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Posts Tagged ‘poem’

I’ll Be Your Uber-Marionette

In poetry on October 9, 2011 at 3:35 AM

How’s about you just put me to sleep

So I never    – quite –    wake up.

Then

Style my hair however you wish

Pick whatever clothes to dress me in

Tie all the strings, connect all the lines,

I’ll wink, I’ll grin, I’ll shine

 •

I’ll be your Uber-Marionette 

I’ll be your emotionless human puppet.

˙

Make me from paper bags

Or

Laundry socks

Whatever form

Shaped in shadows

Make me from chicken wire, a shell!

A Shell made of Sky-Blue paper-mache

I’ll be your Uber-Marionette 

Unawake

At last in my own reverie.

Hand carve me from wood

Design only craftsmen master

Reshape me with gentle hands and familiar tools

Spend days, weeks, months

Finding that perfect shade of green

For my eyes.

Tie all the strings, connect all the lines

I’ll wink     •     I’ll grin     •      I’ll shine

Your Little Uber-Marionette

Emotionless and hollow 

Your darling ironic puppet .

˙

But I know something you don’t know.

After awhile

You’ll wish I was real

Waking me up

Forgetting our deal

To let my soul sleep

As you do what you will.

`

And with fury and madness

Whirl like a dervish

Spinning awake

Hurling      •     Twisting

Faster      •     and Faster      *FASTER!

The lines all snapping

The strings go flying,

Faster, Faster   •   … still …

Cyclonic rage

The uber-marionette gives way

Sucking you into its vortex

§

And when the tornado dissipates

It

Drops

You

OUT

A  Puppet

 

Copyright 2011 by Kimberly Cox, GidgetWidget™

Witness To His Shame

In 21st Century Culture, NEW!, poetry, Uncategorized on February 10, 2011 at 12:15 AM

Do you remember me in white robes?

maudlin, mercurial, unkept

wrapped in Fantasy

reflected in moonlight

filled in by your regret

Are you ashamed of me now?

stained white hotel sheets

with unspeakable things

and my underweight frame

buried somewhere beneath

is it

in this

we become

another secret ………. more dangerous  ?

IS THAT HOW YOU WILL CHOOSE TO REMEMBER     ME?

a drunken late night currant

of Rioja Red, Montelpucciano

flowing into mischievous malfeasance

spilled over and running       ruining

the last copy of our          manuscript

THEN I AM ASHAMED I GAVE YOU THOSE MOMENTS

a gift so pure

from inside me

passing an obsequious and fierce youth

as wild as the heat of battle

wide-eyed …. feral …. struggling

rough hands gripped and pressed down my wrists

you liked it when I fought back

HOW COULD I HELP

the veracity outside our window

the warmth that came

then a shelter built from whispers

HOW CAN YOU BE ASHAMED

what do you remember me as….

or has the ink bled too much on the page

have you bleached

all color

with your guilt

my fingers flip thru blank white pages    empty   as if I dreamt it

lovely longing and letters

words at play with words

rekindling fire by phrases

SOMETHING DEEP INSIDE

A PLACE LONG FORGOTTEN

PERHAPS THOUGHT DEAD

NONETHELESS DORMANT

THAT WARMTH BREATHED LIFE INTO

WHAT GAVE LIFE TO THOSE MOMENTS

you and I are their only witness

how can you be ashamed for this?

In our shadows we are the shades of our passing selves

in the empty room where the white robes come and go

like the white sheets in endless

supply

The lights are going down

as two ghosts move about

with the creaks and echos

wondering what to do

FORGOTTEN MEMORIES

They are left behind and kept away trapped in that

Time and Space

They never thought it would turn out this way

Or that they were ever ghosts to begin with

Or anything was wrong in the first place.

© KHC, 2005

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