Camouflaged and Crowned
divide and conquer
colonize
do it with rows
of spring budding
trees and shrubs
jacaranda, lilacs, and wisteria
time to auger
buttress foundations
nurture
mycelium networks
with verdant whispers
deepening connections
encourage
vines
to climb
entwine
diversify
our containment
cultivate the canopy
let it spread throughout
nimbus and cirrus
soothe
overworked brows
with a dappled reign
of the ever-lasting
cosmic empyreal
scent your edicts
on a petal papyrus breeze
scroll murmuration in curlicue
periwinkle and indigo
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
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
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.
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:)