Long Metamorphosis Poems
Long Metamorphosis Poems. Below are the most popular long Metamorphosis by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Metamorphosis poems by poem length and keyword.
For the maneuvered inducement of compulsive being,
the transmuting tenet of uniqueness,
the personified indented identity,
changes in the self-devised palette of color mélange,
while the conjured chameleon furtively cocooned
paints the shifting façade of deceptiion.
In the ostensible enactment of life’s amazing drama,
performance perfected in one-act play,
and with the obsession of passion ostensible,
gilding the consequence crafted by metamorphic alchemy,
the surreptitious shift from one actor to another,
is an axiomatic designed drive.
Out of the limelight, the clandestine colors fade
on the visage of the virtual makeup,
the pallid original face morphs mystically into
the veracity mirror of fragile actuality,
reflecting the real rendering of shape rinsed with primal hue
of the unaltered distinctive disposition it embodied once.
The spasm of contrived perception splits the mirror,
the shapeless shards of shattered pretence
scatter as discarded debris abandoned.
Metamorphosis creates the deluding creature,
an alien in its own transformed domain,
completes the contrasting paradigm of illusive shape shift.
Disarrayed sands
dislodged from domain
timeless,
slipped by chaotic instants,
settle ceaselessly
bemused
on stratified shelf
of languid life
disorganized
in moments moving,
dismantled
with dispersed dust
of petrified perturbation,
truth of trust
suffused with sanguinity,
resting on ruffled ripples
of disordered discontent
oscillates…
In bewildered efflux
of delinquent dismay
exhilaration transmutes
tousled,
mystifying alchemy
of metamorphosis
reveals real pretense
of traumatic transmutation
tormenting…
Disorderly squall
swirls sweeping depression
through the void
of despondent whirlpool,
the mangled mind
drowns
in distraught nothingness
disheveled,
splinters the leitmotif
of ethereal emotions
embedded,
confounded cascade
of consternation
carries them away,
nonchalant…
Sandcastles
on shriveled shore
of yearning
tumbles down
in confused clutter
of disorientated debris,
in divesting mayhem
psyche rises
revived,
shape-shifted
in lattice of time,
discovers in an instant
enthralled,
the covert flute
of sensuous symphony
play the music
of ecstatic self
entranced,
convivial concerto
reverberates
the last refrain
of melodic memory,
euphoric epithet
of transcendent essence,
eternal…
Line of Inquiry:
"a heartbeat pulsating as living light
free from each and every limitation
I Am that dwelling in unbound delight
the source wherefrom arises creation"
A soul of purest essence
an eternal consciousness
I am ultimate truth
rivers of justice run through
I am an ongoing metamorphosis
becoming a butterfly
every moment
I hold on, but don't cling
laugh, cry and sing
Wrongly downtrodden,
A sheep coated in fake black paint
They forgot to use a permanent
marker
I persist, resist, real and really transparent
Workable, reasonable - a changing wind
who listens to the other side
then will ride off into
everything
Feel the feather that tickles your awareness
with fairness. It's only me you've met
and you wont forget
Larvae of certain Butterflies
exhibiting a real surprise :
eating only mulberry leaves ,
though it is too hard to believe !
Larvae silkworms , that special !
Mulberry trees truly crucial
in their typical life cycle,
necessarily means own style.
Larval stage is caterpillar
chewing leaves, so peculiar !
Metamorphosis on next step
butterfly taking its nice shape !
All butterflies follow this norm.
to attain its full mature form,
chewing leaves as caterpillar
but butterfly sipping nectar.
This is the natural story
but for silk worm category
Mulberry leaves : only selection
They were left no other option.
My uncanny body is a labyrinth, a corpse flower, my passions are dying!
I am running towards a mad fire, a beggar is sucking my mind.
Stealing my voice (My blessed fate is silent!)
He and I in the mirrors, what remains of us…
I am strangling my God!
A greasy noose tight around His throat,
A rotten chair at the end of a loathsome corridor, typhus, bacteria…
A giant magnifying glass at my temple and a matryoshka…
In our tongue, the lament is heavy…
The old man holding the world…
In his hat, a black leech, the white rabbit is the sky;
His ear is severed.
The black box, all passengers missing and lost.
A metal room in the missing person ads…
The time of misty continents.
I passed through the bandaged passage, the Ferris wheel and the carousel…
A childhood I do not recognize, lines on its feet, a red corset on its waist, stitch marks on its chest…
The age of innocence explodes in the mouth of a black slave!
Embargo, monarchy, war, famine! (Never will abundance arrive!)
Our women...
Shadows in their hair and tuberculosis on their lips…
Snow made of mercury on their backs, anarchy descending from their hands
People are witnesses to the apple, the puberty of Eve,
Narcissus on Bosch’s wall, Caravaggio descending to hell,
That terrible torture, anima…
Jesus wept for wounded souls and placed a narcissus on his head, light, red blood cell, metamorphosis
I broke the wine of Cem, Shakespeare drank a goblet of hemlock,
Lear lost his mind
The Sphinx, the dragon of a black night, offered death to man
History is bleeding with a sin born of torment!
Ghoulish shadow
macabre evening
eerie footfall
metamorphosis
hourglass swallows
collage
roseate rubicund
orange citrus
gold simoleon
tincture berserk
hover
wolfram wainscot
symmetry saturated
pigment pabulum
conspirator
mercurial monkeyshine
amorphous antics
sphinxlike skulk
amid clandestine
nocturnal nascent
twilight threshold
of
opaque canopy
weird whisper
jaded jabberwocky
jitters
flamboyant fairy
figurine
butterfly bounce
damp dimension
perfunctory paradigm
perilous
die-stamp subterfuge
teether
hazardous lingering
ointment fly
foggy flit
dusted
dousing soiled
signage
terse augury
of
alarm bell
behemoth boom
sanitised steel
enwreathes
aghast alien
caper squall
of
invisible inchoate
mordant malarky
furtive squeak
from
rusty dribble
faucet leak
smothered feline
whine
hair-raising hunch
blackened envelope
contortion
brume brickyards
death discotheque
devilish divas
funnel “fun”dament
whilst
trumpet blasting
trenchant tessitura
abrasive tin’s
gusty shrill
rasp ricochet
beneath
moon mirror
roquefort cheese
projects
apparitional squint
ominous omnibus
edition
obfuscate oddment
omniscience onomatopoeia
eldritch
One thing about our morning walks on which we both agree…
is that we never know with each new day…
the wonders we might see:
As we finished our walk the other day…
who should we happen to meet…
but a solitary worm…inching his way across the street.
Inchworms are ingeniously created…they don’t have ears.
They use the hairs on their long and slender bodies to hear…
It’s interesting how their bodies are equipped with legs
but only in the front…and only in the rear.
In order to move …their front legs hold a spot…
they hold on tight and strong…
and by moving their back legs to meet their front…is how they inch along.
We wondered as we watched this worm inch his way across the street
how this unique insect came to be…
and how our two species…approach the world so differently.
And we wondered if the inchworm…like all of nature…
by her actions is trying to reach us…
Perhaps that tiny inchworm…has lessons she’s trying to teach us.
An inchworm must be content with the way he is created…
he must be determined…resilient and strong…
And the front of his body must be patient…
as it waits for the back side to come along.
An inchworm cannot be in a hurry…as she moves by one inch slides…
she has to learn to take things slow…and do her best to enjoy the ride.
I imagine if we can learn from the inchworm to slow down and be patient…
It will help us in life to find our bliss….
and when we do we’ll have this tiny worm to thank…
as together we inch our way toward metamorphosis.
We recently purchased and planted milkweed…not only is it pleasing to the eye
but we had the intention, with the milkweed, of attracting monarch butterflies.
We planted them in our back yard because we didn’t want to miss
one day, one moment…once stage…of their metamorphosis.
There is nothing more beautiful in nature than to see with our own eyes
The transformation from egg, to caterpillar to chrysalis…and finally butterfly.
As we watched this wonder of nature…from our front row, ringside view…
we couldn’t help thinking about our own children…and our grandchildren too.
From inside the womb, where they were lovingly carried until they saw the light…
to when they crawled around like caterpillars…eating everything in sight.
From the chrysalis stage they exited grown up and mature…all in the blink of an eye…
to when they finally spread their wings and they began to fly.
Our children and grandchildren went through their own metamorphosis…
and now that they are grown
we see each has developed a unique personality…and a beauty all their own….
Every stage was vital as they transformed right before our eyes…
something they share in common…with the monarch butterflies.
An evil warlock changed my vicissitudes on this horrible mean day.
It only took seconds, but he took all my power and confidence away.
I went from a woman to a purple dragon with red stripes you see.
He was in cahoots with an ogre who has always hated little ole me.
They transmuted me with abnormally joyful anticipation and jubilation.
I heard them cackling like old hen women, in fantastical celebration.
I was angry as hops, ready to do whatever damage I could do.
But they also gave me a loving heart, before they were through.
No matter how mean they were, I had to smile and be nice.
It was not easy for me to hate them, or fill my heart with ice.
I can do it Trixie yelled, ready to be whoever I wanted her to be.
She said we should throw the word vicissitudes back to Tennessee.
So Hank, this poem is for you, since you gave me that word.
I have written this poem twice, which was insanely absurd.
But the first time it disappeared from my computer, making me mad.
But thanks to this metamorphosis, I can neither get even or bad.
tactic twain trudging
eerie earth moaning
gaunt goddesses grooving
per punctured feelings
on hoisted hankerings
seeped'n salient scrunchies
then mystic metamorphosis
by bully bewitched
callous crest castrating
foil fates fostering:
fighting fortune furiously
nocturnal nature spilled
callous chaos's combustion
war met leisure.
20:01:08:10:08
~Note~ Inspired by Rosalind, Celia and Touchstone's arguments about Fortune and Nature as goddesses. I thereby present a fight between them. They'll keep contending though. No one to lose to the other.
From William Shakespeare's "As You like It".