#chameleon
I sit and stare, the cursor blinks,
Writer’s block has all the kinks.
No inspiration, not a spark,
An empty page, my brain just dark.
But wait! Upon my shoulder sits
A creature of peculiar wits.
A chameleon, small and green,
The strangest writing buddy seen!
He ***** his head, one bulging eye,
And seems to say, “Come on, just try!”
Then, shifting hues to sunny gold,
He whispers tales yet to be told.
When drafting poems, sad and deep,
He turns to blue, begins to weep!
A tiny tear, a mournful sigh,
Reflecting feelings passing by.
For action scenes, a fiery red,
He puffs and hisses, filled with dread.
His little claws begin to tap,
Demanding twists within the gap.
If comedy’s the chosen style,
He turns bright pink and seems to smile.
And puffs his throat in silent glee,
Suggesting jokes for you and me.
He’s not much use with grammar rules,
And spelling? Well, he knows no schools.
He just provides the vibrant spark,
The wild ideas, and character arc.
Thank you, Allan, my scaly muse,
For chasing off the writer’s blues.
With every color, every change,
You help my creativity arrange!
Aug 16, 2025
Aug 16, 2025 at 3:50 PM UTC
No one can wholly understand love
Love is never what one thinks it is
Love often comes as a snippy surprise
As a starry shock stemming from above.
Love is a hieroglyphic puzzle
Love has the power to muzzle
Shackle, overpower, direct and destroy
Love can be a very volatile or hazardous toy.
As soon as one is somewhat comfortable
Love shows her ugly fangs on the table
Love is not always a beautiful spring.
Love behave like a cunning chameleon
Love behaves like an uncommon phenomenon
No one can completely comprehend this thing.
Copyright © October 2024, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of numerous collections of poetry.
Oct 30, 2024
Oct 30, 2024 at 10:31 AM UTC
Earthly possessions, earthly possessions;
At most they’re all of my greatest confessions
As the mask I so love to wear over my face
Is a mask made out of chameleon skins-
It grants me a shrewd changing appearance,
Camouflaging myself, to fit in with the crowd.
Jul 6, 2024
Jul 6, 2024 at 11:34 AM UTC
Chameleon
written February 15th, 2021
the chameleon
delights
in finding vibrant
others
to reflect on his
skin
taking on one's
brilliance
until the next calls like a
siren
the beauty of each uniquely
intoxicating
until there is the inevitable
absence
no one to love
him
for the reflection on his skin of
them
without
them
who
is
he?
Feb 16, 2021
Feb 16, 2021 at 7:58 AM UTC
Chameleon, I change
Adapting, find myself
Lost in time
Or ever changing
I slip in quietly
Treat the hours as skins
And I am shedding
Every moment, reborn
Recreating myself
So definition
Never quite touches me
Jan 14, 2021
Jan 14, 2021 at 1:50 AM UTC
I am amorphous like water
Bond to whatever environment I am in
Mutable and lovely like your daughter
with the faintest tint of red in my hair and cheeks
Who am I?
simply a chameleon coat changing colors to match the vibe
Who am I?
A polished diamond to reflect back all the lies
Every pair of eyes, I reflect back on their biggest insecurities
Blame me for being a mirrorball, wish I could be a fly on the wall.
It is scary how daring I have become
It is scary how I am scared of no one
Not even the flames of my mother's rage can melt my icy disposition
Not even the endless cycle of nights and days can fray my imagination
Who am I?
Simply a passing moment entrenched in your brain
Who am I?
Just a chameleon coat
The true essence unknown
Dec 12, 2020
Dec 12, 2020 at 9:25 AM UTC
It
changes
colors
but
it
may
as
well
be
what
it
is.
Nov 12, 2020
Nov 12, 2020 at 11:00 PM UTC
if it werent for this chameleon skin
could anybody truly love me?
Jul 25, 2020
Jul 25, 2020 at 3:26 PM UTC
Chameleon
That's what they call me
But I change so much, I forgot what colour I started with
Chameleon
That's what they call me
I can be anything that they want me to be, but I will be who I wanna be
Underneath it all
When the colours flow
Underneath it all
I'm a rainbow
Underneath it all
There's a place to go
Chameleon
Chameleon
I feel them watching
Yeah, I'll give them the show
They say I'm crazy
But they don't really know me
I hear them talking
But I'm deaf while I soar
The sky is falling
After rains, I explode
Underneath it all
When the colours flow
Underneath it all
I'm a rainbow
Underneath it all
There's a place to go
Chameleon
They wanna build me up
They wanna nip and tuck me
But who I am is enough
I know I'll always love me for me,
Underneath it all
When the colours flow
Underneath it all
I'm a rainbow
Underneath it all
There's a place to go
Chameleon
May 11, 2020
May 11, 2020 at 11:56 AM UTC
Possible titles:
happenstance
storm colors
Concrete chameleon
Original:
I watched the sidewalk
Go from light to spotted grey
Sudden rain shower.
A different version:
Watching the sidewalk
grey spots growing together
Stone chameleon.
Mar 17, 2020
Mar 17, 2020 at 11:30 AM UTC
the stitches in my thigh are
healing so now we can all shake hands
and watch the money
poor in. the bombs are not coming,
please come out from
under your desks, you are safe
now and if im being honest
the desks wouldn’t protect you
from the shrieks of a
war plane. they sound
like nothing you’ve
ever heard
a frequency you unlocked
just for this
particular pain. you can almost see
the sound pour into your ear drums
like a bartender mixing
the ***** and the cranberry.
it sounds like 6am
it sounds like the same song
over and over.
Nov 16, 2019
Nov 16, 2019 at 6:31 AM UTC
We’re all just chameleons
Blending into the common trends
Nothings truly original anymore
But conforming is too boring
So then we encourage the parrots
Who cut through with their loud colors
And unique patterns
but they’re too different
even though everyone knows
Parrots are much prettier than chameleons
Soon after they arrive they are forced back from where they came
Different is good, but only if it’s the same as everyone else’s different.
Nov 22, 2018
Nov 22, 2018 at 9:37 PM UTC
Jesus, stop changing
whenever the lighting shifts
you chameleon
Nov 21, 2018
Nov 21, 2018 at 11:33 PM UTC
Kaleidoscope of colors
Mesmerizing, yet deceptive
Arboreal chameleon
Oct 27, 2018
Oct 27, 2018 at 11:00 AM UTC
When you write a poem
It's your
thoughts
emotions
experiences
Once you share it
It becomes a chameleon
Changing itself
Not to camouflage and hide
But to be viewed by each reader
in a personal and individualistic
Manner
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 8:51 PM UTC
A voice of the sun
Eyes that shine in the moonlight
Oh crap they saw me
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 11:08 AM UTC
Tiny marble eyes
Visible like a radar
Grinning on the lush
The cutest bundle of joy
Beautiful chameleons
©sim
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 7:27 AM UTC
There once was a boy with chameleon skin,
But his eyes told a story the more he gave in.
There was no hiding, as he caught the attention
Of a helpless little star, stranded in the horizon.
Familiar with the longing, she yearned to fall fast;
However, she couldn’t, held by the hurt of her past,
Until, one day, she saw the twinkle in his eye.
“How could a chameleon outshine the night’s sky?”
She questioned her reality, bound by insecurity,
But dared to lean further into his sincerity.
One night, she tripped, and out of bounds she fell,
But she couldn’t help but dance, mesmerized by gravity’s well.
“How silly I must look” she said, approaching the ground,
But all else disappeared once she heard a familiar sound.
His mindful inquiry, she never knew she needed.
Her heart began to blaze, “that’s all I want,” she pleaded.
She couldn’t help but be inspired by the sight
Of the twinkle in his eyes, refracting her own light.
Lightyears of observation presented a reality,
One she so wanted to feel, but could not really see.
She oft’ recalled the hour that her heart was still,
Remembering his freedom, while he perched upon that hill.
There once was a boy with chameleon skin,
But she loved how he shined as he failed to blend in,
So as she saw his heart, she really hoped he knew
That while the whole world could watch her, she told him
“I see you...”
Jun 18, 2018
Jun 18, 2018 at 8:50 AM UTC
We are in a century
Where a new phone line
Will mean a new life
Distance of love
Is only taught
To be covered by a dial
so we see no pain
When we quit relationships
For a donkey’s walk
As the ancient had it
Is nothing but a phone dial
How chameleonic is it
May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 10:54 AM UTC
This poem is dedicated to 3rd grade,
Politicians everywhere,
The San Diego Padres,
And everyone else who keeps ******* up my ****
I am not allowed to have feelings
Feelings would complicate this
I am
Nothing but a,
Stupid stuttering complaining *******
So do you mind
If I wrap my arms around you, just so I can say
That I am holding on to something that I won’t let go
Because I have trouble letting go
And yet
My hands slipped because they were sweaty and I was nervous,
And I dropped my courage and my thoughts.
So give me Will Toledo’s voice
And Rhiannon McGavin’s stage presence
I am not allowed to have feelings
Feelings would complicate this
Because I am nothing,
But a chameleon
And I try to stay invisible but in that attempt, I end up standing out
And looking like a black sheep among white sheep in a herd
Have you heard?
With this new update, he can unsave all of your messages
All your "I love yous" and all your "Hellos" and "Goodbyes"
And you are just messaging nothing
I am not allowed to have feelings,
Because feelings are stupid, and it feels too stupid to mention,
So do you mind if I whisper words into your ear?
So I can say
My secrets are trusted with the most trustworthy person
I am not allowed to have feelings
Feelings would complicate this
I am nothing but,
A god
Because every time I open my mouth
I create,
No, no, no, not the Garden of Eden
But the garden of even
And odd sentence structures that make phrases and paragraphs That are said so magnificently that I have the last laugh
Unless you want the last laugh
Because I’ll give you anything
To love you
To hold you
To say simples punchlines that make you smile because seeing you with that unconfident frown made feel like I have to do something
I,
Care,
And,
Love,
You.
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 6:32 PM UTC
I am the cold silver light in the darkness.
The rattling madness polluting sanity.
I am both, I am everything.
But mainly I am burdened with truth.
That, is why I am so Afraid of living
Why I am so afraid of Not living
Why I am not afraid to die.
I am the lead tainted paint in a bottle, stirring, absorbing the artist's pain.
In madness I am used to depict a reality ideal.
With every brush stroke, every color, I am killing him, he is using me to **** him,
as he paints murals for the masses to alleviate their suffering.
He suffers from truth.
He is not afraid to die.
I am a chameleon blending in with the rest of you,
Fools, drunk off of false hope and fairy tales
I am the paint, and the painting
I am the artist,
And I am not afraid to die.
Jun 8, 2017
Jun 8, 2017 at 2:38 PM UTC
Clouds don't lie. They tell the truth
wherever they may go.
Their shadows give relief
to creatures down below.
They change their forms and colors
the chameleons of the air.
Majestically, they soar above
to play with angels there.
They weep to nourish growing crops
and bring the snow and hail.
A crown of lightning lights their heads
before the coming gale.
Clouds can ride the jet stream
like a wrangler on his steed,
Then float serenely on the breeze
and other cloudlings breed.
They soak up sunset, changing hue,
vermilion, saffron, gold...
Then soar to higher atmospheres
to frolic in the cold.
Free to roam the open sky,
they mock the earth-bound horde
And blithely glide upon the wind,
no passengers aboard.
Oh, how I'd like to take a ride
upon a breaking dawn.
But clouds don't lie, and so deny,
a chance of getting on.
Unpretentious are the clouds.
They care not for our awe.
They graze upon their crystals
and are quite above the law.
The mysteries the clouds have kept
since Mother Earth began...
Are kept behind the truth they tell,
as part of heaven's plan.
May 18, 2017
May 18, 2017 at 12:18 PM UTC