Miscellaneous:

[Eric Savva]

Marionette

By our hands, we manipulate our own biography
As we churn each vortex for a doll maker’s progeny
Where we blend the ingredients of a limited experience
Into the endless spiral that our pulp mind can suffice
We trivialize the evidence
And twist the meaning
All to justify the puppetry of the plot device
For our inconceivable stories
With their own indomitable dreams
A twisted tapestry entwined from ever flowing streams
We tug at threads, in a tartan storm
To be strung along, despite a mission plan, we are still born
And why we pull so hard for everything this gets
Just to concede when the cyclone, filling our centre stage, is set
That time is noon in the eye, under our crimson sky
Our doll kneels in the hushed heart of this hurricane
And we string-sheep must cry
In lament for our own tangled marionette
With no one to blame
But a long lionized regret
The reason why we bleat in hunger from the emptiness
That only painted mouths can consume
May undeniably be to placate our living in a spiritual vacuum
And so the bleating always fades
Into the lesser lackadaisical tirades
Long before it tears our threads
And unwinds each seam
Before it frees our strings, our ever calm, and our unforeseen
So that we’ll never know how much blind faith there is in any feeling
From this point on between our doing and being



Eric Savva

[MsJacquiiC]

Moved to Miscellaneous in Poetic Colours section...

Jacquii.