Monday, March 30, 2020

...on Poetry and Fiction – Just “One Word” Away (Puppeteer)







                                                                                                                          

            One word becomes one idea, becomes one sentence, becomes one poem, becomes one story. It must start from just “one word”. Today my one word is “Puppeteer”.

                                                           
                                                                    
            ...He is wise, he is cunning and he is always in control. He gives and takes life by one yank of a string. He allows you to speak, to smile, to move, to dance, to sit and to be. Are you thankful for this master of your existence? Do you await his grand entrance, anticipating his great power over you? Or while at rest, do you remain unaware of your surroundings? Unaware of him? Unaware of your idle state; existing in a world of eternal sleep until he pulls your tangled strings?  Yes - there you rest upon a dusty old shelf, in a vegetative realm, lifeless and cold – until he reappears…and he does! The “Puppeteer” is back! 
           

           

                                                                    PUPPETEER

A master of deception
Wise and cunning in his actions
Powerful, charming, vulgar and snide
An intriguing smile and a confident strut
In control of all he touches
He makes his grand entrance
Extravagantly dressed to perfection
Ready to give life and take life effortlessly

With one yank of a string
He brings you to your feet
As you move wildly in his world of insanity
You speak loudly, you smile gaily
You move gracefully and you dance madly
Then he sets you down to rest
And there you sleep like the dead

Your strings all tangled
You collect dust on a shelf
So lifeless and cold, so still and alone
As he callously leaves you in dark shadows
Until he reappears at will
To raise you from the dead once again!

…Suddenly the room awakens
to his dreadful chilling essence
Preparing for the magic to begin
The walls breathe fiercely
The ceiling vibrates frantically
The rich soft rug welcomes his footsteps
He enters with silent charm
His ego ignites the room
The macabre acts are about to begin
Yes – he is here! The Puppeteer is back!





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