No Monsters Here

They amputated her hope
while she served
in The Horn of Africa.

After she returned home, a babe
fed on milk he thought Free,
spat in her face
and she lost the right side of her vision.

Gut nibbled by masses of parasites,
heart choked
by yesteryears in her throat,
she said to the dark eyes
touching her skin through the hurt,

“I
died
more than eighteen months ago.
Haven’t they noticed me gone?
Can none feel the lifeless beating
of an emptied soul?”

A jolt
burned the center of her chest,
nearly breaking her back.

.

But nearly never accomplished enough;
for with her eyes un-blurring, post-zapped,
a now known dark gaze
aimed a Taser center-mass.

“You are with us, Sergeant.”

“I’m nearly sure you’re mistaken,”
she said,
and drifted back into the dark.

.

With hope and vision
stitched back on,
she looked at her face in dark mirrors.
“You run this place on your own, Doc?
It seems big and remote for just you.”

The Doctor leaned into the Sergeant’s face,
shining a little light into sandy eyes.
“There is me and Iris, my assistant.
She went to market for supplies.”

“Warn her, Doc. Before she hears all my scars;
people don’t take well to monsters
in their home.

“I see no monsters here,” said the Doctor
of the intent-full dark eyes.

One stitched soul was brought back from the dead.

Process Note (mildly on steroids): Last night, I asked my Facebook friends to “help me choose the author on whose work I [would] base my 22nd cruellest month poem”: Edgar Allan Poe, Mary Shelley or Sheridan Le Fanu. When I woke up, Poe and Shelley were tied. However, a member of Team Shelley showed considerable (if devious) initiative, and cheated to break the tie. I know, my Wicked Luvs, one should never reward such questionable behavior, but… Shelle looked so adorable in her disguising mustache. I just couldn’t resist. Poe gained some more votes a few hours after that, but I had already written the Shelley poem (and had gone back to sleep, in order to let it set before jolting it to life). But worry not, dear Poe lovers, you can take comfort in “Hair, Teeth, Poe”, or in the next Poe piece I pen (it won’t be long… probably). The Taser idea was shamelessly stolen from Ben R Marsten *runs away, so Ben can’t catch her*.

***
for NaPoWriMo with Magaly Guerrero 2015, Day 22 –  Plant a Poem in a Tale: Create a poem set within a story you read.

Frankenstein by Escalonilla...“Frankenstein”, by Escalonilla…
via

25 thoughts on “No Monsters Here

  1. “I see no monsters here,” said the Doctor
    of the intent-full dark eyes.

    They had better be warned! One cannot be really sure of the motives! Great story-line Magaly!

    Hank

    • Motivations are obscure things, aren’t they? Certain people become very adept at masking them… They can be as elusive and as subjective as the definition of monster from one head to another, methinks.

  2. Shelley works just fine, I think–though I occasionally thought I got a sniff of tell-tale heart jolt as well, or maybe the disintegration of M. Valdemar…nonetheless, we find that all is stitched in time, and nearly evil is never, ever evil enough. I loved this, Magaly, the sandy eyes, the line ‘I’m nearly sure you’re mistaken.” Just the best dark sweet draft of monsters I’ve had all day.

  3. “But nearly never accomplished enough” That line is haunting. It makes me wonder what would be enough, or is it all ready too much? The kindness of the doctor in the next to last stanza makes me think that it is kindness that is truly needed to make things “enough”. Thought provoking.

    • I think you’ve described the dance between “enough” and “too much” and “who gets to decide” rather well. And yes, I, too, think that at the end, kindness is the only rescue… some of it, directed within.

  4. Oh yes, the moustachioed profile tricks all hehe… I cheated for the greater good, I have read this over and over, bite sized images stitched together so the morsels make the reanimation of something if not a monster, then what(?) stuff that dreams are made of, deep dark and nightmarish! Put down the taser, and take a bow, bravo Ms Wicked, bravo (and that apple… Delicious) 🙂

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