"shapeshifting" poems
I have been in skin of wolf all my kitten life
Your sister is getting an attack, help her surrender
Your ****** is bleeding
Save the world red
Unite the blood of Eve and perform monthly
have daily routine of keeping melanated to the cleanest groom
oil your crown
oil your skin
wash your bedding
do your thing
have it your way
you are royal
you are royal
bow your head
give thanks
and conquer
I have been in the skin of wolf all my kitten life
never little
never naïve
never broken
a shapeshifting ******
with eyes of enchanting love and paws that hold power
of goddesses and queens before I
spoke myself into reality
wrapped with stars on my spine and the moon and mars as my eyes
I have always seen the wolf inside my kitten skin all my life
wrapped in grace some call it woman
wrapped in mastery some call god
allah
Adonai
Mother Mary
Anetha
Medunsa
surrendered to love,
fully submitted into intuition.
I am every. I am all.
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 5:38 AM UTC
It's cold outside,
rain falling down the sky,
foggy view, blurry sight,
I tremble with every step taken.
Not dream nor reality,
my consciousness fades,
words dance around their letters,
my beliefs collapsed.
Shapeshifting,
a brighter world sprouts,
limitless possibilities,
junctions merging their paths.
Efforts rewarded
with the sand of time,
barricades undone
time rewinds.
Splashs of water running down my face,
worlds drifting apart,
existence reentered,
my walk proceeds.
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 3:21 AM UTC
god ****** she misses you
and god ****** i miss you
and im sorry, god, for swearing but i have run out of ideas on how to make this no good shapeshifting warm handed boy notice me remember when he said i love you
this is not a goodbye you don't deserve one this is not a plea for help see previous poems, twitter, my wrists, etc this is not a romanticization of your destructive ways and i no longer hear birds sing when you torch cities and i can't bring myself to see the love in your inferno so what the hell do i have left to say to you
i once wrote that you left love letters on my tongue and that you made drowning fun but i have come to the conclusion that those are both in fact lies and that the only thing you left on my tongue is the bitter taste of your name and beer and that drowning is ******* terrible and so are you
i remind myself everyday that you must have been a good person somewhere along the way and that there must have been some point where you actually did miss the feeling of my skin and that i was the only one you cared for- but i must also remember the day you filled my vacancy and turned on the lights and i still see you in the smiling pictures hung on the walls like your head in the hall whenever i pass by and i remember the day you moved out and on to nicer things and to this day you have succeeded in making the whole thing feel like an eviction, like it was me that wanted you gone and my peeling wallpaper has since revealed that the only thing holding me together was you
funny how every part of this poem ends with you and funny how every thought these days ends with you
and it's funny how when things ended with you you were the only one laughing
this is not a cry or a plea or an appology
this is a eulogy from me to you and i will not waste any more metaphors or adjectives or nights where i should be fast asleep on your whirlpool eyes and twisted smile
you once said, at 3 am, "you know when you're as close to loving someone as physically possible without actually saying it?" and i replied with "yes" and i love you i love you i love you
i hope flowers grow from your rotting heart and i hope you wake up some life and feel just a hint of remorse as you look into her eyes
i'm not a poet and you're not a nice boy and there was a time when i would devote my life to writing about the way you touched my cheek and you would devote your life to exploring the small of my back
that life has ended and i hope she holds you close enough at night
(my own hands will find comfort in the folds you left unnoticed and i will let myself hear the whispers of flattery upon every surface i touch. i will love myself and i will learn to not love you and i will find someone that i can love without pushing myself aside)
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 9:02 PM UTC
Life molds you into a shapeshifting mess.
One stumbles through different tribulations, and the soul diversifies as the years pass.
You turn into different versions of yourself.
It’s like treading through hell, but you taste heaven at the same time.
It’s not a choice, it’s a requirement.
Its like drinking liquid gold. The concept is luxurious, but it kills you so deliberately.
A beautiful solemnity?
Emotions so immense.
It hurts so much to breathe, to exist, yet you need to stay, you stay because of love. We suffer to exert empathy. Love is the cutlass that impales deeply.
It cuts far, it makes you bleed profusely, but it feels so good.
It just feels so good.
Is there a point to it all in the very end?
Happiness seems temporary. Chasing it is like the drop you feel when the veil is pulled from under your foundation; long, scary.
Happiness is the rarest paragon.
The heart, heavy and the mind, full.
Wondering day after day.
Who will understand me, touch me, sense me.
Wonder, keep wondering.
Wonder possesses you.
Wonder keeps watching you.
Wonder doesn’t let go, it comes to watch you die.
That’s the why, that’s the death.
Life will never give you an answer.
Nov 20, 2021
Nov 20, 2021 at 1:54 PM UTC
You travel between disparate realms
desperate knights, with splintered shield
and cracked helm, black rose on their white backs.
Such void, from which universes are created,
where normality is clay, and plasticity.
Granting merit to my thefts
Your ink spills in torrents,
rapidly alternating colors.
But my black and white photos
they are beautiful too!
I never have known boredom
as a man in my own home,
such is my inability to understand
how you flit and zip,
I only have two hands and two lips,
to try and transform a gift,
from the norm, while a storm sleeps
beneath every syllable.
Countless bodies, devoid of mind
until swooping in they come,
it is not enough that I possess true feelings.
It must be the purity within my tainted stanzas
that counteracts the inadequacy of the volume.
Or some subliminal, or sublingual amplifying agent
or reality distortion involved,
which brings shapeshifting angels
gliding by, leaving tokens of bone carvings,
and charcoal drawings of what I choose to hide,
but simply cannot.
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 11:17 AM UTC
*Lightning Enchantress & Her Diamond Absolutes,
Moaning Fluxes Of Her Satellite Pursuits.,
Phantasmal Intents In Her Indigo Silhouettes.
***** Eyes & Animatronic Bliss,
Her Cherry Lips Calling For Her Symphonic Kiss,
Inimitable Raindrops & Iridescent Perpetuity,
Condensed Laments Of Her Kaleidoscopic Sphericity,
Purple Palisades & Platinum Charades,
Pheromone Verses Of Her Propelled Shades,
Shapeshifting Reveries Of Her Hourglass Fictions,
Charming Archangels Concealed In Her Convictions,
Glasshouse Perspectives Emitting Luminescent Predictions,
Magnetic Canvas & Her Stainless Vibrations,
Her Aesthetic Amour Diffusing Amplifications,
Satirical Saga In Her Spiritual ******
Lyrical Charlatans Of Her Velvet Creativity,
Crystal Flowers & Supernatural Dreams,
Befuddled Effigies Of Her Cryptic Realms,
Her Feral Gleams Illustrating A Prophetic Queen.
- 02:32 AM -*
Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 5:48 PM UTC
Unfortunately you are not for everyone. Not everyone will like you. Not everyone will love you regardless of what you do and how nice of a person you are. Not everyone will vibe with your energy and not everyone will understand and support you.
Even though it is a bitter pill to swallow at times don't let it make a turmoil of your emotion and deplete your energy. Because your time and energy is so much more precious than exhausting yourself by shapeshifting to pander to the whims of others, moulding yourself to fit in every where and hence retaining no shape to call your own.
Choose not to sacrifice your uniqueness to succumb buttering up their bread. To Be selective with your energy by politely waving them goodbye to stand by your values and lifestyles that most deeply resonate with you. Choose to take social risks regardless of the awkward glances and haughty whispers. Choose to not care of what others think to the point it stifles your ability to take risks and disrupt your social satisfaction.
For there is nothing more liberating than to not waste your life allowing the faultfinders to dictate your actions. To seek to align your actions with your heart. To stand up for something, to do and believe what brings content regardless of it being disliked. It is beautifully candor being your authentic self.
Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 6:50 PM UTC
I was the happiest child
everyone called me naive
But as I grew up.
The happiness stayed
it took on a different form
I began to encapture people with my
sad happiness
I had a smile that could fit in anywhere
said my nana
You are so gracefully reserved
said my father
You have a shapeshifting soul
said my mother...
but the problem with a chameleon soul
Is you never can quite remember
your original color.
Oct 2, 2015
Oct 2, 2015 at 5:23 PM UTC
I put on earrings today
the ones with the bronze suns
I woke to a blue sky
in winter
Lipstick on my lips
for the first time in 6 years
I laughed at my old fool
reflection
Sighs and forlorn stares
had long graced my view glass
now a clean canvas
before me
Most tentative, the first stroke
such a daunting liberty
my pallet still holds
all the colors
Could one forget how
to see in the mind’s eye
the shapeshifting forms
of the spirit
Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 11:59 AM UTC
And I think I'll call these the lost nights.
The nights where the silence is all consuming. Shapeshifting into black holes.
The only light at the end of this tunnel used to be the sound of your voice.
But now I'm stuck between the four walls of my mind that taunt me with the secrets they hold in the form of my memories.
The most prevalent one says that you'll never call.
So far it's been right. Sometimes I ignore it.. But nights like these, it ricochets like gunshots. Screaming to be more than heard..
Screaming to be felt.
And once again I'm reminded that I'd rather it be your voice that broke the silence instead of my memory of it.
I think I'll call these the lost nights.
Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 5:06 AM UTC
I have been buried in a flowering sofa
I have been buried in punk rock guitar
I was swimming in a sea of orange juice
I wish I believed in unicorns and innocence
I wish my roots ran deeper
I was ******* us over in the middle of November
I was in way over my head
I have a cramp in my side-stomach
I have terrible sleeping habits
I have been carried by prophets up hills of redemption and
I have spent Sunday afternoons with ****** in basements
I have spent days huddled around burning xmas trees
I have a mind that suggests disease, and is riddled with laughter
I have drifted directionless on an autumn breeze
I have prayed to the gods of *** before and after
I have been tossed about on shapeshifting seas.
Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 9:21 AM UTC
GOD **** THIS CZECH SHAPESHIFTING
lost in Praha
lost in Kafka
losing myself
careful making deals
with old Nick
I said 'Beatle' not 'beetle'
***
WHEN FRANZ MET DÓNALL
'When Dónall Dempsey woke up one morning from unsettling dreams, he found himself changed in his bed into a monstrous version of a certain F. Kafka.
Someone must have been telling lies about Dónall Dempsey, he knew he had done nothing wrong but, one morning, he was arrested to find out he had been turned into this F. Kafka.
Where had his Dónall Dempsey-ness gone and why - Kafka? He knew of but had never actually read any - Kafka He had knowledge of the tropes...what Kafka could be reduced to in terms of general knowledge that could possibly clinch a pub quiz victory so that people would nod sagely and say "I knew...you being a poet and all...that you would know the answer to that."
I found that what had happened to me...whatever had happened to me...was more extensive that I had thought so that even my initial "D" become the 11th letter of the alphabet instead of the usual fourth. I was now merely a "K."
I realised I would have to go to Prague to bring some semblance of sense to this transformation. And when I did so...hiding myself among the many tourists...I discovered that Kafka had become me and that we had somehow traded places.
So that now there was a Dónall Dempsey cafe and postcards bearing my features and other such touristy attractions that would be sure to be a sure fire attraction to the traveller with a literary bent of mind.
I visited the grave...his grave...and sure enough...it was my name that was chiseled into the stone.
Meanwhile Kafka was enjoying my life and strolling around Guildford as if it was his own. He appeared to be enjoying being Dónall Dempsey.
"Ha ha..!" I thought. "Give it time...give it time!" And Franz would surely find that being Dónall Dempsey wasn't such a good thing.
And myself being a literary tourist attraction? I ****** well hated it I wanted to crawl away and die or be trampled to a pulp by a frightened child who had discovered a cockroach in her cornflakes.
Dec 7, 2020
Dec 7, 2020 at 8:01 AM UTC
*transformations
sometimes seen as
magical events..
but let's track
a northward unity
and southward split..
one becomes three
and three one..
constant motion
these sensational trips
pulsations
found in
the heart of
cosmos and cell...*
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 12:22 PM UTC
I see in your eyes,
Two shallow pools of white with coffee mixed in,
I tremble before them,
You judge me too hard.
I hear it in your words,
The desperation reeks,
Its care you say,
I don’t feel it anyway.
I see the way you are,
Insincere and shapeshifting,
You’ll love conditionally
‘Don’t worry’ you reach your hand out
Each time we touch I die a little more
Its scary out there,
Look in the mirror to feel safe
My mind puts up a fight
So I need you all again
The pity holds me well
Well enough to try again
May 13, 2025
May 13, 2025 at 2:53 PM UTC
*I met a boy who's shy
as a fox. He has hair thick
as it's fur. Eyes big ,
round and glow. I met a
boy who's free and wild
like the untamed wolves
who roam around the woods
in the silver moonlight. He's
the boy I love. The boy that
i saved from shapeshifting
in the dead of night. One kiss
before midnight stopped his
body from aching and shaking.
It stopped his bones from
cracking and breaking. One
kiss was all it took to cure his
curse. But he will always remain
my little wolf boy. The boy I
met when I was wondering lost
in the dark. The boy i touched
before he shifted into the
creatures of the night who
hunt for prey and mark their
territories with their paws
and claws* ~
Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 2:56 AM UTC
SHAPESHIFTING
7/25/2014
in under two minutes
I could shed my skin
my limbs aren't my own-
to be in your presence
to feel the warmth
hearing breaths, chest moving
If your arms are around mine
the shift becomes inside
like the plates of the earths core
positioning right into each other
filling each other, filling me up
shapeshifting
I'm not me when I'm with you
I'm indebted to this feeling
take my skin;
my veins -
rip out my entire being
shapeshifting
for you
Oct 28, 2017
Oct 28, 2017 at 12:30 AM UTC
every day a blue renegade
mercury falling out of the sky
solar system come
come feel me die
a star so burning that i cry
orange yellow black and why
do i hold on to relics what am i
the glow of the moon
me shapeshifting into the form of you
dark china drifting in fading out
what is the night without the dreams
echoing in the chambers of
a building that is baroque
time goes by i become confused
wrinkles ephemeral death is forever
life is so gray it threatens my soul
what can i say
each move is a play
Jan 16, 2017
Jan 16, 2017 at 2:05 AM UTC
I live on a planet that terrifies me.
at night, I imagine a knife slicing open my abdomen
I feel more relaxed with my skin open
my guts remind me of everything.
animals are beautiful on the inside.
I am meat,
and the night is dripping wet--
digesting.
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 4:23 PM UTC
My mother’s addiction is a shapeshifter—
It takes on so many forms it’s rumoured
that nobody knows its true face
It’s a master of disguise
it hides itself behind thin lipped smiles
and tired eyes—
It changes so often it’s hard to tell
if it ever recycles old forms
I frequently ask myself if I would
recognize her if I did not have her eyes
If we didn’t share a body for 7 months
would I know the sound of her heartbeat
even when she’s disguised as a dragon
—sober is the shape she fails to hold the longest
the edges between make believe and reality
blur almost as quickly as they form
It’s easier to be a flame than still water
so she burns down everything in her path
At home we don’t dare say the word addiction
we walk on eggshells like her cover will crumble
at the slightest vibration from the floorboards
—we glide through the hallways like spirits
there’s no need for a haunting here
ghosts already roam in the walls
you hear wailing more often than silence—
I’m beginning to think Halloween is my favourite holiday
because it’s the one day of the year
people can look into this haunted home
and they don’t judge me for what they see
behind closed doors
—I’ve never been one for haunted houses
but maybe it’s because I’ve been living in one
for 22 years without a break
I wish to escape from my own house of horrors
so why would I pay to enter somebody else’s
Instead I put on devil horns
and watch movies where there’s always a final girl
wondering if it would be worth my soul
to make a deal with the devil
so my mom can stop shapeshifting
so my brother can sleep at night
so I can finally breathe, even just for a moment
—my mother’s addiction is a shapeshifter
I hope someday soon I can see what she truly looks like
I have been living with a stranger for so long
I’ve forgotten what it feels like to recognize
the people you love
Jul 10, 2020
Jul 10, 2020 at 8:13 PM UTC
Awaken on Friday morning with green hair,
Looking every bit as mythical, out of the ordinary as your personality.
Do you remember telling me in my clouded memory that I was loved?
I don't blame you if you don't,
You were shapeshifting, you were busy.
You had more to worry about than my ramblings and poetry.
///Preamble.
Into the past where I find myself slipping,
Forgive me if you find that I'm trespassing.
I see hurt and heartbreak...
Want to bring you back through the vortex
Despite the physical barriers.
How many thousands of men could not break your enigma,
And how many sincere girls have shattered your heart beyond repair?
Oh, who could have blamed you for reading Nabokov in bed?
The marijuana haze was too prevalent,
You having gone years without joy but not a handful of minutes without self-deprecation,
I saw in the full frame of this seriousness,
I cut my hand on the picture frame,
And looked to the floor out of shame.
This is your story after all,
Is it fair if I exclude myself?
///Submersion.
Born under a black sun,
And drowning in the omnipresent light,
The Pantheon took note of the atmosphere,
Heightened with sadness.
But you're locked up, Melpomene,
I hardly know your name,
Your tragic songs...
What quiet, old voice has led me to write this?
The same morning my anxiety had reached its peak
And I had little reason to think you'd reached clarity,
I sat in the hallway of struggled composition,
Arrived at the reckoning that nothing should cause worry,
That questions either warrant answers, spite or silence.
All in between is dictated by sadness,
Dictated by you, then.
Please, step back from the ledge.
Dec 18, 2016
Dec 18, 2016 at 6:55 AM UTC
We're all gunna die someday
Better find the one while
we still have time
No more noons gaining high
off wine
Or indulging in pipe dreams
love of mine
Unconscious heart
Persperated in the tinge of desire
Pulled in from the fallout
All the quaking and debris
and rumbling of the inner city
Shapeshifting through the
dregs of karma
You're the muse stealing the
gods' fire
Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 1:10 AM UTC
you were born with
a gift in your bones
this world is shapeshifting
from your light alone
and it’s lining your vessel
with gooey lovetones
that are dripping pure gold
on to all you have known
you are gleaming with meaning
you are a multidimensional being
who thinks every thought
to create all you’re seeing
you are strong and redeeming
there is nothing weak about you
you pump never-ending value
feel your strength as it climbs
from your cosmic enzymes
they are dancing inside
singing out an endless love song
that “_you’re right on time_”
May 13, 2019
May 13, 2019 at 5:06 PM UTC
I gave you my wings but you let me fly
Wishing wells forever echo our sound
With painted feathers of lost memory
I sweep silent my old bones from the ground
Apr 15, 2020
Apr 15, 2020 at 10:14 PM UTC
red stains of lipstick
empty glasses left behind
shapeshifting beauty
Jun 25, 2010
Jun 25, 2010 at 7:49 AM UTC
In this
Trapeze of love
As the absence of light
Streams off
Into the x-ray
Of this smiling canyon
The empty chasm
Of my soul
Is fulfilled in the gut
Of a spiral galaxy
That you enlighten
My precious
Star cluster
My eternal light
I am forever
Shadow dancing
In the lucent glows
That seep through
The cracks of your
Kerosene lamp
Into the outer space
Cabin of my heart
Human problems
Sway on the
Edge of light because
The island universe
Speaks of an
Ancient text
Which is only
Fossil philosophy
Here on earth
Shapeshifting
Through the night
Coexistence with
My dreams
Out of body
Spiritual transcendence
An inner lighthouse
Only means that
I am awake and
I am free
O how I love thee
You fill my super nova
You complete my emptiness
My highest consciousness
Sweet splendor
Your Infinite Presence
Winds up
My unfastened ends
Painting this still-life portrait
Into kaleidoscopes
Of endless cave-like
Love abyss
Thank you dear Spirit
For cosmic breath
Thank you for life
Thank you for death
Thank you for blessing us
With every day we live
Thank you for nature
And all the beauty
Mother Divine
Has yet to
Give
© tHE tERRY tREE
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 1:47 AM UTC