"shapeshifters" poems
Here comes The Change
That has the range
Of emotions
And demotions
And devotions
Of a perilous populous
That likes to raise a fuss
When they eventually learn who I am
And treat me like I'm the Son of Sam
To be specific
They discover I'm gay
And begin to filet
My mentality
In totality
For fatality
Merely by acting differently
If my sexuality isn't the first thing people know about me
I get to witness The Change
Like a dog with mange
I am shedding my hair
While screaming no fair
Because of the shift I see
Because of the **** I need
To make my heart bleed
There is a steady bellowing burdensome baggage
From those that want to ****** some *******
So I search for weight lifters
But only find shapeshifters
That become great grifters
When The Change occurs
And The Change burns
So The Change turned
Me into an interdimensional changeling
And an unintentional rage king
After they use words like flaming
Because the results are so draining
It becomes hard not to hate people
Who are inspired by hate steeples
They say I'm going to Hell
While I notice the smell
Of being buried in their banal ****
While they play their greatest hits
That are as unoriginal
As they are cynical
They say I'm a degenerate
An embarrassment
A parent's lament
I want to change into a carefree bird
Instead I stay in Hell with the herd
Wanting to escape like Lupin the Third
Rather than be oppressed like the Kurds
But there is no relief
Only re-grief
When changes aren't permanent
But The Change is
There's an illustration of my life
That will change your perspective
The picture is in my words
When the painting is what I choose to say
And the canvas is your mind
Whose textures I could never imagine
So I jump off a cliff blindfolded
Expecting to be changed once I land
Nov 20, 2017
Nov 20, 2017 at 6:13 AM UTC
The fall of the
L'Heure Bleue,
the sweet lights, Brandenburg Gate,
awaiting human kisses,
a Midas touch,
kiss & tell
lipstick stains,
good girl gone bad,
Her,
heart & soul,
written,
in a silver,
streak,
of embellished ink
Each morning, crossing
horizons,
dawn to sunrise,
the photographers
'sweet light'
sunset to dusk
No full daylight, or
darkness,
sunlight only illuminating,
scattering skies
Paris, & Rome
the Colosseum, & the Eiffel Tower,
strike fire & flowers
This blue hour, shapeshifters
black Alexander **** &
Saint Laurent's elaphe snakeskin,
tainted pumps
The darker side, of
feminine mystique,
fire wood skies fade
Her,
ghost remains
She,
travels her own mind.
© Sia Jane
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 8:00 PM UTC
Hello my name is Jo and Im a shapeshifter
Hello Jo
I change when Im around him
He makes me someone who gets drunk
He makes me into a person willing to forsake those most important to me
He makes me into the worst version of myself
He is my father
He uses everything he's got to overpower everyone else
I learned my shapeshifter habits from him
Thats why Im here
To say enough
To put a stop to my shapeshifter ways
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 8:39 PM UTC
Under the full moon,
You made me breath in,
Where turned,
Taken away.
Under it too soon,
The chastening of your soul,
Enraptures my lust,
Past lost love for you.
For where are you,
Upon shapeshifters,
Wrenching, drenching,
Confused of their souls?
Where am I too,
Clawing,...clenching,...
Oct 31, 2020
Oct 31, 2020 at 9:07 PM UTC
Around the pool of chandelier light the movers and shakers gathered
in tight knots, unwilling to untangle from the policy books
intent on pushing fences further out into the Caspian Sea
across the Black Sea and encircling the whole Artic Circle
from latitude whatever to wherever.
The chief fence maker arrived with a pair of pliers
and rolls of barbed wire twenty thousand posts
and a battalion of unnamed soldiers all hiding
behind masks of make-up
" Now listen, people, roll out that spikey wire starting from here
to eternity and keep going around the globe until you return
five hundred years to meet the beginning with the end!"
A few bald heads bowed but wary of cross-hairs
hiding along the ceiling behind sharpshooting
shapeshifters.
They knew instinctively, that unbowed head may be bowled
over and transported to Siberia in a meat wagon
for permanent freezing with the mastodons.
"Go Now, do not turn back, ever, or you will become
a pillar of salt."
The band played The Last Post
as the last post rolled out.
Peace began as soon as the war ended
and the fences were built around the entire
Northern Hemisphere.
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 6:56 PM UTC
I once watch stars creeping through my nostrils,
A plant turning god and breathing smoke through my mouth.
Today there are constellations colliding in my thoughts,
a battle of the gods, Sagittarius spending darts like bullets,
My life is named after a Roman god.
There are far too many gods in this world,
Some shine and some are shy of the light,
We talk shapeshifters, mind invaders, soul suckers.
There are far too many gods in this world,
yet non saved me from being burnt by the city street lights.
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 7:49 AM UTC
Around the pool of chandelier light the movers and shakers gathered
in tight knots, unwilling to untangle from the policy books
intent on pushing fences further out into the Caspian Sea
across the Black Sea and encircling the whole Artic Circle
from latitude whatever to wherever.
The chief fence maker arrived with a pair of pliers
and rolls of barbed wire twenty thousand posts
and a battalion of unnamed soldiers all hiding
behind masks of make-up
" Now listen, people, roll out that spikey wire starting from here
to eternity and keep going around the globe until you return
five hundred years to meet the beginning with the end!"
A few bald heads bowed but wary of cross-hairs
hiding along the ceiling behind sharpshooting
shapeshifters.
They knew instinctively, that unbowed head may be bowled
over and transported to Siberia in a meat wagon
for permanent freezing with the mastodons.
"Go Now, do not turn back, ever, or you will become
a pillar of salt."
The band played The Last Post
as the last post rolled out.
Peace began as soon as the war ended
and the fences were built around the entire
Northern Hemisphere.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 6:47 PM UTC
People are shapeshifters
They change their skin from time to time
Sometimes they are preys
Lovely and faerie
Innocent lifeforms
Unlike the evil norms lurking on earth.
But mostly, they are killers.
They'll **** you upfront
They'll **** you while you're not watching
There's no catching for there is no justice
For no one notice
No one notices because they've changed their skin again.
Nov 21, 2018
Nov 21, 2018 at 9:31 AM UTC
I'm under the spell of your dark eyes' gaze,
your gray shaggy hair and your feral smile.
I'd rip off your clothes with my sharp front teeth--
come to my lair, and stay awhile.
The dogs follow me, 'cause they know I'm in heat,
but it's you I want, and I'm on the prowl.
The electric current sends a siren call--
I know where you are. I can hear you HOWL.
I run in the night, through the crowded dark street.
I run to the rhythm of the pounding hearts' beat,
to the edge of the cliff, where my love and I will meet.
Nov 14, 2023
Nov 14, 2023 at 11:58 PM UTC
Shapeshifters lost in mazes in a world of equilibrium walking bare along borders of still waters.
Their pale skin reflects amongst the flooded seas a breeze passed a 20 foot tree as they prance gracefully in my dreams.
Feb 7, 2017
Feb 7, 2017 at 11:26 PM UTC
i discovered you in a scroll
and during the beginning of my journey, too
and then the slow, slow crawl
to forgetting the warmth of your enveloping tune
so much has changed
i don't know my name, rediscovering earth
to my own principles, i'm estranged
but i never forgot my birth
how you nourished me in your melodic womb
and held me while i fought hydras and shapeshifters
how you leaving the room
never meant you never left a lasting fever
May 11, 2024
May 11, 2024 at 11:00 PM UTC
Full blown
Shapeshifters
Of streets and shops.
They swirl dervishlike.
When they stop,
I mistake them for dead crows,
Suffering rats,
Run over cats.
They meditate
In sheltered spaces
And parking places.
Near extinction
Almost fiction
Elevated by balloon ambitions
And skyward missions
Plastic projections of our
Longing for solutions
To pollution
(it's all their fault! ).
Jan 9, 2019
Jan 9, 2019 at 5:59 AM UTC
It imposes itself on everything, and everything becomes a rotten ***** because it has seen itself. Beneath the surface, moving, cocktail-drinking, bubbly V.I.P. exclusive evenings, insidious snake hisses, double entendres, universal sunken rot. Career graveyards at a loss become compulsive shapeshifters in pursuit of larger goals, looting dreams. In addition to a carefree lifestyle, it is necessary to take on grief and dirt with a toaster. Sooner or later, even the absolute winners are driven out of the race.
Only Death can bring comfort and consolation. To body and soul alike it offers a semblance of equality.- Daily shedding their reptilian-veined skins are the Janus-like Angels, saints, pretending prophet-greats. Whose daily ruined lives they ruin, They notice nothing but the virtue, if it pops, or if they lack the necessary sum To preserve the ruins of their sham happiness.
It may be that everything has long since been decided according to the suggestion of self-interest. Perhaps, with a little effort, petty kings and loyalty stooges could stay afloat in economic life-and-death struggles, bargaining even at the cost of their miserable lives to serve the legitimate institutions of cheap lies like prodigals: to dream is folly.
But for now, surely, it is better for many to bellow, to bend their heads and shout, to bang others' heads against the wall, shouting democratic slogans - the respectable historical chronicle will also record this in a falsified form, but people will have no trace of it when the moral balance has cooled down!
Feb 20, 2022
Feb 20, 2022 at 1:39 AM UTC