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| Frankenstein ~ Mary Shelley Art by Lynd Ward (1934 Edition) Fair Use Principles |
After the fifth season of his infinite
aloneness at the end of the world,
the man without woman
reached deep into the confines
of his cramped bonsai soul and created
the gods as hard-boiled,
invisible magicians, travellers
of a separate reality, given to jest.
He longed for them to worship him
as antidote to self-loathing and fear
on this last night of the earth, prayed
that one pleiadian seed would take root
in dark matter and a spiritmate grow
to warm his blood and bones.
No voice spoke from the stillness:
no whispers of I see you, man of humankind,
no eyes to ignite an ocean, no chronicle
for the book of his own burial rites.
Love it.
ReplyDeleteThank you for coming over to read!
DeleteThe thing about creating life, is that for something to be truly alive it must think and want for itself, no matter what it is its creator intended for it. The very premise of creating life destined to stay in a rigid boundary is flawed.
ReplyDeleteThank you for your insight, Rommy.
DeleteA stunning poem, Kerry! I love the phrase ‘cramped bonsai soul’ and these lines are powerful:
ReplyDelete‘on this last night of the earth, prayed
that one pleiadian seed would take root
in dark matter and a spiritmate grow
to warm his blood and bones’.
Loneliness is a cold place.
Yes, indeed it is. Thank you, Kim.
DeleteI really love this in the complete dystopian sense... the thought of such loneliness for a lost and lonesome soul... I felt that creating takes a bit of your soul
ReplyDeleteHow very true. I am glad you enjoyed this poem, Bjorn.
DeleteMaking someone love you doesn't work. Even if you created them we still aren't seeing forced love, even respect. Figure out how to force or ignore freewill or be without it like a robot it could be done.
ReplyDelete..
I guess so.. Thanks, Jim.
DeleteWoooooooow! "reached deep into the confines of his cramped bonsai soul" on the last night of earth. Maybe if the last surviving human was a woman, the story might have a new beginning. Smiles. A very cool poem, Kerry.
ReplyDeleteHa! Good point, Sherry!
DeleteGoodness that kind of loneliness is so dark... I read between the lines into many shades of that darkness as so many creatures search for spirit mates... this is a great poem, Kerry.
ReplyDeleteSo glad you read between the lines, Rajani.
DeleteSuch a powerful verse, Kerry — this picture of gloom is heart-rending. This loneliness eventually becomes oppressive to the senses. I love your diction in this bit particularly: "reached deep into the confines/of his cramped bonsai soul and created/the gods as hard-boiled".
ReplyDeleteThe book titles made me look in word pairings in new ways, so I loved this exercise.
DeleteWhat a powerful poem!
ReplyDelete"No voice spoke from the stillness:
no whispers of I see you, man of humankind,
no eyes to ignite an ocean, no chronicle
for the book of his own burial rites."
Incredible.
Thank you!
DeleteLoneliness and longing is so amazingly expressed here... Wow.
ReplyDeleteSo pleased those emotions came through strongly. Thanks, Margaret.
DeleteThis tale of creation is told with mystique and an air of alone-ness. Good one!
ReplyDelete