Frankenstein Poems - Poems about Frankenstein

It’s hubris, I suppose, down in my soul, To think the ends will justify all means. And thinking that all rules are drab and dull I end up being blown to smithereens. But truly I know what is for the best! Thus, whispers little demons in my ears. Consider it a type of sacred quest And follow your own heart and not...

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You’d recreate a military hero? Macarthur, maybe? Nimitz? Pershing? Sherman? Or would you choose a leader from the past? Suppose you went for Mussolini – Nero – (I can’t remember what they called that German): but stuff like this is happening today - (the things that they can do with DNA!) One rumour is, we’re getting Ethel Merman! You’d vote for Conway Twitty?...

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I feel nothing, and everything. An empty echo. Trapped, screaming but yawning. I go unheard. There is a spark, A promise of reanimation In endless pools of blue. I can die and live A thousand lifetimes In an interlocked gaze… But what happens When the jolt No longer Reanimates The dead. ...

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You’ve really done it this time Frank. You’ve made the worst mess ever seen - A monster, hideous and rank, A disaster, vile and obscene. For yourself, what d’ya have to say? Well, says Frank, “I did it my way”....

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We know the dire story of Jekyll and Hyde Where a man’s potion made his nature divide. In real life, it’s not easy to separate Ourselves like eggs and potatoes on a plate. If man is made in God’s image, then it’s fate That God has some evil, and men replicate. Everyone, everywhere, has a bit of both - There’s evil in...

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I never trashed my convictions She told me what I wanted to hear To conceal and concede People say take 2nd place I can't watch a player take my roll Settle for atrophic friend happy to be at the beginning of the book called If I had a wish Was I head over or over my head who knew Did I...

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Roses are red, goblins are green Just like my buddy, Frankenstein Well, it’s February fourteenth And I don’t have a valentine So let’s declare it Valloween And now, my love, won’t you be mine? ...

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Take the dead; use their parts to make a wretch, this morbid art— Frankenstein, Frankenstein! You are to blame for the deadness in your heart. Great scientists applaud you, what— because you play a god! Frankenstein, Frankenstein! Broad paths are better left untrod. Look in the mirror; See the true beast! You are the nightmare stealing your sleep! Oh, Frankenstein; The self is the monster that haunts you—haunts me....

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On Halloween beneath the full moon Both the Wolfman and Dracula drools The fun will begin when the Witches drop in It's another night out with the Ghouls You'll find a host of dancing Demons Followed by Ghosts and Goblins galore There'll be flesh to dine at Club Frankenstein You just pick what you want off the floor All the drinks comes straight...

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It was the eve of Halloween, In a mansion on Haunted Hills. The yearly gathering of Ghouls, For poker and a couple of chills. The Mummy was first to arrive, Then the Wolfman and Frankenstein. All were guests of Count Dracula, Who offered each a glass of wine. They all sat down at the table, A game of stud poker began. The Count drew a...

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They call me the poetic master a genius storyteller writing poetry channels the inner Frankenstein in me with a simple press of a key in each rhyme and stanza: I can craft a lucid love story into a dynamic Romeo and Juliet tale! I can craft a smooth nature poem into an oil painting of figurative language! I can craft a facile poem of Bahamian...

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Can you tell which way the wind blows An echo always knows What needed to be said Ringing still , in your head Pain rain nothing left to gain All left a stain Beauty gets tainted Painted All fades with each tick of a clock. Hearts close and lock Hide that key Let no one see My Frankenstein heart stitched carefully, But unsure if it...

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Written for a Frankenstein's Monster Prompt I feel it in my fingers, I feel it in my toes If only... My head and my heart are conflicted My fingers look murderous but crave gentle touch My eyes seek solace and connection But are met with horror I hear more than I wish to I am loneliness The loneliness of 15 people Connected but wanting...

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Bride of Frankenstein does not like the scene she is seeing. Her husband looks so delightful, he might be peeing. Elvira Mistress of the dark is losing her clothes loud and proud. Her large headlights are shining and showing, collecting a crowd. The werewolf is groveling down low at the hussy’s feet. Tasting the hem of her gown, what could...

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cow bells ring through verdant hills rolling up to cuddle towering gray cliffs spraying white foam intoxicating Alps where Frankenstein concocted Elixir Vitae and birthed a monster rich red wine and a pot of fondue on a cafe terrace jagged tip of the top of Europe peeking through the fluff hugging its head and shoulders stunning monster the Alps Elixer Vitae for an old soul...

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