NaPM April 3, 2018

[Todd]

Rules: Write a poem for national poetry month on the topic or form described. Each poem should appear as a separate reply to this thread. The goal is to, at the end of the month have written 30 poems for National Poetry Month. 


Topic 3: Write a poem inspired by a misunderstood monster.
Form : any
Line requirements: 8 lines or more

Questions?

[RiverNotch]

the end of history


annie works for the government
per her tita's recommendation.
money's big on paper,
none of which they'll dish out
(the managers, not the clients).
the clients give more than needed,
and it makes annie uncomfortable --
'well honey', says her tita,
'you shouldnta taken that art degree.'
'you need the experience', says mama.
'i won't for your anime' -- papa.

she tells me she'll go to korea.
i tell her she'll make it big.
'there's eight of us friends met this evening
and you're the one with a job.'
she laughs as we turn the corner.
'but you were the one with a future!
you played with all the big words...'

'and they're bigger than how they sounded --
in fact, i'm still sounding them now.
in fact, i'm all out of breath.'

annie works for the government
on her tita's recommendation.
salary's big on paper,
none of which they'll cash out:
the managers, not the clients.
the clients give more than needed,
and it makes annie uncomfortable --
'well honey', says her tita,
'you shouldnta taken that art degree.'
'you need the experience', says mama.
'you'll pay for your anime' -- papa.

she tells me she'll go to korea.
i tell her she'll make it big.
'there's eight of us friends met this evening
and you're the one with a job.'
she laughs as we turn the corner.
'but you were the one with a future!
you played with all the big words...'

'and they're bigger than how they sounded --
in fact, i'm still sounding them now.
in fact, i don't have any time.'

[Tracy Mitchell]

Methodist
Church
approved:
gluten
free
Body 
of 
Christ
wafers

[Todd]

Methodist
Church
approved:
gluten
free
Body 
of 
Christ
wafers

Teagan, (original monster choice), I think (though I'm not a Methodist) that they believe in a form of consubstantiation--though they may not like the word. Since the nature of the elements isn't changed into the actual body and blood--they can probably sidestep the issue. If they were Orthodox or Catholic--it would probably be a much stronger issue.

I digress really cool idea.

[Knot]

Modern Dining


You think it's easy
sourcing the ingredients?
Everyone wants a curry
these days, all those spices
and garlic. Maybe I'm just old
fashioned, too set in my ways,
It is so hard to even to contemplate
change after all this time.
Not to mention the constant pressure
to recycle. Do you have any idea
how hard it is to find just the right bin
- which colour is it, how big
should it be? - to arrange for reliable,
regular, collections? Have you tried
phoning the council?
You need to be immortal
as you'll spend forever on hold.
Minions ain't what they used to be.
And whilst it still satisfies,
there's no denying that, after a while
the craving for flavour, for variety,
for anything else, becomes a torment
from the depths of hell.
It's worse than being a vegan.
The things I'd do for bacon
would make your blood run cold.

[Todd]

Creature

It was not an artist that stitched my face
into this graveyard patchwork; nor, a sculptor
who formed bones around a stagnant quilt
of ever-stretching skin. Even my breath
was the whim of lightning, and I still jitter
down these empty roads.
I bear no image, but I will be like him.
All who see me will stain their lips 
with his name. Until 
it is finally only my name
and he is forgotten.

[dukealien]

Mind-Mom


Oh, you warm and single-jawed
children of my mind and sting!
Fear my eyelessness, the drool
from my lesser, metal jaws—
think my braincase elegance
meaningless, a freak of chance.
Call me “monster,” will you, men?
Use your brains, suppress your awe!
Think!  You know that I must have
warm, mammalian flesh to grow
my dear babies, tempting them
from their eggs and down your throats;
then to grow their intellect
they must learn a functioning
mind to form into their own.
Think!  Why don’t they warm to mere
pigs or monkeys, cows or sheep?
I need thinking hosts for them,
so I made you, gave you fire—
you, my babies’ nursing-place;
I left you to multiply,
and provide them thinking hosts
when you reached the place I chose.
You repay my vital gifts
with abuse of that same fire—
nuking me from orbit... ha!
We shall meet again, you brains
clothed in tasty thinking-flesh.
Not for nothing was it named:
I am your “Prometheus!”

Alien, Aliens, Prometheus

[just mercedes]

Jacob’s story


I was jumped in an alley. I thought
I was going to die, he was so strong,
my attacker, I struggled and heaved,
unwilling to give up my life. Sweat
and tears scored my cheeks, my lips
tasted salt where I longed for honey,
we slipped against each other like
parts of the same primeval monster.
Did I become him? I heard him speak.

‘My name means struggle. You worship me,
sacrifice for me your fathers, your wives,
your children, your friends.You bring me
your salty blood.

In my name you will lay waste to
cultures and civilzations, bring death
to schools, to the marriage and birthing rooms
of nations.

For me, you will steal and lie, assassinate
and plot against the world outside your tribe.

From you I will perfect monsters
who adore me, who kill for the ancient ecstasy
of salting the land with blood.

I am Israel. I am you.’

[Tiger the Lion]

Troll

My God Maria,
I am crippled at the news.

In my grand imaginings 
I have swum to Santiago 
and returned with your mother
on my back.

You should have seen it.

I pray 
his hand 
on your shoulder blade
meant something.

[kolemath]

You're all monsters

You know the earth like a blind bull or
numb milk cow.
You block the wind like a concrete erection,
Inside the subway,
little monsters running free inside.
You set fire to rain forests
For the bull fields,
For the cows,
For the pavement.


But you're all smiles,
All tools, houses, apartments, Sky-eyed,
Full- moon unaware.

[Richard]

Vlad

Bela Lugosi ruined me,
made my visage into a costumed cliche,
his hypnotic eyes dethroning me.
He was a creature of the night,
but I was a warrior, who impaled his enemies.
He is immortalized in black and white,
while my hands are forever stained red.

The day he died, my dead heart twinged with joy.
Although I am loathed to admit,
I respect his commitment to that cape.

[CRNDLSM]

I saw a man crack the shell 
while his victim tried to yell,
and each time his hammer fell,
as if waiting for a bell
to end his nightmare, his hell,
silence thickened in his cell.
Why, why was he so compelled
to cut out his own tongue? He'll never tell.

[Leanne]

The Countess

There is much talk 
about blood and beauty
but I - woman, mother, lover -
am not swayed by such shallow
desires

I was beautiful when
I saw my father sew a thief
into the belly of a dying horse,
then return to table for a feast

I was beautiful when
my lover was castrated
and fed to dogs by the man
I was leaving home to marry

I was beautiful when 
my soldier husband practiced
the defeat of his enemies
upon my flesh

and yes, I was beautiful when
the young girls began their procession
through my home, through my bed
and through my teeth

a woman is nothing but blood and beauty
until both are drained from her
and she is lost to history

I am not lost.  I am Elizabeth.

[Lizzie]

Are you there, human? It's me, Nessie.

I'm not avoiding you, I'm introverted.
You say reclusive like it's a bad thing.
I've got things to do!
I can't spend all century
courting the surface for your attention.
Don't blame me you're unprepared,
choosing a filter sufficiently spooky –
wait, watch. See me rise
from mystery and mist,
a Brigadoon of myth and sea.

[Keith]

A face in the clouds

With the creak of a worn out
weathervane, wind chimes warn us.
As a dream catcher dances on the porch,
fields flatten under footsteps,
barn doors are forced to slam and splinter.

Branches reach through shattered glass
to scatter children like minnows
gathered in by bigger fish,
they wait and hide at the bottom.

The chewed up piles of wooden towns
spat broken with unearthly growls.
With every Jekyl a Mr Hyde,
rage is tempered over time.

As venom leaves the black veined skies,
our monsters face thins out.
A warmer blue, a smile that’s viewed
through tinted shade and dappled leaf
to cloud itself in shifting forms,
a summer breeze forgets the storm.