Long Transmogrify Poems
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She turned into a palatial palace.
Unsure how herself, but it happened.
One day she was a glorious cottonwood tree.
With sparkling shiny reversible silver and green leaves.
Maybe it was because she had never been a city?
But somehow during the evening she began to transmogrify.
Now she is a city, wearing apartments, skyscrapers and sidewalks.
She likes this too, not as well, but she finds something good about it.
I like changing her one of the goddesses said.
She is a light in the forest, always looking for the good.
And finding it too! Said another goddess.
Shall we keep transforming her?
I do not see why we would stop.
Some wanted to be tigers. The angels talked a few out of it,
Two were led away, because they had a ridiculously silly hissy fit.
Six were given tiger-status, and sent to an Indian village.
I hoped they would be safe if guerillas came to plunder and pillage.
My best friend chose lion, and was soon waving a hearty, healthy good bye
From the Kenya-bound transporter, traveling south west in the night sky.
Not extremely hopeful, I flipped through the reincarnation cards selected for me,
I could be a rooster, a mushroom, an eagle, a snake, or a hickory tree.
Mazie, my spirit guide, was at the end of her rope. She said that is enough.
She got rather nasty, her wings looked matted and her speech was mean and gruff.
A changeling? I asked her in a hopeful little teasing way, my voice pretty level.
Praying she would not throw me in the fire slide that led to that crafty devil.
A changeling can reincarnate in one form, but can change earth bodies as needed.
A changeling can shape-shift, without sage, opium or thyme newly-seeded.
A changeling does not get bored with the same body every single earth day.
A changeling makes his own rules, and can fly or swim good-heartedly away.
I was an oak tree for ten years, spying on the neighbors from my seat way up high.
Then I decided to become their puppy, with one loud happy transmogrify.
I was going to be an owl next, but I forgot one important rule in heaven.
A puppy, no matter what breed, or how happy, rarely lives past the earth age of seven.
So here I am, figuring it out all over again. Next time as a porpoise, I will be needing a fin.
The prince was fearful when he saw the pretty faerie headed his way.
He held up his arm indicating that was close enough.
She was transfixed by his stare, so she kept flying.
Seriously! He croaked, please give me six feet.
She sat down, and he relaxed a bit.
I am here to transmogrify you back, she told him.
He had been afraid of that. Dreading the day.
Nothing had been worse than paying all the bills in the palace.
Please don’t, he implored her.
I love it here. I can swim all day, and the flies are tasty.
His huge tongue sizzled out and snatched one.
YUM!
But the king needs you, she told him.
He is lonely.
There are other accountants, he told her.
Please tell him you could not find this one.
She suspected there was another reason.
What about your wife? She misses you.
She was never kind to me, he argued. She put me down.
She made fun of me in front of my children.
She-Ma appeared in the midst of an argument we were having.
A bunch of unruly rednecks and me; and I am afraid I was losing.
With her ribbon like hair, and her firm determined mouth, she materialized.
A shock to them, but not to me; I recognized my guardian angel.
Pirate Angel I secretly called her; for she looked like one
With her fluffy white wings and purple pirate captain’s coat
Belted with a golden snap belt that said she meant business.
I heard a scream; she must have started using her golden sword.
Fine by me; I was already running. It was evening. I needed to get away.
I was not worried about my guardian angel with her sunshine orb.
She glowed, with an aura of rainbow colors; icicles dripping from her hem.
A superhuman irony - warm and toasty toward me, freezing them now.
I did not have to turn. I knew they were each in a rainbow bubble.
Thinking about what they had done; and were about to do.
If there is one thing She-Ma does; it is this. Making the perpetrators think.
I am so grateful for her long sleek magic fingers,
and her ability to transmogrify.
They were soon walking up the garbage can, eager to devour the garbage.
Four rapist thugs who were no longer humans, but more aptly roaches.
When she does this to them I know they were truly bad. It is rare.
I thank God that Pirate Angel is my own personal body guard.
Whizzlebuggled by the determined initiating committee
I ran screaming toward the ends of the river
Seeking asylum from the flock of the Status Quo of the Sixth Order
A robin flying overhead gave me a giggleberry feeling.
I deliberated starting my own murder of crows, only we would
name it a murder of peacocks, and I would turn into a male
as they are the extravagant ones.
A school of dippenlily fish offered me their assistance.
I did not take them up on it for my precognition kicked in
and I realized they had the same agenda as an army of
White Supremists.
So here I am, debating how to go about starting my
family, team or murder of peacocks.
First I have to transmogrify into a male
for the females are so damned plain.
Fire woman danced wildly, her flames shot skyward.
Lone wolf hunkered down in deep shadows
Popping and kicking, she rose higher than ever
Illuminating the woods in a ultra-luminous glow
Wolf’s yellow eyes stared at Fire woman.
She was powerfully glorious, she owned the woods.
Her flames shot up, disappearing into the cosmos.
The stars accepted them gladly on this cool October eve.
Fire woman laughed with an insanely uninhibited laugh.
Lone wolf watched, wishing she would incarnate into a She-Wolf.
Her self-confidence brought beauty to the forest tonight.
Her flames rose higher, appearing as glowing orange fireflies.
The wind turned her flames in a new direction, pointing to Wolf Man.
Fire woman and wolf were immediately more aware.
Their senses on fire now, anticipating something dangerously exciting.
If only I could transmogrify, Fire woman thought with longing.
Within the hour she had incarnated into a magnificent she wolf.
Lone wolf met her at the top of the hill where they howled at the moon.
We tiptoe past her, the violets said. She does not like our colors.
They are every hue of violet, purple, and a few are azure blue.
But you are beautiful, I assure them. They scoff at my innocence.
You are naïve’ they tell me, but we like you anyway.
She would transmogrify us into pink tulips or Pepto Bismol roses.
I laugh at the thought, realizing I have never seen violets like that.
We kid you not, they tell me. When you meet her, do not make eye contact.
How can I meet her without it? I ask.
They have no answer, for they are posies, not politicians.
They want to be cagey and maniacal, but what flowers are?
I tiptoe past them over the hill where Bubblegum Queen waits.
She is devouring petals from a rose bush when I arrive.
Who do you think you are? She asks me with an air of rudeness.
I am shocked, because I was about to comment on her beauty.
She has pink hair, pink skin, pink lips, and beautiful blue eyes.
But her manner is cold and heartless with a twang of meanness.
Suddenly I remember that outside beauty means nothing.
Weird that I have to relearn this lesson almost every time.
I guess society has done a job on me with their glossy magazines.
I am nobody I tell her. She gives me an arrogant half nod.
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!
She split her perspective in half
Because she needed to see the landscape from both directions
She could transmogrify like this when she was in a meditative state
It is not like one of her selves was dominant.
Both sides felt the cool water, both sides stilled their minds
Living their truth, they let morning fold in her own way
A hawk’s shriek disturbed nothing
They allowed it into their meditation
A fish flipped out of the water landing hard
This too was incorporated, as they went deeper and deeper
She saw herself in her dream state
She was running frantically which was normal
A shadow passed over her; she resisted the urge to look
It was a gorgeous meditation,
Stilling her heart, calming her
She loved the feel of the lake, so nurturing
She opened her eyes slowly
Not wanting to alarm her other self.
They merged gently and flew back into the forest
Glad to be a butterfly again.
The bride ran from the unconsummated ceremony weeping.
The best man had handed her a note; the groom was not coming.
He couldn’t have told her before the guests arrived?
Before she put on her gown and veil?
Before her daddy walked her down the aisle?
A track star, she was faster than anyone else.
She ran until she could run no further.
Her faerie godmother followed her.
What can I do? What can I do?
Transmogrify me, the bride said.
Turn me into something else.
I can never face them again.
The faerie godmother waved her wand.
A gorgeous tree developed out of the bride’s essence.
The faerie godmother waited for further instructions
But a tree cannot talk.