I, Man!

A man thinks himself a god... A Graphic Story Poem

~I, Man~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~†~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



I deemed I'd do much better than my God above, Himself,

I sought the Master's volumes out gathering dust upon the shelf.

 Their supple skin and weathered feel brought an aching heart release,

t'was I knew why no one should die,  my mentor's shared belief.



Sketched body parts were works of art, I thumbed through page by page,

these scribblings in old manuals drawn in scientific sage.

Instructions there, I knew -- beware! -- yet I continued, all the more,

 this grisly work, where dangers lurked, completing ghastly chores.

I secured the freshest deadest meat my monies could supply.

A local man, of broadest span, yet one too young to die.

I studied all of the passages so carefully scribed in ink,

set about, dispelling doubt, a corpse could truly think.



My master dead, I feared with dread; I'd surely botched his work,

when last we tried, our creation died after it had gone berserk.

Yet, I prepared most tenaciously each vile device required,

to create a living, breathing man from death; my sole desire.

My assistant brought things I sought, fresh bodies everyday --

to my delight; I'd stockpiled right -- choice organs along the way.

My secluded lab was dank and drab, yet blood flowed vivid red.
I diced and sliced, paid a steep price, for bringing back the dead.



With muttered prayers, I stitched with care each alabaster limb.

The torso I chose had known few woes; determination dim.

heavy-handed; this work demanded, perfection for creation,

a sculpted nose, creative throes, my greatest expectation.






Choosing a poet's brain, the sutures skeined from sternum to its head,

my scalpel blade assured t'was staid to reanimate the dead.

Sutured cessations, discolorations, would diminish soon, with time,

I looked down with awe at what I saw, my creation -- so divine!



Jacob's ladders hummed; electricity strummed, O', exhilaration!

My senses numbed; my heartbeat drummed with great anticipation.

Electrodes placed along the face, whilst affixed on massive chest,

Switched everything on, when came the dawn, yet still, I could not rest...








Ozone fizzled; potions sizzled, as charged lightning took command,

laid low by death; it took deep breaths, then struggled once to stand.

With jubilation, ecstatic gyrations, surely meant to gloat,

As I inched closer, losing composure, it seized me by the throat.



“Why would you kill me?" I cried in vain, “'Twas I created you!”

Catching a foul stench,  hands unclenched, opaque eyes stared icy blue.

So very slow, spoken softly, low, that I could but scarcely hear,

“Father?” it whispered -- my sanity blistered, as he slowly drew me near...

Its ghastly face, so stitched and laced, from sutures sewn by my hand,

drooped in sadness, my mind toyed with madness; he now rose to stand.

“Yes!” I cried, “You are my son, you'd take my life as yours begins?”

Dead eyes brightened, grip tightened, it spoke " “Father- I man, and sin!”





~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~†~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note

Think of these types of poems as a graphic novel of sorts. Of course, the poem is written far before the first picture or animation is ever thought about. It is the words which should always drive the work...

Pleasant Screams...

Reviews

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

To me this is a n epic ode to one of my favorite books, Frankenstein. But with a more expanded look into the creature and its feelings.

[PloughBoy]

Thank you, Rock And Roll Cowboy, and you're absolutely right. I meant this story poem to be read as if Victor's Frankenstein's own son had attempted to pick up his work, years after his death, although I never mention the family name. So in essence, it is meant to be a continuation of Mary Shelly's famous work. I'm very glad you enjoyed it, and I sincerely appreciate you sharing your thoughts with me on the poem.

[The Rock And Roll Cowboy(REBEL WITH A CAUSE)]

I read a five part boo series by Dean Kootz called Frankenstien, it is bout Franekstein and his monster alive in the modern day. Really loved it.

[PloughBoy]

I will most definitely check that out. Thanks for the tip! :)

[AnnD]

very good I would read more you need to be publish you are very polished & graphic.

[PloughBoy]

Thank you very much for you kind comments, AnnD. I sincerely appreciate them. I am currently working with a publisher to get my first book sold titled Screams from a Darkened Room. This poem, along with several others, and short horror tales as well, will be included in the book.

Thanks so much again!:)