"shifter" poems
Drawing images using some words
Telling some stories that are unheard
Stealing the moment, freezing the time
Killing the beast that vultures the mind
Spilling blood, the pen is our knife
Collecting traces from this mysterious life
Connecting dots to create a line
Polishing stones to make it shine
Our words are riddles, a must to decode
Giving multiple key for them to unload
The meaning of some could make readers insane
If wrongly unlock it will conquer their brain
We are a shape-shifter just like the cloud
Painting angels and demons to enlighten the crowd
Hoping they’ll listen to our joy and our pain
Wishing they’ll get the lesson of our every rain
11/03/2015
Mysterious Aries
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 8:45 AM UTC
Straight Shooter
with No Chaser
Tell me
No Lies
Kind of
Communicator.
Pom Pom swinging
Rah Rah singing
From the front
Back
Or Side
Proudly Cheering.
Spirit Lifter
Mood Shifter
From low
To high
With
On time Laughter.
If things get crazy
Or someone comes against me
You got
My back
Quick
You're my one man army.
My Partner
My Friend
©Tina Thompson
May 9, 2012
May 9, 2012 at 2:47 PM UTC
Two faced
Many minds
Shifter of shapes
Dr. Jekyll
Mr. Hyde
Past lives
Intertwined
Most mean
Few kind
All vie for equal time
All determine to shine
The writer
The fighter
Drama king
*** machine
The revolution ignite-r
The brave slave
One with
Passion and fire
The singer
Dead ringer
One who points the finger
Conspiracy theorist
Lyricist
Soulful swagger
Hip Hop demeanor
The teacher and student
The dude with attitude
And no one can refute it
A brother and a son
The one that has been shunned
One who leaves them stunned
With the selfish things
I’ve done
The secret me
The enemy
The one whose heart is numb
There are a lot of us
No stopping us
And yes there’s more to come
I’ll never alter
My alter selves
Incarcerate them
In individual cells
Even when they scream and yell
All are a part of me
And they refuse to be veiled
You ask me
Is there a pill?
A remedy…?
Because this has to
be
Insanity
Did you disrespect
My dissociative identities?
Do you really want
to make all of us
your #1 enemy?
We’re laughing
Its killing me
We flip the script easily
Me- and all of my
inner entities
Chillingly
You’re triggering
A very sad memory
Oh, what a tragedy
You’re just another casualty
Unfortunate fatality
Of my Multiple Personalities…
Oct 1, 2012
Oct 1, 2012 at 12:49 AM UTC
Shade shifter, turn-me-red.
Master the colors and trick
the disguiser--
morphing electric skin.
Make novelty probing
into the dark
unknown.
Shake suiters with perfect
control, of all the senses.
In a savage land, or a rare
spectacle of courage
no under sea mountain
is too strong.
Or ocean to shallow
to fill the hole,
A schism dares to thunder.
In a serene wave
watched by a moon's
cyclops gaze.
Feb 2, 2013
Feb 2, 2013 at 6:07 AM UTC
A quaint little shifter
From purple to green
He can hide and appear
So funny when seen
With beady weird eyes
And a look of apathy
Don't be fooled by it's demeanor
It's as cute as can be
I'm talking of a lizard
Can be small as your thumb
They can make me go silly
And shout 'OMG LOOK AT IT'S TONGUE!!'
But really, truly
I do love you
Mr. Chameleon
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 6:06 AM UTC
My depression is a shape shifter
Some days it can be as big as a lion
And others it can be as small as a bee
On the good days I can feel happy and free like a weight has been lifted from god knows what
But on the bad days... god the bad days
It can feel like the world is against me, i wake up and my body tells me no. I go to school and avoid everyone because I know I will either hurt them or myself like I constantly do. it's not just physical pain either it's emotional pain that never stops like someone constant telling me I'm worthless.I'm ugly.
Why are you here?!? I ask myself
Why did god put me here just to torture me
And on these days a little bit inside of me shrivels up and dies
It's like smoking, the first time it's not that bad but after a while your lungs start collapsing, slowly dying inside of you without you knowing until it's too late to change it.
On the bad days I lie to everyone and say I'm fine
IM FINE!
Are you actually kidding me! Do you honestly believe that I'm fine?
Look at my arms and my legs
Do you not see them scars do you not see that my only way of me not killing myself is to control my physical pain because clearly my emotional pain is out of control.
On the bad days it's like a downwards spiral which I don't know when it will stop or if it ever will.
On the bad days I don't know if I will beat my battle I don't know if I will **** my demos
But I hope and I pray that one day. One day someone will see how actually messed up I am.
How can they not see it already!
It's not going to be until I try and **** myself that you or someone else will actually work it out!
I. Don't. Want. To. Be. Here.
I. Want. To. Die.
But then I don't
If that's my only way out I'll take it but I don't want to
Mum say " I just want you to be happy"
How! How can I be happy when most days I feel like there's no point, everyone hates me any way so what's the point!
You don't understand.
My depression is a shapeshifter.
I hope one day you will work it out
Jun 8, 2017
Jun 8, 2017 at 4:40 PM UTC
I'm a small pebble
making a giant ripple
A speck of black sand
on a coral white beach
The left foot
kicking up a storm
A hermit, a drifter
a paradigm shifter
I am a disruptive
not a destructive force
I think outside of the box because inside I'm lost
I've been Nero, DaVinci
Neruda, Dali
burned as a witch
and now I'm just me....
a small pebble
making a giant ripple
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 9:47 AM UTC
Teardrop echoes; the tone of your skin drains away,
painting another picture of the night. Whistle-blowers of the night-
torchbearers of the day; kids fighting each other for tree turfs;
skipping stones at early morning ducks. But their mother
inside doesn’t have much time to duck his punch
Well domesticated dogs, too afraid to bark at the night’s
domestic violence. Dominated skin under the dominator’s tight
hands; the love of a shape-shifter— changing its skin to appear
loving for ten pairs of eyes; striking down with a false picture
of love- to the sight of six eyes. Like claws that sink into your
skin; he’s drunk again!
A day away from shelter; for a heaven that does exist from
one’s bruised knees. For all the hurt draped over troubled
shoulders, unfurled eyes crying silent tears bouncing off
the walls
_A child in the next room hears the teardrop echoes_
Sep 5, 2024
Sep 5, 2024 at 6:02 AM UTC
She came first in a dream
when I was fifteen. Yes,
she was the fire of ecstasy and her first licks
set my world aflame.
She's a shape-shifter, sometimes
fair and sometimes dark,
but always naked
when she comes.
She often whispers secrets
in the molten, swollen nights.
She even shows me jungles
and raging torrents down
where tom toms throb.
But when the morning breaks,
and I'm alone,
I struggle to remember.
Accordingly, I search the cities,
the far off mists and mountains
and the subterranean rivers
every burning day.
So it won’t surprise you to know
that where I mostly go to find her now
is under the volcano,
the place of endless fire.
It's where us dreamers and those demons
dance with our desire.
Mike T Minehan
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 4:37 PM UTC
Here lies old Hobson, Death hath broke his girt,
And here alas, hath laid him in the dirt,
Or els the ways being foul, twenty to one,
He’s here stuck in a slough, and overthrown.
’Twas such a shifter, that if truth were known,
Death was half glad when he had got him down;
For he had any time this ten yeers full,
Dodg’d with him, betwixt Cambridge and the Bull.
And surely, Death could never have prevail’d,
Had not his weekly cours of carriage fail’d;
But lately finding him so long at home,
And thinking now his journeys end was come,
And that he had tane up his latest Inne,
In the kind office of a Chamberlin
Shew’d him his room where he must lodge that night,
Pull’d off his Boots, and took away the light:
If any ask for him, it shall be sed,
Hobson has supt, and ’s newly gon to bed.
1.8k
as this flame stares,
i stare back
a light losing,
eyes already lost
the sky is breaking darkness and
my finger burns but,
i'm spiralling,
i float.
it's not chaos,
a swifting fire is my guide
a humble shape shifter under the moonlight.
this language it speaks,
i understand
with a pocketful of dreams to burn, and
clouds breathing through my soul
telling me
i'll be on the salty seas at twilight
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 3:16 PM UTC
I stand on a mountain ,
I stood on a hill ,
but even the Napolionics dark clouds of war had nothing on this .
the sheep that were grazing have fled in it’s gaze ,
and even though my cloak wrapped around me from the chill of the night .
I saw from the north did asail the wind darkness like no other ,
as I felt my bones rattle and shake under my skin .
How i wanted to take hold of my mistress summer and bask in her
warmth for just one more night .
She left without a word nor did her lips empress upon mine ,
nor the soft comforts of late evenings did she impress upon my cheek .
Now I await in trepidation and much distress her sister,
this dark woman of whome pestilence awaits ,
and where storm clouds gather .
This cold wind she sends an advent for what is to come .
Hail snow and rain nothing is like these in her sight .
Don’t look into her eyes ,
the man who peddles time cast under her spell and now he stands alone as time stands still .
Look a white dove how it ***** it’s wings against her blackened skies ,.
for in its beak lies a fig ,
and on it’s wings Gods eternal promise,.
herolds the dawn .
How I yearn for a warm bed and a clock to while away this hour .
A dream catcher ,
A shape shifter ,
a net above my head ( to catch these things )
and above all ,
bed .
Pray these things don’t steal the light ,
for my eyes to open and see the mornings sun ...
just once more .
Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 3:36 PM UTC
I’m a verbal chameleon, feeding on and leading onto what comes next.
I’m a lexical shape-shifter, made swifter by the twitter of your vibes,
Your guise,
You guys.
My political agenda is neither right nor left behind.
I’m blind to colour but not colour blind,
I’m not pigeon holed, fully sold or moulded on someone else’s dream.
I’m simply,
Free.
From them,
From you,
From me.
So…
When now becomes nowhere without here and now.
And “unite as one” is paraphrased as a power phrase.
Let’s unite as individuals on separate viduals to overthrow ourselves.
Don’t follow crowns, clowns or crowds.
Don’t follow punishments, covenants or Governments.
Don’t follow Religion.
Don’t follow Science.
And especially,
Don’t follow me
Because I’m a lyrical paradox, toxic and hypnotic to even my own thoughts.
Aug 29, 2010
Aug 29, 2010 at 7:15 PM UTC
in the last century of her life
she returned
in a ship of wisdom and beauty
her entourage of demon hunters
guarded a swarm of hieroglyphics
from a future she had seen
she brought droning strings
of dreams
bridging the time
of her absence
between the first and the final
civilization
i saw her mute smile
radiating the light
of hidden moons
she had passed
her words in a subsonic stream
of childhood memories and
evaporating residue
of the mindwalker era
when pride and rivalry
had made all of man
awestruck minions
of time and space
i felt her ephemeral
veil of tenderness
reverberating our first
encounter in one of those
labyrinthine dimensions
of her starfaring journeys
where she had left me
wandering the ever expanding
orbit of a lonely star
while she was becoming
the supreme shape shifter
descending down
to the surface of our birth
planet and crossing
the eternal echoes
of our minds
[J]
Jun 14, 2010
Jun 14, 2010 at 11:37 AM UTC
Last night
A quiet word...
was trembling
A touch....
hypnotized the senses
It was pitch black....
I went to the kitchen
I drank all I could find,
And slept in the garden.
Last night
I pulled flowers from the garden's ground
And clipped their petals...
It tasted like honey.
From that,
All blended into a kaleidoscopic metamorphosis.
Channels opened,
yet, I could not foresee the end
the world became a dome.
Immortal shape shifter's
danced restlessly...
When I awoke
There was dirt in my hands.
My mouth, had dirt.
I woke up covered in dirt.
But, I can only remember
how I drowned into an deep abyss.
The rest amiss.
In the depths, my outer self became less
In the future, I hope I do not grew thicker skin
Nov 7, 2016
Nov 7, 2016 at 5:46 AM UTC
I haven't been happy
in a long time.
I'm not sure I even
know how to be happy without
being surrounded by other people.
You see I'm in a relationship
and I have never been this happy.
When I'm with him that is.
But I have a problem with
cheating.
There are girls with
fire in their eyes
and flower beds in their
nails and there are guys
with a dark look
that says I won't be able
to walk.
And the only reason I haven't
left my love yet is just that.
Love. I don't know a lot
about it. But I know that
I can't ignore it.
I may be cold, but I am
not heartless.
I have a lack of feeling.
My mom said I have no empathy.
I told her I must be a psychopath.
She just shook her head
and corrected me, sociopath.
Maybe when a man decided he wanted to
break my ***** without my
permission, I think I lost a part
of myself.
I went into my head because my words
were no longer being listened to.
I went to a place where
nothing mattered because I couldn't
stand a place where it did.
I haven't left that place yet.
My therapist says it's
Dissociation disorder. She says I have
PTSD. I have a personality disorder,
and a mental disorder equal to being
bipolar on crack.
So don't tell me that I wasn't *****
Don't tell me I asked for it.
Don't tell me I wanted it.
Don't tell me that **** does
not matter.
Becuase if it didn't it wouldn't
have a name classifying it as something
other than ***
I would be okay. I wouldn't be this
loony case who needs her
medication so that she doesn't
have flashbacks and feel her
wrists being held down again.
I think this explains why I can't
be faithful. I'm lost in a universe
where nothing matters, and nothing
is real. I don't know how to feel
love when it's not by my side
and I think that's why I always need
to be by his side.
Because when I'm alone I don't exist.
I am grey and everything is just a
black hole.
I am a shape shifter
and I don't even know
myself. I don't think anybody
really knows me.
I am liquid that has been
melted in his hot abusive
gaze. And I am mercury.
A girl with firework kisses
said that I was toxic.
So I guess the metaphor fits.
I just wish I understood why
I can't be real.
I feel like Pinocchio and I just
want to be a real boy.
When I am held in someone's arms
and attached to someone else's
lips I am a leech and I'm *******
color out of them hoping
that the feeling of being
alive stays.
But I really wish that I could
just be real
and faithful.
I just want to make him as
happy as he makes me.
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 11:53 AM UTC
I don't understand it.
Everybody want to be a savage.
Upscale and overdramatic
90's mentality, I'm still fightin' madness.
So tell me
What you know about classic?
Better think, before you pop off at the mouth
and do anything drastic!
I never changed
I continue to do me
956 to 323
I got power
I am father to many prodigies
I'm going to stay on top
of the game, until they body me.
So you made a couple of hits
So you qualify as a hitter?
Stop calling yourself a killer
if you ain't about it ni**a
Gotta be outside the box
This is why
You cannot frame me
for any picture!
None of you, about the smoke
but be so quick to burn it all
Just like a swisher!
I cannot face time, rather not waste time.
Most of you get loco
When you be on the liquor
My foundation stands by me.
This is not vengenace, this is vigor!
So stop trying to use my lines
You's a stolen-style shifter
You ******* stolen-line-spitter
I'm not saint.
I rather not be a sinner.
I tell my child
You can do
ANYTHING!
Daddy will always rock with ya!
2021, new era, new me, I am done
******* with you pretenders!
Jul 27, 2021
Jul 27, 2021 at 12:16 PM UTC
you were so beautiful
that you were ugly,
like mercury, you
ominous shape shifter.
i couldn't pinpoint it.
you told me you loved me
but love was just a fallacy;
a promise that couldn't be kept,
an expectation that couldn't be met.
dead stars and bleeding hearts,
landmines and orchestra song,
sun like knives, and
deafening silence;
all of it had never meant
less to me.
perhaps its only when
you'd rather wake up
with a bullet between your teeth
that you really learn
how to live,
how to love
something with
a pulse.
Jun 8, 2012
Jun 8, 2012 at 9:32 AM UTC
A shape shifter.
A transformer.
Everything you fear.
Change.
The unknown is
a scary place,
a scary thing.
Do you know who I am?
Do I know who I am?
Would someone please show me
which home is my place,
which family my own,
which lines I should trace?
Every contour on my face,
every word that I utter.
It is all you.
And that’s scary.
Why does it scare you?
Because I am a stranger, and your homie.
Your son, and your enemy.
I am all that you were,
and all that you will be.
You want to embrace me
as your child, your kin.
But I’m different, a little
too complicated to fit in.
You wish for things to be simple,
the son whose identity is set in stone.
So I travel these unbeaten paths alone -
As you close your eyes to me,
a child who barely knows part of his family.
I look to you to help define me,
and still you refuse to see,
even as your memory is stirred by me.
Your mind pushes me
to the back of your head
but your heart won’t let
you forget who I am,
and so I’ve grown,
the invisible boy,
soon to become
the invisible man.
Some days you simply wonder,
and life seems more an illusion, and
all those heavy questions drive
your mind into diffusion.
Your reason screams “yes,”
while your sleepless conscience
tells you otherwise.
So which is telling truth,
and which is telling lies?
As you struggle to pick,
you start to realize,
you’ve made a wrong choice -
a part of you died.
This choice about me
could never be wise.
So which shall you follow,
your heart, or your head?
Don’t be too quick on the take -
You might make a worse
nightmare of your bed.
To see the unseen
is a complicated thing.
Many have said that
with knowledge comes pain,
And I assure you that
seeing me has consequences.
So you whisper, “ok”
Your curiosity parched
For the knowledge that quenches,
As it tugs at your core,
A million tight wrenches.
I will see you
Is your tardy demand!
And a transient being
Lifts his transient hand.
Where this unveiling takes you,
You intend to land.
You’re facing your demons,
You’re being a man.
So who is behind
the mask, you ask?
It’s me,
An interracial boy.
A melting *** of culture, and color,
A child who won’t accept the word other.
Not molded from one sole identity cast,
Destined for eternity to sculpt my mask.
Aug 31, 2011
Aug 31, 2011 at 1:31 AM UTC
you came, dragging
cardboard shackles in
your wake and fell upon
my floor like the final
messiah.
surrounded by these walls
that I built for you, and
the props that I live by;
a porcelain cat ticking
time on his paws, and
a blue fish swimming laps,
you fold into origami birds
and exhale debris into
the moonlight, sighing
a breath of defeat.
i cannot decipher it.
i remember how you looked
when you were mine,
how you spoke when you
belonged here.
you are strange to me now.
i cannot pinpoint your
watercolor edges nor iron out the
fissures where your smile hides.
i want to take you in my arms
and place you in my bed.
i want to play chopin from memory
for you and carve figures out of wind,
carry you across the threshold
on gilded fingertips;
but you are no longer
mine to form, and
i do not follow.
Jun 8, 2012
Jun 8, 2012 at 12:18 AM UTC
A Ghostly Moon Climbed,
Over A Thick Tree Line,
The Ground Was Covered With Mud,
Adreniline Swam Inside Churning Blood,
A Lip Was Being Bitten,
To Block Back A Scream,
A Story Was Being Written,
Even Though It Was A Dream
Green Eyes Turned To Gold,
Ontop Of Wood,
That Was Rotting,
It Was So Old,
Talons Ripped Through The Moss,
Her Heart Was Being Tossed,
Around In Her Chest,
She Wasn't Human Then,
But She Was At Her Best
A Sly Silhouette,
Crossed Her Path,
She Was Playing Russian Roulette,
But She Faced The Wrath,
She Layed On Her Back,
To Ask For Trust,
Piercing Her Neck,
Teeth Felt Like Tacks,
It Was Hard To Stay Calm
But It Was A Must
The Shadow Realeased Thy Grip,
But It Didnt Let Her Leave Without Blood Drip,
A Cut On Her Sholder,
Left A Scar,
One She Gained Underneath The Stars
She Woke With A Fright,
In The Early Morning Light,
Blankets At The End Of Her Bed,
A Red Hot Pounding In Her Head,
She Looked Down,
And What Did She See?
The Wound On Her Shoulder,
She Had Recived
Sep 1, 2012
Sep 1, 2012 at 7:50 PM UTC
she was a heartbreaker
the storm creator
the shape shifter
broke my heart
on the road
she left me
for Dead
so cold
we had a love affair
which was kinda
sickening from
the beginning
she broke me
saved my life
broke me again
then saved me
broke me for
the last time
a part of me still loves her
she was so addictive
it really hurts
she was a wicked villain
but she looked innocent
angel eyes lookin'
for another victim
but love was all
she truly meant
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 3:50 AM UTC
I hoped to become an eagle
soaring above amber waves of grain
seeking perch in rarefied air
a red-tailed hawk,
or even a garden warbler
would have sufficed
instead I metamorphosed
into a mosquito and found myself
skulking on a fine lady's arm
I could only hope
she wouldn't swat me
before I drank my red full
and took flight into dusk
or returned
to my pitiable simian self,
lice laced and homeless, hunkering
in a cold corner, wishing
I could fly
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 8:50 PM UTC
People tend to forget her
As if she was a chameleon
Blending into conversations
Wearing a shape shifter's skin
She tend to mirror other people
Just to learn how to fit in
But like a mirror, unknowingly
She reflected what was within
A mind teaser, a people reader
She was who she was with
A mixture of absorbed characters
Like a cauldron of characteristics
Feb 13, 2019
Feb 13, 2019 at 12:10 AM UTC
With my blue wide eyes, I see nothing but airplanes in the sky.
I reach up with my sun hands, trying to feel the warmth of the earth, but all I receive is cold world news. I consider myself a shape shifter, not able to camera talk since my message appears weak. I play my cards & quarters, ignoring the warning sign, about getting lost. Who knows who cares, words I carry deep in my heart, trying to live my cubism dream. There are stranger things in this world, that are held together with a sticky thread. It was always you & I, we just didn’t know it for so long, unable to move forward because of our heavy feet. We lay and look up at the ceilings, only to see a black spot millions of miles away. Riding breakers out into the sea, it's hard to believe only three months went by since I met you and you met me. Sometimes we get caught holding our black balloons, filled with feelings larger than a wooly mammoth. Remember our trip to Mt. Washington? We had that white stuff from Columbia, a week I’ll never forget. Reminded me of our first concert together at the The Bowery. It was in our Gorilla Manor, where we got Hummingbirds drunk, for no particular reason. We are nothing more than Local Natives, coinciding in a world too small, for the adventurists living inside us all.
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 3:35 PM UTC