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betterdays  Jun 2014
metamorph
betterdays Jun 2014
i see, in the black
studio cave of creativity.....

gangling, disinterested youth.
metamorph...
into mecurial, liquid madness...

fluid, upon the stage,
they fly, toward the lights.
moths, to a burning moon.

momentary flashes,
of. god's humour,
in flight across
the mechanical sun's
gelled brightness.

and then the curtain falls.
and they drift back,
into their former selves,
inarticalate, but secretly
smiling.
impressions of last week's practical theatre exams.
mads  Nov 2013
Metamorph
mads Nov 2013
I.
Dost thou love me?

II.
Art thou in pain?

III.
Doth the wind change shapes?

IV.
Shakespeare is dead.
And I fear all that you held
is dead too.

V.
Magician pulls the strings,
To the puppet wings...
We bleed.

VI.
But for what is this chatter,
As the rain doth pitter patter,
Drawing ever closer the sea to my feet.

VII.
A breath of fresh air
Too sharp to swallow softly,
I cough and magenta butterflies
Fly.

VIII.
Falsetto wings.

IX.
I never learnt to sing.

X.
Typical pulsating blood organs
Punching blue and black
Against bones made of metaphorical steel.

XI.
You stole me.
10:50 pm. Lack of sleep week 2.
Mysterious Aries Oct 2015
Words threaded are no better than dirt
If no one could feel the emotion of joy and hurt
If human heart metamorph into stones
How could a sparkling poem will hit home?

Seems poet dwell beneath the surface of the ground
Watering each other plants, praising each other sound
With instinct to prevent extinction, in order to continue to roam
But if we are on the underground, how could we hit home?

Doing both selfish and selfless acts
Photographer of fictions and facts
Every detail of life during white and gray
Hopefully, the images we captured will hit home someday

10/16/2015

Mysterious Aries
Butterflies were her favorite thing.
Her pillows had Monarchs in full winged flight
Needlepointed by an artful hand.

One perched on a perfume bottle’s cap
It’s crystal wings composed for rest.

Her jewelry box was full of them
In precious stones and colored glass
In every size and metal base.
If they all rose in magic flight
The air would shine with rainbows.
                               §
Today I found a tiny golden brooch,
Set with green and yellow stones
With tiny diamonds for the eyes.

It was dropped by someone rushing home
From entertainments where I do my work.
Will it be missed and my phone ring,
Or is this a message from my Mimi.

The minute that I saw it
She was in my mind
As gentle as the butterflies she loved.
She settled on the flower of my heart
And cocooned the little moth of me
And wrapped it up to metamorph
Into the unique butterfly I will be.
ljm
Mimi Weber was my mentor, my best friend, my almost big sister.  She introduced me to the 'wonderful' world of show business. and taught me many words of Yiddish.  When she died,  a lot of butterflies disappeared from the Earth.
Jim Davis Mar 2017
What life does
A butterfly see
Pretty black
Fleeting eyes

Butterfly vision
Unquenched love
For flower's colored vista
Though I expect

They often think
They are solely
Living a short life
Only eating and pooping

Defined as
Caterpillar forever
Or, does their mind
Metamorph also

Now, it's little brain
Like the angel's
Holds thought to fly
Released to drift free

Astonished to rise
Chasing flower's nectar
Until too dark to see
Or bloom unrevealed

Anyway, as it is
Seen by you and me
A soaring glory
Of handiwork divine

Absolutely
A life sublimed

©  2017 Jim Davis

.
From the web
Metamorphosis
a change of the form or nature of a thing or person into a completely different one, by natural or supernatural means.

Sublime
1. CHEMISTRY
(of a solid substance) change directly into vapor when heated, typically forming a solid deposit again on cooling.

2. 
(archaic) elevate to a high degree of moral or spiritual purity or excellencei
re  Apr 2020
metamorph
re Apr 2020
these days are hard for us
to be unmistaken
thought we got lost in the rush
or merely we’re not yet awaken

rise and recline
all the way stuck in this cycle
satisfied and then brood over
just as fast as the eyes-goggle

we repetitively
have been metamorphosed
and hopefully
turn into something immortalised
what a waste Aug 2016
Eat my metaphors.
Let 'em bubble up in your gut then
metamorph into hiccups wickeder than anything this side of the thicket has ever witnessed.

Preach from the streets,
no, belch from the bleachers about
how you heard from the greatest
and he said you could taste it.
Kurt Philip Behm Mar 2022
When feelings stop,
words take over
Emotion harried,
pen unleashed
Heart in limbo,
mind resurging
Muse in waiting
—time released

(Dreamsleep: March, 2022)
Traci Eklund Mar 2014
On the waters edge of old Huron,
lays islands in the mist,
the horizon composed of opaque grey...

Tarnished oaks of spring
offer their ****** buds to rays of sunlight,
to unfurl life,
to sacrifice a selfless offering,
to blossom beauty,
metamorph into shade...

To wilt and wallow with the winds of autumn.
To solemnly parish with flakes of snow.
From birth to death may you serve a purpose...
grow with beauty,
and die with grace.
Be thankful for the day before us,
and the day we envietably fade...
Carlos Aug 2018
Lines like a laxative for tongues,
The individual pieces become greater than its sum,  
Summer time therapy dialing up in increments,  
Wouldn't know the difference between the butterflies and chrysalis.
Syzygy in spirit as sympathy in the impetus,
Synergy  in serendipity makes symmetry seem ubiquitous.
Flummoxed, I fell face first flying into fellowship,  
Feeling fusion in the furrows of my fingertips,  
Figure this,  mistigris,  implement mirrors  for the synthesis,  
Taking root  in the underground,
This is censorship on stimulus.  
Kaizen from the get-go,
How did silence ever get gold?
Climate of the  biome discernible by  petrichor,
Some of my greatest allies are people I've never even met before.  
Mumpsimus with metaphors, metatron or metamorph,
A mess of Mesozoic memoirs  drowning in a reservoir,
Reserve my right to write a mire of a  message board,
Desire an empire of satire to conquest; explore,  
Buyers,  sellers,  best befores,  
Crying out to be adored,
The expiration estimation rivals rivals' primal repertoires.
Rhymes like mycelium,  climbing up the  parapets,  
Embrangled mosaics interceding abstract arabesque.

— The End —