Short Shifters Poems

Psuedo shape shifters
Above beyond reflection
Births of paradox...

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clouds are moving art
shapes shift on a sky canvas
my hands are too slow...

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SATURDAY
The 10th of April
the sun rose
yawning
shadows stretched
as blinking winds moaned.
Night shifters scurried home
day shifters chirped.
A tired moon napped
in an evergreen.


John G. Lawless
©4/10/2021...

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Star to let
to a cat lover
and friend of

less perfect dahlias,
to putter-outers of
unwashed milk bottles;

to curtain shifters
and spectacle sinkers,
to all those gods

in Victoria`s long terraces
all waiting for
the flat upstairs....

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Observe and see
This world truly:


What do you see?
Change marks clearly


And what of dreams?
That plot and scheme


Who is better?
That go-getter!


Does style matter?
Feel knows better


Is fast smarter?
Change breaks clusters


Shape-shifters jerk
The true man works


Live each day well
Sine-qua-non tells




Leon Enriquez
19 June 2015
Singapore...

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I was a nervous young fawn
Tasting sweet April grass in a lovely meadow
Sensing danger, realizing wolves were surrounding me
Bam!

I had shapeshifted into one of them.
Their alpha was sharp, he sensed I was still a deer.
He urged them to close in.
Wham!

I am now an eagle,
soaring high above the pack, out of reach
Even their alpha looks confused
I do not think they understand shape shifters....

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Mystic River
lazy mists dawdle
 in sinuous rivulets ~
   fog surfs in deep dales

river of white clouds
 threads through alleys of tall pines ~
  fog garden slow dance

curly silver mists
 pale kisses on riverbanks ~
  swirling shape-shifters

flat bottomed clouds float
 wispy fogs tickle thunder ~
 joy ride for cloud ships

mystic tule songs
 gypsy brumes on evergreens ~
  forest singalong...

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Blow down the snozzle
this windy wild world
is nowt but a hornswoggle.

Giddy are the blue birds
in head and heart,
blithered are the bush-beating
snit-shifters.

A good day to die and live again,
a day for tripping a bright bombastic.
A yet better day
for some nonsensical boggle
that wags words in a
beery muddle.

Fluffy are the puffy footloose
that skip well over a plushy clover,
great the laughter of children
that dance in the minding eye
of an everlasting God today....

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