Camouflaged and Crowned , New Poetry, Digital Art and Photography, Monster, Thy Fallen Angel, Poetry Revisited

in #poetry3 years ago (edited)

Camouflaged and Crowned

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if you must separate
divide and conquer


colonize


do it with rows
of spring budding
trees and shrubs


jacaranda, lilacs, and wisteria


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allow roots
time to auger
buttress foundations


nurture
mycelium networks
with verdant whispers
deepening connections


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encourage

vines
to climb
entwine

diversify
our containment


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cultivate the canopy
let it spread throughout
nimbus and cirrus

soothe
overworked brows
with a dappled reign
of the ever-lasting
cosmic empyreal

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scent your edicts
on a petal papyrus breeze
scroll murmuration in curlicue
periwinkle and indigo


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if you must rule
robe yourself in blue
camouflaged and crowned
with petals and cumulus

your ultimate fealty
sworn to the horizon

allow the Earth
to embrace the sky


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Monster, Thy Fallen Angel


I do know that for the sympathy of one living being, I would make peace with all. I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you could not believe. If cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.

The monster, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein



Poor monster maligned
given not a name
your creator, your sire
a doctor most insane

To overcome death
its oblivion, his goal
overcome death he did
with rebirth abominable

Frankenstein did flee
a parent most horrific
abandoning you, his child
grotesque and rejected

What had he spawned
Pygmalion malformed
scrounged hodgepodge
a mewling newborn

In nature versus nurture
you lost on both score
no solace followed
not an ounce of succour

They saw your outside
reflection of our dark within
you were clearly no Adam
but a shorn angel thrown, fallen

Still if there were but one
to love, cherish in return
not a child of woman of course
but an Eve of science born

Alas …

No macabre Eden for you
vengeance, an eye for an eye
Frankenstein aborted your love
you then cut short his bride

The not-so-good doctor
his metaphorical pitchfork
hounded, hunted you down
to the barren Siberian North

Revenge was not given
death his ironic reward
creator, father, and foe
the grief was all yours

Your icy days ended
in fire, self-cremated
a child alone, bereft
created but unwanted

Hollywood cast your lot
with the vampyre, the lupine
but Mary and I agree
you were a creation divine


I ought to be your Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel.

The monster, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein



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A shout to @tezmel for the inspiration on this one. Please visit her post .

***

Words and Images are my own.

Camouflaged and Crowned was first published today.

Monster, They Fallen Angel is published in Monsters, Avatars, and Angels and is available in paperback or digital through amazon and your local libraries and bookstores. Click on any title below to further explore and support my writing.


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And just like that, we become springs of words and life. 🙌🌻

Thank you so much for the shout out... It is humbling to be merged poetry and this amazing community!

I am hoping we can build our community in that way. Poets go so well together:)

There is beauty in the withering. I like your pics :)

Thanks. Paul. There is indeed beauty in all stages of nature.

A poetic turn of phrase ... 'beauty in the withering'


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Nice and rehived :-)

Thanks so much:)