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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
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
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.
OnwardFlame Nov 2015
Spray painted red mane
Duplication, imitation, mutant
I'm so glad you and your blades
Were and are no where
To be found
Because I look and process
Sharpness, myself
Maybe it wasn't your supposed
Softness, I needed
But your selfishness
Spoke volumes.

Here we are again,
My secret hell, surrounded by failed
Relationships, a glamourization
Of feminine tragedy, painted so beautifully
Wedding ring man, says he's 40 with a wife
I wish I could have duplicated myself
All around the room, and horrified
Horrified
Horrified you.

What is it about men
What is it about women
Fluidity but we excuse
"Genetic Behavior."

I would rather be a mutant.
I'm sure you close your eyes from time to time
Haunted by my smile, and lack of
Moon beam shine
I am best at leaving marks behind.

Releasing me from my bird cage
My finger tips and lips
Only breathe life into
Intricate, one of a kind art
As I look up at the sky
Recognize,
The sky is truly the limit.

It all makes sense now
I could never really see you
Standing next to me
Clouding me with pretty words
And your manipulative over bearing love
I don't know that you even know
What and who you are.

Dropping responsibility
I painted myself black and blue
Disappearing into the night sky
Metamorph queen, ******* moon beam
I was always all those things
I know your heart must ache.


I wish I hadn't gotten so caught up
So invested, my feet barely touching the ground
I stopped seeing everything around me

So I open my eyes wide
I find solace in my solitude once more
I breeze and waltz through opening doors
My phone buzzes and chimes less
No reason to stress
"He is out there"
They all say, and I believe them

I taste every moment.
OnwardFlame Nov 2015
Its so hard to leave the house today
Its so hard to feel good today
Its so hard to give a **** today
Its so hard to fake a smile today

My throat ached at 4 in the morning
Tossing and turning
You are in every single one of my dreams
On drugs throughout the night and day
Until I closed my eyes, aching
I felt so free at the time
Not sleeping a wink at night
Snuggling dear friends
Discussing now and then
I thought we were everything.

I guess I was so wrong
And thats what hurts most of all
But everyone cheers and chants:
You are so very strong.
Better without him
And its true
But I wish I didn't have to leave my room
I could just kiss goodbye
To what we had, what I thought we were
And what we turned out not to be
I imagine you must be working right now
Making up your cocktail recipes
Rattling and yapping
At anyone who will listen
My God, I tried.


I really did.
But there is no world in which
You metamorph
There is no world in which
I become the girl you wanted me to be
Because I am all woman
Its not even that I'm lonely
Or long to be with you still
I just wanted you to be more man.

Aching and contemplating
I wish I felt more motivated today
Everything a chore, just get me through this week
I wish I could go back to dancing so freely in front of a mirror
But I now have that beautiful memory
Within me
And it wasn't because of you
It wasn't because of any man
I just gave myself permission
To be exactly who I am.
My varicose veins started to swell day by day, mother.
How do I make the pain go?

Well, periwinkles are anesthesia.
It will help you numb the pain
if you make sure to keep
the stench within.
So keep some in a bottle.
And son, from now on
Get a skindeep sunlight surgery.
And forget the tea.
I'll make you a cup of rain for the morning.
So get well soon, okay?
You better be.

Day by day
I metamorph
into a tree.
Geraldine Taylor Jun 2017
Through the journey, life arrives

Underwater – start their lives

Stable neither hot nor cold

Soft tiny eggs there to behold



Of such a time, lay vulnerable

For many eggs is tactical

Protection of the animal

Camouflaged with gravel



Frogs and toad, amphibian class

Eggs that float in jelly mass

From tadpole to a metamorph

The stages of which to transform



The brooding pouch of the seahorse

Protection from an outside force

Hatch of species, tiny fry

Plankton their to multiply



Yolk sac feed, young fish growing

Strengthened muscles for swimming

Insect eggs and prawn relish

Hunting groups for bigger fish



Gliding through in forward motion

Darker depths of the ocean

Water wonders plentiful

Such vertebrates are wonderful



Written by Geraldine Taylor ©
Damien Ko Apr 2019
I come in the quiet to you in the dark
I come with ennui to you in my heart
I come to you soul
I yearn to be your whole

Let loose earthly tether, simply open
Let loose heady vapor, take flight again
Let loose clearly clear, flow freely
Let me be yours truely

Begin in the center open to oneness
Approach the blossoming flower
Metamorph the self color to color
Cycle the void to totality

Synthesize concatenate and verbalize
Magnanimate, bombasticize, ennunciate
obfuscate, shadow, hide
but touch, feel, and show
i got real meta. i like writing but im not happy with this.
Diljeev Jul 2021
Morrow's dawn
when I'm reborn,
the well known lad
will be long gone,
there aren't many
who'll mourn,
those who will
shouldn't for one,
the metamorph
will be who they
all should've known.
Blessing or a curse
I'll take it with
in all my lives,
the eternal longing
will be one of my wives
except even death
won't do us part.
renseksderf Nov 2023
Hello
PeOple of the once
EThereal metamoRph
Your moment has now
arrived; PERiwinkle
adornments on your
china on display,
SPecific to table placements
ICarian silhouettes on
placemats, UnIcorn-lined
doilies in conTrast Yell
out: 'perspicacity.'
Your aid and companionability
see us through it all.
published elsewhere in 2020
Michael Perry Oct 2020
AUTUMNAL

well into a year, we watch as all the colors
begin to clash and meld metamorph itself
into something more or less an original
declaring look at me, as all around we begin
to feel the change, and the winds begin to shift
taking a crisp turn, further more, lest we forget
it's noticeably dark; with the sun  in retreat; a little
more each day as the seasonal set stage, we once again
prepare ourselves for further year end decline, still
we will remind; to look for the early signs  of what's to come
until then we will prepare ourselves  to hibernate
through the winter,  if need be only waking  as the sun
reaches peak, hence retreat, we watch as the ice upon the
ponds and leaves, will give up, draw back, disappears

by Michael Perry
Ryan O'Leary Dec 2020
If it was to imitate it would
be choosing to mutate into
a shapeshifting metamorph
for the purpose of demonic
sorcery casting spells, thus
confusing the uninformed
into the transformed fiction
of their consenting beliefs.


ps.

This is the Covid long form.

— The End —