Transitional Poems - Poems about Transitional

Trump, The Transitional President I looked at the 2025 official portrait of Donald Trump and thought about Mount Rushmore and how Borglum would have sculptured the rock to include the Transitional President into the ‘Shrine of Democracy’ of nation builders, passing the torch from one generation to another. “Donald Trump (1946–): 45th. & 47th. President; ‘Rebirth of a Nation.’” ...

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winter's ending; spring is pending. cool and pleasing but so fleeting. sun beams greeting cool breeze soothing spring hue winning flowers springing sweet birds singing. all those waiting, for spring's coming, will be humming. _________ April.3.2023 ~ Placed Second~ Brian Strand Premiere. No 1205 Poetry Contest...

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a youth that sees a being of height to be an idol, too innocent to realise the turbulence to come. with rebellion a foe is found, at heads over trivial things, spoken speech cannot be refunded, a phase it's claimed, but a reflection reminds, traits of disagreement to familiar to say, a memory of a life before lessons breeds fear in the knowing, sometimes guidance...

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What gets possibly gained from poetic encounters? A friendship sets sail though mast’s shadows can’t merge more than sheets in the wind that two sailors might set in defiance of oceans, whose trembling waves surf on their opposite shores? Is it likely ship’s rhythm survives breeze filled waters, a leaning, you recognize, says what to purge? You still trust in a...

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"As I leave this compound body of flesh and blood I will know it to be a transitory illusion." Could transitory embodied illusions become mindbody gateways toward transitional systemic illumination? Could hybrid mind/bodies, sacred/secularized thoughts, spiritual/naturalized neurological feelings of attachment to harmonic self/other resonance ego/eco-perpetuating inside/outside climates of peace restoring Earth Justice CoAttachment also become CoOperative sensory experience of Integrity's Universal Promise? Could climax of death's Yang loss also predict Yin's deeply seeded memory of passionate...

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the seasons always treated him with all kinds of rain shine and storms but he was never the fall guy and enjoyed deviating from dogma and norms with fresh springs in his step he rebelled as if there was no future tomorrow which brought him satisfaction and joy but also fierce rejection and sorrow summer brought heated adjustment...

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a person aged from 13 to 19 years. I am, no longer twelve adolescence I am youth Adolescence and I am in a transitional stage I am a young person Why? Is everyone always telling me what to do I'm a minor Adolescence and I am in a transitional stage Nothing more finer I'm thirteen This world so mean I have a mind Stop hovering over me...

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Transitional Tears A r d u o u s day, both sunny and gloomy. the payment sought — a trundle of great worth. My tender eyes in t r a n s i t i o n a l tears — the dew of pink and blue as I give b i r t h. 6/7/2018...

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Creativity opens doors to learning to read our own, and others’, compelling literacy, beautiful truths. We are not an isolated supreme species creating nihilism, self-serving ego hedonists; or, rather, we are, but within an open sesame systemic potential for also becoming more grace-filled cooperative, endo with ecto symbiotic evolutionaries learning to read nature’s re-ligioning scriptures, color-chemistry dialects, to hear Earth’s celebratory and awe-inspiring climatic voices, warning and...

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Who do we invite this me to be today, here and now planning for our next arising era toward death's patient resolution, graceful resonance? Is there some supermagical meaning in more recent unfortunate events capable of reading mystical tea leaves? the web of palms rooted in life's soul of Time? in some way that would tip us toward discarding deeply etched memories of...

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vital impulse and I climb into my grey Ford I hold the steering wheel not to hit the car instinctively I twist on the left on the right should not I die because I want to get off After your breasts ... after I hear Bach!...

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The house does not hide Crying out in different ways Shards fly with wings of their own I see the world outside At the end of the dimly lit corridor There are 10 doors to my left 10 doors to my right They command me to enter Lights flicker animatedly My eyes move furtively The soles grow watery Mad wind in my hair Nerves in the opaque...

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Pathways have no boundaries, thinker was without a thought. Hostile mind refuses to believe truth was missing from life. From depth to depth measurement had failed. God does not know his creation now. Foolish flesh now burns in thudding bangs of dry butter. I want you to touch the opaque eyes of eternity. In captivity of sighs and groans. You ought to understand who...

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Amongst the fractured,not yet broken I move amidst the homeless,tokens our countries hidden and forgotten circumstance, of a life they're fightin' Backpack and sleeping bag in tow I go,to know,this growing show cardboard cover's,plastic liner's discarded mattress make's it finer there is no breakfast,lunch or dinner any meal,makes you feel,like a winner dinner roll's,vienna sausage gourmet treat for those held hostage by their account,misfortune happen's but,what in our...

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