Transformers Poems | Examples

Flash Mob Walt Marie

Exploding transformers on the street,
flash mob;

Unable to see they move so fast,
frenzied;

Left licking senses buried in sweat,
spun out;

Synchronized for streamlined destruction  
all night;

City streets cuffed and in their control
‘til dawn.

When I Put My Slipper On

He says, “When I put My Slippers on…”
What he should have said,
“When I put my My Slippers slippers on…”
My oh my, a slippery slope…
The commercial might add:
I wake up on my My Pillow pillow
side, of the sunny, sunny-side of the bed.
Funnier still: my My Transformers transformers
are attacking my My City city - 
what a nightmare!

A Century To the Soup Combined

Eddie currents confused the conduits in this mind
How can the transformers in the brain go not blind
Confusing is the light, direct me as it's straight shined
Hundreds of emotions imprisoned and confined
Thoughts going back to teenage years deeply pined
Worrying about the love effects totally enshrined
Consider this cancer, your thoughts are far too kind 
This melon has been carved deep, right to the rind
Missing all that I've lost, forever rightly defined
Penned for the world to read like riding bare on equine
A century, now I've given the soup all I have mined
Mentored by Sotto, DT, Mo, Anaya, and P. Hind
Mused by Constance, Brandy, Sunshine, Anna, I've refined
Influenced by Gershon, Paula, and Dilly, like whine
Holding fast to FJ, Charles, Eve & Deb my heart relined
My love for you all wide openly is to remind

Flaming Hot Cheeto Apocalypse

screaming wind
crosses wires
transformers boom
sticks in the rain
spewing sparks
hissing 
sizzling
vomiting
smoke and steam
trees topple
creeks overflow
rivers rage
we beg for it
and it comes
atmospheric rivers of it
bomb cyclones of it
avalanches of it
tornadoes of it
acute hemorrhaging 
extreme
as the 9 
and 
the 5
our politics
our culture
flaming hot cheeto
apocalypse
pray for 
the unsheltered
the strays
all victims
caught in the storm

Quirks

Quirks

Lennon and McCartney
Composed a song for harps, 
But neither one was very good
At reading flats and sharps.

DaVinci was a total whiz
at graphic arts and science,
but could he run a marathon,
or wrestle with the giants?

Transformers bring us light,
As Tesla had some genius. 
Yet, he had no business sense,
Thus perished impecunious.

Descartes declared, "I am,"
And Marx united workers,
But when it came to music,
Both of them were shirkers.

Socrates taught others
By making pointed queries.
Although he was illiterate,
We understand his theories.

Lincoln, Ford, and Edison
Are considered rather legend'ry.
But for all of their accomplishments,
They never finished second'ry.

The moral of the story is,
If your marks are wanting,
Do not be dismayed,
It's really not that daunting.

Each soul has its genius.
Each soul has its quirk.
If you follow both of those,
Then your dream can work.

Whats All the Buzz

I thought it might all be in my head. The buzzing at night. The incessant buzzing sound. It was as if bees had settled in my headboard. Was it between my ears. No one talks of such things until one did and then I found out many, many people were hearing the sound. A neighbor posted and asked. Many said they have heard it for years. Plausible explanations - the wind, transformers, aliens, drones, trucks on the highway, angel’s waxing trumpets. Some say they have heard it in other states too. My eyes finally close every night after they blink and check. No monsters under the bed, scratching at the window pane, only a sound that you're afraid, when it is yours alone, that your insane. If I am, then so are they. Answer me, have you ever heard this sound as you settle in for the night and wondered like me. What did you think?!

1/9/2021

When Progress Regresses

Matters little when life like a lifeless leaf in the wind trembles
Surging forth, seeking serenity, summoning common sense
In quarters cut off from conversation and creative communication mumbles
As couples lost in the mendacity miasma boast and coast in notoriety nonsense.

Matters less when fickle fantasy like a nightmare numbs
Reason imprisoned in a zone unzipped from progress
In circumstances and instances that indifference hums
As couples cooped and hooked on catastrophe create chaos and retrogress.

Matters more when sense and its essence like transformers matrimony transfigure
Sanity, supporting insanity and inanity as egos soar to the fore
In debates fed on acrimony and the prospect of an alimony figure
Lures and miscues clues that hurt the matrimony core on its floor.

Matters little when fuss like spittle fumbles and grumbles 
Assuming pantagruelian proportions and portions in misnamed missions
Built on the back of vanity whose futility fumbles and crumbles
When prospects of separation and alienation fuel and fly freak, frenzy frictions.

Attention Please

Please excuse typos, grammar, format errors, choice of words, syntax, tic tacs, tie tacks, big macs, cracker jacks, boring facts, silly tricks, pick-up stix, plots, thoughts, good guys, bad guys, bad girls, good girls, whirly girls, gyros, heroes, heroines, gyrenes, jelly beans,  trampolines, transformers, bun warmers, sailors, tailors, tattoos, old news, old shoes,  pikachus, random clues, bubble gum, bubba gumps, shrimps, chimps,  vamps, tramps, stamps, tramp stamps, dogs, cats, carrots, ferrets, parrots etcetera etcetera etcetera. I am making this stuff up as I go.

Dear Muttley

To my bigger, younger brother...

From our fascination with Maurice Greene
Exactly how many Olympic sprint medals did he win?
To our common love for dogs...Danger, ever on guard!
Hey, remember we promised mom we would...?

The kites we crafted and flew to the wind in August
The tops we spun to the woven string in the dust
To the marbles we shot to score through the hole
And the megacities we built to last in the soil

The Ninja Turtles depicted in drawings out of the sewage
And oh, the toy cars we brought to life in the garage
Long before Transformers became a blockbuster
We knew they could come to life with us as puppet masters

The obsession continues, with Usain Bolt
You’ve now just about got the same built
It’s kinda intimidating now to call you 'Muttley'
I guess we watched too many cartoons growin up…didn’t we?


Eve Roper's When Older Siblings or Younger Step In... - Poetry Contest

Transformers

Where is the transformers 
for the total transformation of this world, 
from its disguise and evilness,
to the nature in which it was meant to be,
the nature of peace, love and joy.

Where is the place for peace,
when the hunger for love is more than the hunger for bread,
when cruel leaders are replaced by cruel leaders,
when poverty and diseases proliferated Africa,
when sin is now regarded as good,
Where is the place for peace.

When is the time for restoration,
if time is spend to look for money instead,
if evil is advancing with time everywhere,
if the time for war haven't known its pinnacle,
if time for peace is smaller than a drop water in a tank,
if yesterday, today and tomorrow are always bringing tears in the eyes of the innocent,
When is the time for restoration,

Where is the transformers 
for the total transformation of this world 
from its disguise and evilness
to the nature in which it was meant to be
the nature of peace, love and joy

Let Towers Make Way For Caves

We live as inhumane, insensitive flesh pieces 
Engage in War to establish Peace 
Launch missiles to crush Gods species 

We know how to fire rockets to kill in bunkers
But fail to save, who after siren, run helter-skelter 
Habitation to Raditation, we are expert transformers
  
And we claim to be advanced, ultra innovative 
Cavemen were better, were more sensitive
Knew how to co-exist sans expansionist motive 

Let concrete towers make way for caves
Let human reside, emanate harmony waves 
Let all live without fear of killer drones 
---------------------------------------------------
Dr Hitendra Mehta, India

Transformers

In a world, not that off our own
The Autobots and Decepticons roam

Advanced engineering and developed mechanics
Soon to appear on our Planet

Unexpected events, an explorers Surprise
To uncover such a momentous prize

In the hands of mankind, a secret so dark
A retrieval mission, In which the Transformes embark

Beneath the ground, a Hidden location
Humans blinded by the fascination

Soon to commence a battle so great
To which war and destruction awaits

Coming To Play

I awoke this morning without a heavy heart
for today is the day,gotta get a quick start.
There will be bats and balls out in the front yard.
There will be battles to win,Transformers,and cars.
We'll have fun and laugh til our stomachs explode.
I'm sure there will be toys left in our commode.

There will be snacks and cookie crumbs all over the place.
We might even have time for a bicycle race!
For today is not just an ordinary day,
for today is the day my son comes to play.
He only gets dad for just a short while,
so we ain't got much time to enjoy our smiles.

Got so much to do to fullfill every wish.
We might go to the lake and catch a few fish.
Then it's time to bathe and read a few books.
We're both getting tired,you can tell by our looks.
Then we fall fast asleep dreaming about our day,
It's always a blessing when my son comes to play.

Princess and Ninja Turtles

A little girl 
Sitting on the floor of her room 
The walls are decorated with princesses, knights, and dragons
The little girl not playing with dolls or ponies 
But playing with boy toys like transformers or ninja turtles.
Her face painted with greens and black paint
Her pink clothes painted the same colors
Her dark brown hair cut short that she did herself.
A mother wanting a girly daughter standing at the door of the room 
Rushing to her daughter to look what she has done. 
Takes the toys away from the little 5 year old girl
Yelling at the child 
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE THESE TOYS ARE NOT YOURS. YOUR A GIRL YOU PLAY WITH DOLLS"
The child just looked up at her mother and smiled "Momma, its okay to be different."

Wounded

Come and gone like small twister
like the cloud of debris he’s left.
Echoes of Charlie Brown’s buddy Pigpen
blow through the cobwebs in memory.
Left over coffee cups replacing
Transformers still dumped in the attic.
Reams of knarley skateboards, wheel-less,
lay in piles like so much unburnable refuse.
The obligatory hugs and peck, over and done 
the never paid chauffeur collapses…

Ah, to have him always near,
So, each kiss was not quite so dear. 
The last fair maid on parade has wandered across
the home front, wondering about her predecessor, 
still tacked with magnets to the fridge,
still part of my heart and his…

Sons…they say, do not cause such angst.
Couldn’t prove it by this mother.
This maternal blimp of unused helium
was not permitted a girl child.
One did come and fleetingly leave before formed. 
We’ll never know the sweetness of her.

Let the image of his manly self disperse, this son..
into the mist as his Father’s has…
to be remembered again, only in times of need, his need,
for to do anything else, would be to rub salt
in an open wound.

Poet: D. Guzzi
*the day after Christmas

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