I Monster Poem by Thoughts of a Single Man

The pain that had dragged my suspended recognition
was singed over the raking coals
of a deserted desert that burned hot in the mental plain
there was no sun no air no rain
just the gray clouds that hung in the air
and the faint trickles of the drops of despair
I was there
in the dark with no sound except the beating heart
the inner parts of me where comprised of riddled fame
that navigation of the torn frame
of man no longer existing
so there in the vast blackened void
the lighting of the gods struck the lifeless torso
and in this the man was reanimated
but not as he was before
there were no chords of loving bliss
no gentle whispers in the heaving mist
just the unearthly roar
and thus the monster was born
and through this the legend was warped
and written of the man who was no longer smitten
by loves zesty sting
no longer wanting for such feisty things
just the recumbent of revenge
the dark avenger
going after those who had left their scars
on his marked heart
in the beginning his creator marveled at him
in the semblance of his gifted art
first that he had given him life
secondly that he had done his part
but was unprepared for the sanctioned sections
that left him in anguish
the sorrow and the strife of the withered limbs
that struck the bark of his tree of life
for he had no child and no wife
no longer licking in the wounds
of this so called communion of the family gathering
he lumbered free in the plains of existence
knowing no halt of resistance to his bludgeoning rage
so he walked forth
seeking to remedy those who had done him wrong
silently he vied with no out let of thought or song
never basking in the flurry of dawn
only seeking the rich dark of night
for he had been slighted
damned and cursed
cleaved in twain by the wretched hand of fate
that delivered him a sullied solemn mate
that spat in the face of his gifted love
and left him to sip from the chalice of bitter hate
for he had become stained by the regrets of decisions made
torn miracles that left their signature on his soul
so alone and so very cold
exiting for the anger that bended him to his core
may they suffer forever more
but before he could exact his vengeance upon the world
he saw in the clearing a single item
an instrument of salvation
the road to the path of elation
just a simple pen
that he pulled from the mire sodden in a single thought
and then it began
the dam burst free and the words came forth
flooding his cringing brain
easing the pain
and he was struck for a second time
by the heaving bolt of mighty Zeus
and was redefined in the essence of the tingling muse
and the monster that had never grinned
broke free from the witching sins
and slowly became the man that was to be known
as the earthly poet
the writer of the endless phrases
the artful dodger in the senseless mental mazes
of the unspoken oath of the feasting scribe
and there came a calm
from the ink that flowed from the open palm
and his eyes became softer in their view
and so he was created anew
to leave his mark on the hearts of man
rather than shave them spun in the pummeling blows
of his heavy hands
no longer a demon now just the writing hand
yet something more
for all the trappings are but a pox
before they are born from the well unopened pain
thus they are baked to leave their stain on the empty pages
and as for me
I have a wealth that in unending
so the pages will have a forever in these phrases
for there is no end to the verbiage that I create
that is initiated and infiltrated by that of what I think
yet at the ebbing tide of the silent night
merges with the summoning shore
I can still hear the tumultuous moan
of the beast that roamed alone
and I feel the stirring of the nod
in the mobbing monster in me
though I can never let him live again or be free
for in the end
laid hidden in the deep cavern of the heart
I still know that I am in the monster
and the monster is in me

Thoughts of a Single Man 2012tm