Wednesday Poetry Blogging

To Mary Shelley

O Monster mine, that life were here
In your dead eyes bringing fear.
To give you voice, so like a lizard
Croaking to its scaly mate.
In the slimy bog disconsolate!
Voice as a howling winter blizzard!
And your brow broad . . .
As the . . . sky.
Taken from a poor dead guy.

Monster mine, come to life soon,
This quest has taken me so far;
Tonight under the clouded moon,
With lightning from the western star
Thou, monster art art to me.

Oh, monster mine, when life is thine
The Castle echoes, "Frankenstein."


Alas, another pastiche*, modeled after a love poem** by Percy Bysshe Shelley, written to his wife Mary in 1818, the year her famous novel was published.

Copyright JazzBumpa.  All rights reserved.  Wrongs, too.
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* Composed rather spontaneously*** on 8/17/09.
** (Sigh) Is nothing sacred? Actually -- no.
*** Yeah, I've still got it.**** Whatever "it" is.
**** Maybe I missed a vaccination.