Transmogrify Poems | Examples

honey bee house

Would you be willing to have a honey bee house?
My cousin said yes to this.
bees could choose a plethora of flowers in her yard
Acres of flowers
she has only seen one honey bee near them
But many yellow and black bumblebees
Are the bumblebees bullies? Thugs?
The honeybees stay close to their bee house
It is curious
I will transmogrify into a bee and find out

the real runaway bride

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.

I am Me

Wailing for her demon lover, she knows nothing about these woods
Daring the devil to snatch her from clutches of midnight she howls truth
Wolves answer her with appreciative baying of their own.
Was she a she-wolf, a werewolf or a gray wolf? She laughed at herself.

The shadows of the night danced like furious fodder around her
Was she an empath? A wife or a wild woman who can transmogrify?
Maybe a touch of all three; a Gemini, which explains her a bit.
A gray entity was heading her way, but it was thwarted by the night sky.

She had a knack for finding the most grotesque and turning them.
Their evil into sand, their inspirations into aspirations.
Wild knows wild.
Her daddy said that about her when she was eight.

She put her arms out and twirled her essence into the path of a young girl.
There were snickers and dashes in the bits of the bush shadows now.
I am me, she said; relieved.
Eager to be….herself.

Getting a Look At the Decanter

sticky warm sanguine blood
reposing in Dracula’s crystal decanter
his bride terrified to ask whose it is
her parents have been missing for a week
his black wolf howls his displeasure when she gets close to the table
she scurries away, but not before seeing two black spiders
he always promised to transmogrify them into creatures
if they did not stop interfering
she goes to bed that night with a sad heart

Lets Transform Her Again

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.

The Transmogrifying Leopard

Turquoise circus leopard could transmogrify when he took a notion.
Appearing as a shark, whale, or clown fish, swimming inside an ocean.
When he reappeared as a leopard he often retained his blue color.
He’s an embarrassment said his sister, his aunt and his brother.

But he is also beautiful, argued his father, and his sixth-grade teacher.
He is way too high-spirited and spiritual, argued the Baptist preacher.
In a few years, turquoise circus leopard began studying the sky.
Now after he transmogrifies into a cardinal, we watch him fly by!

The Words Begin To Dance

Read me,
As the words begin to dance, vacillating bewilderedly.
Without knowing who and where, or even when,
Foolishly stepped out, to meet a kind
The kind with bitter, chunderous, nature.

Kind, very kind without a doubt.
A warm, contrasting view of this being
4 limbs, 2 faces, steps out to greet me,
With its soft, frail hand, 
I pity the misunderstood, as rumours mutate
And transmogrify, smothering the barbarous reality
It smiled at me with one face

While the truth is
I set out to meet something different
Something much different, 
Something noxious, oppressive being entitled
To authoritarianism, ideology and power 


But it wasn’t here.
Or at least not yet

In a World of Princesses Be a Witch

I will be the princess of the dynasty
The princess of the corkscrew
The princess of the underwear drawer
There is a lot of laughter

Sybil does not understand the others.
She is not amused or laughing
She gets out her tarot cards and her runes.
Begins plotting the spells that will transmogrify the others

My Bath Is Not the Same

My relaxing baths are not the same 
Because I am not the same
I know when I get down into a tub, 
I might not be able to get back up out of it now 

How rapidly I changed from a little girl
To an old woman
Not realizing what it meant
Age did not sneak up, I blinked and she was here. 
She slapped me in the face

I used to love a bath!
The more bubbles the better
I cannot have bubbles anymore because of my asthma
I worry when I get down low I cannot get out of this tub. 
When did I transmogrify from a young girl to a dinosaur?
I growl with fierceness and make my own bubbles.

Obstinate Self Confident Leaf

He has got obstinate disorder whispered the wind
Too stubborn to change; will not even begin.
His brothers and sisters have changed to yellow and red.
He says he will remain green until the day he is dead.

The forest wind is getting louder, angry now you see.
Wanting the leaf to understand how autumn should be.
He has an individual life plan, share the root of the tree.
He wants to remain green as the bile in his knee.

They accommodated him but tried to coax him to switch colors.
He dropped off in autumn wind with his sisters and brothers.
But he was still a solid green, which was his ultimate goal.
A spring leaf who refused to transmogrify his self-confident soul.

Princess and the Frog Tribute

Tiana is glowing with beauty; adding a gorgeousness to the swamp
Croaking frogs gather, to admire her, recognizing her goodness
A saxophone playing crocodile jumps into action, showing admiration.

Tiana turns back and forth from human to a fly-catching frog
She can transmogrify any time she wants to, fitting into both worlds.
The night stars shine upon her, gracing her with extra bouts of magic.

Her gifts are plenty, and her admirations are many.  
The everglades share her talents with the people of New Orleans.
For tonight, however, she belongs to the Glades, enticing its unique song.

Marvelous Minnie

Marvelous Minnie had a hissy fit and threw her lamp down the stairs.
It hit an elf, a gargoyle, and four children dressed as Goldilocks and the Bears.
They ran up to see what was going on in the Witch’s crazy old mind.
I am sorry, she said. I did not think ahead, this was truly unkind.

And so they forgave her, but the next thing she decided to do….
Was to throw stuff out the window, and a couch landed on two.
They were shrieking and screaming and wailing to beat the band.
I don’t even care, she said. I thought their motives were underhand.

Come on! Her Auntie Feefife said. Give them a break, they turned into curd.
Transmogrify them into something else please, their squawking is rather absurd.

Lily Pads Are Protected

ethereal lights shine close to the lily pads
they shrink a bit, afraid of the fey
angels smile, hoping to instill joy

it is a great day for an earth visit
they do not often transmogrify into butterflies
they are monarchs today 

faeries and elves wave to them from mushroom villages
they are welcome all along their route
by others who have the ability to hide themselves

Sad and Stuck

sad
                                               and stuck
                                               giving up
                                          feeling hopeless
                                           living in a fog
                                    forgetting to care now
                                  losing all of our purpose
                                  opposite of Don Quixote
                               our optimism down the river
                      wishing life dreams could transmogrify us

Are You Afraid

There is Thoreau in me, for sure. 
I could live in the cabin in the woods
Spending my days without hearing a human voice
Or seeing a human footprint in the snow.

Homer and Cousteau reside in me too.
We appreciate the sea, loving the mystery of the deep
my muse and I could easily transmogrify into sirens
entering the world of never be on land again.

There is a wildness in me that wants to spend my life outside
Surrounded by owl, fox, raccoon, opossum, wolf, tiger, lion, bear.
But are you not afraid? Someone asked me.
Not nearly as afraid of them as I am of people, I reply.

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