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Holly Feb 20
I know you thought
reviving me
would fix the problems
that lay between us.
That if you
collected enough
pieces of me
that broke over time,
you could put them
back together again
perfectly.
But those broken
shards
were not pretty,
and they do not fit right.
You have reanimated
a gruesome monster
in a body
similar to mine.
I am cold
and terrifying
and I will ruin you
until you are nothing
but a corpse
beneath my fingertips.
I wish I could be
human enough
for you,
but I am not alive
Inside
anymore.
There is nothing left to me
but flesh
and ****** hands
and an empty chest
I will never exist in
again.
lila Dec 2019
The song plays.
the air is hot, heavy, buzzing,
my head is spinning.
We wade through
sea of people
I am pushed hard into metal fence,
I pull out my camera,
he kneels before me.

God reaches out his hand to puny mortal girl and
I am Mary's monster.
I am electric,
I am alive for the first time.
Finally the fear does not eat me whole.
about my first time going to a festival with my friend and photographing Cage the Elephant
Lily Oct 2019
At the end, my hand
Nor my fingers trembled as
I grasped her pale neck.
I recently entered this in a Halloween haiku contest and wanted to share it with you guys :)
nick armbrister Apr 2019
Era's Icon
The man had a certain look
He worked in films
Doing hundreds of roles

Never making it big
Till he was seen
Eating a meal in the canteen

'I can do wonders with your face...'
The words of the guide
Who set in motion events

Something more than special
Creating the icon of the era
The Stein was brought to life

Becoming more than a B-Movie
Or image in words
Lifted from the page

Boris Karloff became the best
Nobody had those looks
Or presence on screen

Or a hundred other attributes
The icon on which others were judged
Now remembered in film

In art and tattoos
The best of the best...
...Frankenstein

It all started with a meal
And those words:
'I can do wonders with your face...'
Callie Zeph Feb 2019
We talked again tonight,
Not talking - messaging,
It's like people forget how to talk to one another nowadays.
Rarely such a thing of picking up the phone and calling a friend or an interest
We type, type, type, giving varying degrees of attention
It makes it so easy to misinterpret how interested the other person is
Every little thing is expected to have ten times more meaning than intended
And people wonder why relationships in younger generations often don't work very well
Modern relationships are pieced together like the modern Prometheus, with mixed intentions in all the right places but with conflicting commitment tearing it apart
Strange how my mind wanders this way
Rowan S Jan 2019
I fear you
Hyde hiding in plain sight
Jekyll murdered by his creation
His ambition
Gone the way of the monster
Victor's supposed victory
The Jekyll and Hyde/monster archetype shows up a decent amount in some earlier poems of mine, but I don't agree with it anymore. I think it is easier to believe in some kind of hidden, dualistic, "evil" that forces my hand in situations. I simply don't feel like this anymore.
Shay Nov 2018
Dark rotting skin
Bright yellow eyes
A stitch on the right side of his eye
That was the last time,
I saw my own beloved
Frankenstein.
I’d thrown back my head and let out  
that cackle
But I didn’t realize that that candelabra
The lit one
was so close
And my head went
Bosh!
Sponto jumped up
Arms raised and ready
Ready to clobber me
And Hilary
To my left looked at me and screamed
Immobile except for her face stretched by
distress and fear

I’d watched that horrendous
De Niro version of Frankenstein that afternoon
And everyone was screaming at the monster
I remembered those scenes now
And I understood
I stamped out my burning head quickly
Before I got hit
I learned a lesson that day.
The spot of hair, you know
Never did grow back right.
Girard Tournesol Oct 2018
Dancing with Her
     Shimmering ballroom light
Holding Her hand
     Hoping She thinks She might
Frankenstein’s Bride
     Hauntingly lilting sway
Eyes loving eyes
     Dancing the night away

Quick cold Her lips
     Pressing upon my own
Somewhere my love
     Years of my life have flown
Tomorrow’s song
     Echoing from the past
Dear life so long
     Living it to the last

Tomorrow’s song
     Resting in peace my love
Dancing no more
     Dreaming the undreamed of
Somewhere my love
     Into that long good night
Tomorrow’s song        
      . . .
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