Transfiguring Poems

Easter

Fear of damnation
may keep some
on the path of Straight
And Narrow...but only love
leads to Father’s door and
welcome -- 

the convict forced to obey 
rules of confinement, spirit’s
attempt at Heart’s realignment

earth is a humane  
prison – isolated, in a galaxy
of limitless, greater fascinating
mystery -- truth~ our behavior
manifests as distance --  

we have confined
ourselves in immeasurable ways; 

Divine Connection why Christ
preached Love (above all
else) – saw death as salvation,

Evil, as surface preservation

and Eternal Life of health and Joy 
(Son Relationship)

only after the Soul’s 

Transfiguring Resurrection!

Rain

it feels foolish
these rain prayers
deeply pondered
stranded in our shared heat
is there some unimaginable space
                          where prayers drift to?
free from time, reclusive 

rain wishing
its pulsating pop that jumps up from pavement
a life force
puddling weeds from cracks
washing all, slick and sloppy

rain that settles a hot vacuum cooler
transfiguring gardens, a floral fanfare
rambunctious ramble
with carved trumpets of open orange lilies 

in a retiring heat
we watch-wait for dark clouds in pinball collision 
a meditation on living
for rain to bud the morrow, green
in a kettle drum beating

Lake

Depression, like the pits and ditches of my heart,
With clear water, like that of blood, does life impart;
Adorning the environs like valued jewels,
Dear lake, how clearly clean cool water in you pools...!

Treasures of art, architecture and ancient tales,
Cultural congruence is hidden in your veils;
My valor, values, and vibrant vivacity,
Draw their vitality from your mortality...!

Within your chilly waters I cheerfully play,
Like an elephant or hippopotamus stay;
Within your womb are ponds, streams, springs and glacial mass,
Serenity, calmness, and composure en-mass...!

I swim, row boat, aqua cycle, and kayaking,
I refresh my bored life with soul-skiing, sailing;
You bring within me optimism, love for nature,
Capable, confident, and love for each creature...!

How I wish to visit countries highest in lakes!
I desire to relish these and forget my aches;
Tracing, transfiguring, and transforming, our drives,
O lake! Perpetually you prosper our lives...!!!

16 March 2023 
Writing Challenge - 'L' Words - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Rhymes Checked At: Rhymezone.
Syllables Checked At: Howmanysyllables.

Movement

MOVEMENT
interwoven
with
the
   sublime
 shaped
&uncovered
 structures
of
simplistic
  formations

a contrast
offered
in complexity.
of enduring 
 concern
unearthed
 element
of contemporary
 reflections

an
 invisible
resonance
emerges
in disparate
imagination
&
transfiguring
 synthesis
of the
 ironic
  juxtaposed
in
 chasm
of contradiction
discerned
& liberated
with
 sense
  of
the
sublime

NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE   using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand

Monk Mode

Nonchalance admits neither guilt nor fear,
irrespective of thoughts that appear,
recognising they’re ego spawned,
misaligned from love divine,
thus of no consequence 
as far as soul goes,
so presence yawns
and moves on,
into
light.

Love
is all
that’s real,
being the pulse
of God’s energy,
both within and around,
as it’s pulsations resound,
transmuting animal to man;
transfiguring all as living light,
no sooner we exit hypnotic trance.

02-May-2022

Winter Wonders

Snowflakes taking rebirths; transforming into flimsy shapes,
Melting then, commemorating momentary landscapes...

Flying high; skating, skiing, tough throw of stony snowballs; 
One never gets hurt, yet, as though bathing in feather-falls...

Inner warmth and outer chill; frozen nights and melting days,
Costume changing nature's tentative transfiguring ways...

Surprise-filled advent of friends, like whimsical rain-drizzles,
Snow bunting, geese, waxwing, grosbeak and owls play in mizzles...

Midst shorter days and longer nights, indoor games go endless,
Though trees and plants stop growing, vegetables fill countless...

Flocks of migratory birds flying like floral designs,  
Snow foxes and hares fashion-parading in rare sun-shines...

Each scene of winter is, indeed, like heavenly wonder,
Missing these might be the most monstrous of human blunder...!


12 January 2022 
Winter Wonders Within Nature Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: M. L. Kiser

Thoughts of My Imagination-

I thought of my imagination
Imagining
 formerly fancy fiction fantasizing 
Reality really and so I screamed
Those the thought of imagination 
Is this that aliveness 
Legally I looked for my mind 
Towards missing back into my memories 
Transfiguring wandering wondering 
I am shown by my righteous right behind 
Ah! distinctively I was followed following the other kind 
And disbelief imagine
Those my thoughts of my imagination

5/30/20
Written by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021

Natured By

The swelling and sailing moon,
reflection mirrored in still water opportune.
That transfiguring element of rising lunatic,
by heaven’s circuit of stars so quick.
Gentle light beyond all comprehension,
sacred dwelling in celestial ascension. 
Gathered gentle hues in playful gaze,
more faint stars appear in this haze.
The muse of deep feelings curates this stream,
provoking that fondly image seem.
Endeavors from the echo of inward light,
creating the path of tender bright.
Natural instinct to fine discern,
memories that needed not to learn.
Necessities to proceed and receive,
the soul to abate compassion believe.
The state in tempted perfect still,
and guardian of all completeness to fill.
Reawaken from sleep and forgetting,
souls that rise within that splendid setting.
Perpetual benediction through mirrored ember,
natures way of affections to remember.

Transfiguration

This is the day that flattened the city:
  shock wave, clothes burnt off;
“This is what they have done, tell everyone.”
Radiation penetrating into sickness
     > sterility.
That was the day when all was laid waste.

This is the day they stood up on the mount:
  awed, as His clothes shone.
“This is my beloved Son, listen to him.”
Radiance transfiguring, three with One worshipped
     > fruitfully.
That was the day which uplifted mankind.

Now is the time for faith to hold on:
  declared to be heard;
“This is the light of the world, behold Him.”
Vesture of truth shining, penetrates, conceiving
     > fertility.
Now is the time for peace rising.

Spring

As the bitter, piercing cold flees north, as the opaquely white snow makes an elaborate stratagem, a tortuous plan to revitalize next year, the viridescent grass begins to flourish and prosper, bringing an end to the biting winter. The juniper green leaves on trees begin to reinstall on the once dismal branches and the hibernating ophidians start to abandon their balmy, sheltered dens, and immerse themselves in the Sun's ultraviolet radiation and rejuvenating heat. The chirpy, sprightly birds perch themselves on the limbs of trees and ebulliently carol together and rejoice, for wintertime has vacated and the Sun has emerged from the billows of clouds. The cunning squirrels depart from their shelter, burdened with acorns. They scamper down the bark of trees and gleefully frolic and play in the grassy taigas of Siberia. The ravishing daisies begin to blossom, flaunting with their milky white petals and canary yellow pollen. As these plants and animals benefit from their transfiguring environment, gaiety and jollity radiates, for the somber subdued season has dematerialized and withdrawn from this ever-changing landscape.

From Birth To Hearse

From Birth to Hearse


‘Tis said that we are sinners - all
before we ever rise - we fall.
Is there no way to beat the curse
that follows us - from birth - to hearse?

For we are bathed in living’s dreams
darkened halls with  violet themes,
the orange maw of changelings hue
transfiguring through greens – to blue,

windblown brushstroke-fashioned clouds
move about in eerie shrouds
opalescent shifting reds
glistening through tartan threads.

Witness, as in the timeless nest,
the crimson golds of sunrise – set,
cling to horizon’s blue-edged lie
that colors – separate - the sky.

Distorted by the muted browns
the shifting dunes of opal gowns
flowing in chimeral white
across the darkened stage - of sight.

‘Tis said we are and will be dust
colors changed by living’s touch,
beauty that reversed the curse
that follows us - from birth – to hearse.



8/1/2014
For Charlotte Puddifoot
Vibrant Verse 2 poetry contest

Night Muse

Tonight I call
a certain woman
who spreads her scent
of fragrant dianthus
into my night
so silently...

The way she
speaks my name
almost mocking me
making gentle fun...

Because of her
modest style of love
I look to her
my evening star
behind orange clouds
over ocean horizon...

She possesses
the highest summit
of my heart
she the poetess
the moon goddess
transfiguring kaleidoscope
in sunset towards the west...

Truth

TRUTH


Truth:

    Transcendental

                      Reality

                       Universally 
                            
                          Transfiguring
                                              
                                    Humanity!


© Demetrios Trifiatis
     06 JUNE 2013

Butterfly

The beautiful Alexandra butterfly
It beautifies its native New Guinea when it will fly
But there is different type of butterfly  
That is even bigger and more amazing as it transverses the azure sky

That butterfly has transfiguring symbols on its wings
As colorful and enchanting as sonnet of hues that angel sings
He is more graceful then king of kings
His powerful exuberance cannot be chained by chains or rings

He is the Extended Soul
That edge of abyss has under control
I hope one day on Earth his seed will fall
To free us all

For when he drops the seed of dreams
The people will fly without wings to spiritual extremes 
The sleeping knights will awake for them new world beseems 
The shot out soul much greater then prettiest sun beams

The Poet

The poetry lies
on my tongue and nail beds,
transfiguring from this
nutshell I own,
and am
the poet,
it seems.

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