Get Your Premium Membership

Sonnet 14, Part 3 of 3

Listen to poem:
11. They came to devour and sin. I was briefed by a cornucopia of beings: From Torchwood, ARGUS, SHIELD and their kin; The Talamasca, The Shop and MiB Greens; A BPRD agent who was burning in Hell; The Syndicate, Consortium, Watchers and Trust; The Illuminati brought a golden bell; C.L.I.T.O.R.I.S., MHI (such knowledge robust). The collider at CERN had opened the rift. A nanoscopic tear in a monstrous dimension. Worshipers, ever vigil, exploited that gift. Now we must, utterly, curtail their ascension. Then into the house she entered, shrugging. There was a kiss and a hugging. 12. There was a kiss and a hugging. Rescued from a cult in Ipswitch. Her demeanor, ethereal, bugging. She slept with a peculiar twitch. My angst and attention will have to wait For monster judication and portal castration. Outside, we gathered, fearing our fate -- Awful things floated like blimps in formation. By whatever means, we search in teams: Arkham, Innsmouth, Dunwich and Salem; CERN, Antarctica, the Nan Madol dreams; Jerusalem's Lot, Beelitz-Heilstätten Asylum; Transylvania and the Isle of Dead Creeple. We worship a circular steeple. 13. We worship a circular steeple. Time repeats when trapped in a vortex. I'm driven to Brooklyn in a VW diesel. A Tesla device in a Gravesend complex. Bug-eyed tenants, oblivious, contemplate. In the boiler room, it whirs and hums. A competent team attempts to recalibrate Until a big blobbish Shoggoth comes. Then two ... and three. We scatter in fright. The Shoggoths engorge and enfold the device; But, not before a self-destruct is set alight. The object destroyed; but, at such a steep price. These things are here to herd the sheeple. Soylent Green is made of people. 14. Soylent Green is made of people. The rift at CERN has closed at last! A major cleanup, and a mess of fecal. Civilians clueless through a MiB blast. The sun is out, the sky sublime. I drive, antsy, anticlimactic, anticipating. A return to normal space-time. Sad goodbyes. Partnerships dissipating. I hold her hand on the couch of gloom. Stroking her witchy, Veronica Lake hair. A warm wind kisses the flowers in bloom. The radio's singing, cable's back on the air. She hisses with a tooth-decaying smell. Ripples in warm sunbeams dwell. 15. Ripples in warm sunbeams dwell. A soul in flux begins to stall. I meditate on a living well. I pray the night may never fall. A flicker blurs beyond my eye. Softly she sits upon my knee. A many-legged thing I spy, My silent lady tries to flee, It's a beautiful world we live in. A hole in space needs plugging, They came to devour and sin, There was a kiss and a hugging, We worship a circular steeple, Soylent Green is made of people.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

Date: 6/11/2016 8:38:00 AM
A very enjoyable write and an epic journey you've written. Your rhymes are great, and excuse the crude expression, but da@! the iamb. Enjoyed it thoroughly (big Sci-Fi and fantasy fan), loved the last line.
Login to Reply
Arnone Avatar
Tom Arnone
Date: 7/23/2016 7:21:00 PM
Sorry for this belated reply; but, thanks and I'm glad you enjoyed the sonnet(s). :-)
Date: 5/30/2016 9:58:00 PM
Xool inclusion of Soylent Green Tom. I'm not impressed with CERN and their "God Particle", although many dimensions of reality, energy, and physics do exist which humans have difficulty perceiving and comprehending, which is the value I find in your crown sonnet of awakening. Big creativity in this work Tom...J.A.B.
Login to Reply
Arnone Avatar
Tom Arnone
Date: 5/31/2016 8:39:00 AM
"My fears melted away and in their place came acceptance. All this vast majesty of creation-it had to mean something. And then I meant something, too. Yes, smaller than the smallest-I meant something, too. To God, there is no zero. I still exist." ATTRIBUTION: Friedrich Durrenmatt (1921-1990), Swiss dramatist, novelist, essayist, Jack Arnold, and Trans. by Gerhard P. Knapp (1995). Romulus the Great, act I (1956). Also spoken by Robert Scott Carey (Grant Williams) at the conclusion of The Incredible Shrinking Man (1956).
Date: 5/29/2016 6:50:00 PM
Tom, this is a brilliant story, satire, tribute to HPL, and all around winner. A true pleasure to read!
Login to Reply
Arnone Avatar
Tom Arnone
Date: 5/29/2016 7:58:00 PM
Thanks, Tom.