~ dedicated to James Whale, Boris Karloff and Jack Pierce
It was a dreary silent night
I beheld the accomplishment of her labor.
All manner of people gathered round
To view this child they called savior.
“There is no place for monsters here”
My father sharply admonished
And it was with those few words
I once again was banished.
Staggering through the village
Unchained, but not free
I searched for some sanctuary
To resolve this tricky riddle of me.
All these longings stirred within.
Where was it I could find
Some sense of belonging
Some others of my kind?
Meanwhile with their torches
The villagers guarded Christmas well
Forging customs and traditions to
Link stories they tell and tell
Creating in their own images
Distant idyllic scenes
Trimming Christmas down to what
They want it to mean.
Finally I cried back to them
“Who is monster here?
You claim this child’s the world’s redeemer
But you won’t let me near!
How many have you turned away
With your zeal to keep Christmas true
When everything you’ve done for Christmas
Has been all for you?”
“Who is there?” the calm voice called
Against my ragged arrival.
He cleaned my wounds. fed me bread and wine,
And let me sleep there for a while.
He never seemed to mind me
Until villagers came through the door
With guns and accusations
And a monster I am once more.
They hurried him away protesting
And left me for the flames.
I’d been burned before.
It always ends the same.
I met a stone man on a cross
And puzzled over what he was about
But the villagers didn’t like that scene
So they cut it out.
I wonder as I wander while
Others find me to fulfill their plans.
It seems the more they make of me
The less I truly am
And they wonder why the manger child
Appears so far away
As villagers still try to keep
Monsters from Christmas day.
© Copyright 2010
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