around
Yet inside resides a colorful dream
I’m a divine oversight, it would seem
Look past my thorns, though they do seem countless
Yet inside resides a colorful dream
Deep down, I’m hiding a beauty boundless
Look past my thorns, though they do seem countless
Moisture kisses my roots in the springtime
Deep down, I’m hiding a beauty boundless
To this kindness, sprout tiny leaves sublime
Moisture kisses my roots in the springtime
Chlorophyll captures hard radiation
To this kindness, sprout tiny leaves sublime
Transmutes into my dream’s pigmentation
Chlorophyll captures hard radiation
My plumage explodes forth with colors bright
Transmutes into my dream’s pigmentation
In proud defiance of sun's bleaching light
My plumage explodes forth with colors bright
I sprout a thousand flames rose tangerine
In proud defiance of sun's bleaching light
Brush bold orange on the baked desert scene
I sprout a thousand flames rose tangerine
Hundreds of long spines poke out all around
Brush bold orange on the baked desert scene
A sunbaked pile of dead sticks in the ground
3/27/16
For contest: A Pantoum, A Poet's Choice
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Inertia makes a monster of my
Self
I'm insatiable for making a
Progress.
Move, don't just tell yourself
You will.
Set the rules, then transgress.
The rebel inside of you deserves
Respect.
You're what you eat, don't
Lick
Your wounds, turn up the heat
By a caress. Love the self-contained
Monster you possess.
Let it off its leash and you'll feel
How it surges in your breast.
It's no place for old men
There is no case without offence
Commitment without intense
Embrace
Is a senile pretence.
To feign
Amusement shows lack of respect
For your own self.
Be a rebel, even an iron fist in a velvet
Glove is more wanted
Than just a silly old brat.
Awareness of the
Inertia makes a monster of my Self
If it didn't I would be suffocating
In a senile caress of my soul's
Protest.
Life transmutes the mind into
A monster who fights against mind's
Recess.
Mother still round, in love with child anew
Easy to overlook the subtle hints
Of the fracture within, trained eye sees clue
Eighty-two shines your number, bluish tint.
Tearful farewell, fated day has arrived.
Pained mother’s face as we pass through the door
Invisible cord stretch, tense and alive
Umbilical phantom limb evermore.
With tubes, scalpel, we enter sacred space.
The threshold crossed, commitment becomes real
To hold numbers, sounds, instead of your face.
The care within transmutes into sharp steel
Foreshortened, stolen, your time may well be
Yet you touch the hearts of all who touch thee.
Unswallowed lumps of lobster immodest
Crustacean returns to pincers persimmon
Waitress whisk indiscernible clears linen
Custom of one equates her eight hour day
Has It All Paul wipes away gourmet residual
Exhaustion frightened by frothy latte
Fingers in pies finance necromancer denies
Bulging funds fail to complete, coins conflict
Periphery rebuffs, enough is finite, endless leers
Goblet of gluttony grape broth overflow inflicts
Victim of vanished virtue, bon vivant declaration
Transmutes rules, outruns consequence
Guidance glued in buttery dough glides rhetorical
Yacht reined in quay quiver, another arrow for Cupid
Entertainment timed to change with shifting tides
Inglots tossed overboard drown in debauch
Drunk playboy Paul while vulnerable divulges
Disdain for greeds' steep scrag, perpetual pursuit
Outdo, prove prowess for those who never realise
Incongruent grapple for further forgets to cherish
Partners relent, resources force caucus to submit
Patronising Paul procures boardroom obedience
Inundating debt retards bombastic boon reward
Promise of association silences indulgent sin
28th June
Plenty Stimulates
We are he who we seek
Millions of magnetised bliss bubbles burst
Concentrated along our central vein
Rapture beyond measure quenches heart’s thirst
Ignition renews again and again
We would, if we could, transfer this power
Pulsating joyously within our heart
Love drenched soul dances in a bliss shower
God transmutes form, as a work of His art
The trick, oh hermit, is tranquil stillness
By letting go of each ego spawned urge
Thought rested awareness, one with oneness
Celebrates within, thunderous bliss surge
Delusional is imagined bondage
‘Know we are who we seek’ ~ an old adage
14-May-2022
When love magnetism be our heart’s sole psalm ~
Bliss transmutes becoming spacial calm
27-February-2023
Sapphire elixir has formed herself into a beautiful gem,
relieving mental outbursts
repelling negative thought waves that could harm
or inflict self-doubt of any kind
Sapphire properties transmutes negative thoughts
into light and happy ones.
Reaching for a dark navy stone in the form of a
pendant, ring or bracelet
influences the wearer toward happy, light, joyful moods
Sapphire has been revered by the ancients,
since the beginning of the beginning
known by the ones who know the heart's soul the best
Appreciated by those who can heal torn
Chakras, and those who can feel the earth's pain.
A magic elixir in the form of a gem that has the power
to transmute negative thought into positive healing
Healing for you, and healing for the earth.
Sapphire. The magic elixir toward great quantities of joy.
In human form I was born. In human frame I will stay,
but for some other species, life doesn't transpire that way.
A wiggly caterpillar transmutes into a wondrous creature
when it emerges with beautiful wings as its best feature.
I can't begin to imagine myself in an altered physical form
and have my atoms rearranged, deviated from the norm.
I wonder... if I entered another realm, in the spiritual sense,
would I cast shadows or auras of light in bright effulgence?
For the transfigured mind of my heart to be in mutual accord,
first it must surrender the resident ego to receive its reward.
Once I perceived answers to the bounty of questions asked,
could I be transmuted again, or would my future be masked?
Is it likely that my state of 'being' will be something to resist
and query in what physiological sentience could I feasibly exist?
I seek clarification about what happens in life as a transmutation.
Is it even something I could fathom, given a plausible explanation?
I don't wish to become a frog from tadpole, and egg hatched,
because to my human body, I have become rather attached.
First, I'd inquire if there is a reversion process after mutation
that would rescind metamorphosis through a surgical ablation.
What regrets remain to repair,
which requires estranged souls to pair,
that thus so garnering clear sight,
we see all hearts glow in God’s light?
Whence unshackled from our mind tree,
though dwelling in form, soul is free
and as in time, peaks bliss delight,
we see all hearts glow in God’s light.
Transformed by love’s magnetic burn,
soul transmutes in mind-body urn;
when our aura’s hue becomes white,
we see all hearts glow in God’s light.
To reclaim our Self unalloyed,
we choose to plunge into the void,
whereupon from heavenly height,
we see all hearts glow in God’s light.
Once touched by The Holy Spirit
Our mind-body structure transmutes
Bliss symphony from love’s turret
In-pours magnetic attributes
Benign bliss friction rapturous
Pervades our form in loving tease
Delightful joy fortuitous
Grants from fears and desires release
We are still, as voids within fill
Divine currents encasing form
All doings done, as of God’s will
Ensconced in bliss elixir warm
20-November-2021
November or December Quatrain Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
O Fall, let this lore of love
be the last ~
I have long bled black-veiled
roses of the widow’s requiem,
rambling raw rues
from an aching orchard,
stomaching the sorrow,
barely breathing
a woman’s woe
beneath my flesh,
where every thorn
preserves my pulse
from paranormal peril,
and every petal pauses
to placate the pallid palate,
as the leaf of life
sleeps upon my lip,
staining my skin
with sensuous scents,
reminding my soul
that the twin flame keeps
beautifully b l a z i n g ~
like sunsets
amidst Sphinx’s silence,
kissing the heart’s hideaway
as phoenix-rain
transmutes inner-terrors
into a fearless field
of ferocious flowers
savagely stemmed
to the womb of wounds…
Yet, you, my merciful mentor,
O heaven-sent solace,
appeared
like an indomitable spark ~
when
the pain was inevitable,
sleep unattainable,
the sorrow inescapable,
the darkness unbearable.
You did not heal the painful haven ~
but laid skillfully
an Eden of earth-angel ink,
and the taste of your touch
taught my sky to fight the thunder.
I learned to hold on,
still leaning in,
never letting go,
as neither dusk
nor dawn can delude me…
If this is the final metaphor,
when the soul-stars
dream and die,
f a r e w e l l foliage,
remember ~
I burn
I yearn
I turn
sepia hues, autumnal time,
forevermore,
bride ~
eagle-feathered sun…
flames into flames
flesh sizzling flesh
cores consuming cores
pips crinkling into load-shedding
emotions into grains of salt
light across spacetime
heat melting
h e a t
street strength simmering
sweating scalding
sensation has no
crystal drops
rooibos tea faraway
nothing to drink except
our own fluid feuding
hot waves raging roaring
consummating
burning consumables
dissipating veins with
our own veins
burnishing flesh...black dust
past
present
f u t u r e
waves upon waves of
electric light electronic wires
our Light liquidates
iron steel
from infinity
rumbling inferno
black charcoal transmutes
into blackberries
to suck
like nipples nurturing
eradicating fleeing
fumbles
fleecing fear fast
red organs rise
in spirals of voiceless
words fathoming
wrath is
over
or perhaps to come
last few steps of
licking flames orange purple
all is feedback
flammable
surrounded by raven rain
red reducing
red oil
blood blessing blood
in a BloodMoon of vanities
smelling of
vanilla and poppies
waving in war winds
containing OverSouls
overall is overall
forms
fathering
dripping salt
in an unsung faith
unknown spaces seen as Beloved
When I was called little brother,
I smiled.
It meant I have an elder sibling.
One from whom I could learn,
To discern,
Between Light and Dark.
What about the Grey?
Only a few would about the grey;
Enquire.
Even fewer,
Perhaps none
Would even begin to aspire,
Is grey the divider?
What is a divider?
A partition,
A separation,
A barrier.
In essence a carrier,
Of both dark and Light;
Having both thane sight!
The grey is never contrite,
It does and will do on sight!!!
Come with your purported might!
Closer…
Closer…
Unseen seen chaos,
These are my instruments,
Your might;;;
Will be eaten as sacrements.
For continual human growth within,
Mistakes rectified by the elder or role model;
Taught the current crop must be,
Lessons are as seeds;;;
Planted into our mother,
Blending with Earth, Water and Sun,
The seed transmutes and soon the seed has had its fun,
A plant is now the end product.
We humans are also ever transforming,
Perhaps not as apparent as natural beauty forming,
But what is natural beauty?
What is beauty?
Random randominity is beauty natural,
Random beauty is natural randominity,
Natural randominity is random beauty,
Beautiful randominity randoms naturally,
In essence;
Culturally cultural.
Not an over-spill,
Providence shines.
Understanding and comprehension,
In succession,
For thee.
The trick however is to pass on that understanding and comprehension.
But how do you do that?
When most of the generation is tuned to the Playstation!
Violent games evocating the continuation
Of our disgusting violent nation.
Perhaps attempt to not scold or tell;
Allow thane actions to speak wonders,
As an undiscovered well.
Keep the resonance of thane bell,
Consistant.
Perhaps another revolutionary,
Your prodige has to be selectant,
Of his student, his confectionary.
Without this passing down of knowledge,
We all might as well eat the most poisonous berry.
A splotch of orange
spills over East,
mixes with and washes away
night dark and moon yellow.
Golden quiet transmutes
to silver sound, and tousled sleep
awakes to fresh-combed day.
Pulsating rhythm
Fiery beating of drums
Repetitive enchantment
a seducing deep aum
An ancient language
for those who can hear
disestablishing illusion
relinquishing fear
Perception transmutes
in timeless trance
each soul now-imprisoned
within the freedom of dance