The Puppeteer~

Pluck

Pluck

Nimble fingers

Nimble mind

Twirling hearts, her gift refined

One boy

Counts as toy

One girl

Steal her pearl

Three steps to the right

She spins their threads

Deep and tight

One step to the left

Purse the lips

Deny it’s theft

Accumulating human dolls

Love and hate intertwined

Gift a kiss

Take their mind

Once it dulls

Wave, bye bye

 

Cut

Cut

Strings in heaps

You tube giggles

While they weep

Distraction

Attraction

Emotions in abstraction

Little puppeteer, so young

Doesn’t realize what she’s done

Accumulating karmic debt

For the blond, the red head

The brunette

Left in stains

A soft refrain

A heap of broken dolls

Detained

Her allure a tightening chain

 

Pluck

Pluck

Nimble fingers

Nimble mind

Sweeping puppets to the side

Where I will bend and pick them up

Into my cradle

Patch them up

As best I can

As best they will

Incline to heal

In my surreal

Underland of fairy tales

Where I planted roses fair

For them before they even knew

The puppeteer would wound them so

For it is I who made her so

Young myself

How could I know

That plucking buds with such uncare

Would travel to the girl so fair

Imprint into her ways and then

She could easily dismember them

 

Cut

Cut

My strings in heaps

To mend the dolls with my own seal

For karmic is as karmic does

We pay the debt, as is deemed just

On the loom

My fingers nimble

My tiny heart blooms in a thimble

Fixing

Mending

Tiny ropes

Every knot I tie

With hope

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

copyright:2011vssmd/amusemusepress

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Author's Note

~a subtle~loving message for one who needs it~

Reviews

[Jūdan FyreHeart]

It reads like a careful warning and reminder to a woman/female dear to you. So little caring and lack of understanding for what she does as you stand by, watching, helpless. Doing what little you can with hope she mends her ways. With your usual flare of course :-P

[Raven Starhawk]

This could very well be a piece from my own fragmented mind. ^^* It sung to me like a foreign yet beautiful dream.

[Robin]

wildflower dreams of guiding fingers and tangled strings threaded through woven hearts on a stage of memories ...

[Brad]

LOL! on a tangent, this reminded me of neil gaimans "Coraline"....*shiver

[Kelsie Eileen Stark]

Beautifully penned with a flow of darkness and bittersweet mindlessness. Great job!

[Kerry O'Connor]

This reads to me like a witch's chant, a little spell being woven to mend all that is broken in the world, or at least to conjure up hope.

[Cafe Reader]

This poem is sleek, it winds around the consciousness of all of us who have been guilty of this at one time or another. You bring atonement. You're medicine, my girl, pure and simple, you are the cure for man's inhumanity against man.

Pluck

Pluck

Nimble fingers

Nimble mind

Sweeping puppets to the side

Where I will bend and pick them up

Into my cradle

Patch them up

As best I can

As best they will

Incline to heal

In my surreal

Underland of fairy tales

Where I planted roses fair

For them before they even knew

The puppeteer would wound them so

For it is I who made her so

Young myself

How could I know

That plucking buds with such uncare

Would travel to the girl so fair

Imprint into her ways and then

She could easily dismember them




You never throw stones, Selene, you just gently nudge them into the arena, revealing your own faults, and indiscretions, connecting all of us together as human beings.

[David W Moore III]

we are all broken, and in some unknowingly (in others quite knowingly) we contribute to others breaking. it is the rare soul that wants to mend, has the ability to mend, and does mend others. i love how you slip big messages into seemingly 'simple ditties' of your unfairyland. as always, we are not worthy!

[Lachenille Papillion]

Ah, a reworking of the age old tale of the apple and the tree... hugs

[Rikkevi Rue]

Soul-speak...

subtler than a whisper
yet wickedly cunning
chillier than a frost
yet fired with passion
deeper than a trace
yet feyly superficial
less devious than a ruse
though slyly crafted
carefree as a shrug
though casting futures
couched in casual nonchalance
though crucially calculated
turning lips to smile
still wrenching as a heartbreak
seemingly inconsequential
though clearly vital
cloaked in mystery
though hidden right there...
in the open.

Vibrant impressions from heart through mind crafted by an ink-weavers nimble fingers...prolific loom of expressions womb ;-)

[OT]

I'm sure you were born to someone drumming a beat ha - the rhymes infused - playfully though deceptively when looking at substance of the piece - the broken dolls and cut flowers - the cut strings and plucked strings as the puppeteer plays with his pieces before discarding them - and selene to the rescue through words and heart!! encore as always!!