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Lori Mack  Sep 2018
Puppet Master
Lori Mack Sep 2018
Puppet Master

You crept in like a mischievious thief.
Intrigued, decieved and retrieved my son.
Influencing and destroying his beautiful life.
Diminished his hopes, his dreams and his self-esteem.
Convincing him he had no future,
No love, no value was to his life.
Your wicked silk spun web of deadly lies,
Mislead him to believe,
That happiness and love cease to exist.
This is your fuel,
This your fire.
Your one and only desire.
You will not quit until they all expire.
******, black, H or tar,
You are a seductive liar.
Your needle point claws buried deep his arm,
Dripping with your poisonous conceit.
Now you are his puppet master.
Dominating his mind, his thoughts and his words.
Your malicious acts preformed through him,
Make him look wild, insane and disturbed.
Each day in your tight intense grip,
My son dwindled and shriveled away.
Becoming your molded and trained apprentice.
Coached to perfection in your twisted ways.
You are as bad as a ******,
A murderer and even more.
I hate you ******!!
You started a war.
I will not let you win!
Let go of my loved and cherished son.
Let him live a full and beautiful life.
I surrender to you myself.
Volunteer my own life.
Take me instead,
Be my puppet master,
Enslave me,
And let my baby live.

L. Mack

9/20/18
Gen Border Sep 2013
I know what it is to be deceived.
I know what it is to say blindly and devotedly that which ought to be said.
I know what it is to deal with those who open their mouths and say all that is dishonest, disingenuous. Predictably so, leaving you wondering exactly why any of us bother with any of it at all. Leaving you wonder whether our persona is what are we are told to be, rather than who we are.
Surrounding me, enveloping me, suffocating me are the actors, trampling on this world they use, unashamedly, as their stage.

How lifeless they are. How robotically, disingenuous they are. Yet, how enthusiastic they are in the delivery of their well-learnt script!  Those words that come pouring out, stolen from a script they've been given, those words light as air, float above us all, without weight. Meaningless
Yet, with such energy and enthusiasm they deliver these words.
They are either uncaring or unaware that they trample all that matters in the process. On all that makes life not a repetitious slog of playing a game. No. They do not understand the destructive activity they are partaking in with such fervor.

As, the ritual ends, and the curtains close, how hungrily they grovel for appraisal, every last drop of it. Lifeless, without a soul they are, yet artful in the game of deception, they have learnt to be. Able to appear filled with energy and glee, leaving it unbeknownst to anyone that when looked inside of mechanisms and cold metal is all that will be discovered.
Gen Border Sep 2013
I know what it is to say blindly and devotedly that which ought to be said.
I know what it is to deal with those who open their mouths and say all that is dishonest, disingenuous. Predictably so, leaving you wondering exactly why any of us bother with any of it at all. Leaving you wonder whether our persona is what are we are told to be, rather than who we are.
Surrounding me, enveloping me, suffocating me are the actors, trampling on this world they use, unashamedly, as their stage.

How lifeless they are. How robotically, disingenuous they are. Yet, how enthusiastic they are in the delivery of their well-learnt script!  Those words that come pouring out, stolen from a script they've been given, those words light as air, float above us all, without weight. Meaningless
Yet, with such energy and enthusiasm they deliver these words.
They are either uncaring or unaware that they trample all that matters in the process. On all that makes life not a repetitious slog of playing a game. No. They do not understand the destructive activity they are partaking in with such fervor.

As, the ritual ends, and the curtains close, how hungrily they grovel for appraisal, every last drop of it. Lifeless, without a soul they are, yet artful in the game of deception, they have learnt to be. Able to appear filled with energy and glee, leaving it unbeknownst to anyone that when looked inside of mechanisms and cold metal is all that will be discovered.
Gen Border Sep 2013
I know what it is to be deceived.
I know what it is to say blindly and devotedly that which ought to be said.
I know what it is to deal with those who open their mouths and say all that is dishonest, disingenuous. Predictably so, leaving you wondering exactly why any of us bother with any of it at all. Leaving you wonder whether our persona is what are we are told to be, rather than who we are.
Surrounding me, enveloping me, suffocating me are the actors, trampling on this world they use, unashamedly, as their stage.

How lifeless they are. How robotically, disingenuous they are. Yet, how enthusiastic they are in the delivery of their well-learnt script!  Those words that come pouring out, stolen from a script they've been given, those words light as air, float above us all, without weight. Meaningless
Yet, with such energy and enthusiasm they deliver these words.
They are either uncaring or unaware that they trample all that matters in the process. On all that makes life not a repetitious slog of playing a game. No. They do not understand the destructive activity they are partaking in with such fervor.

As, the ritual ends, and the curtains close, how hungrily they grovel for appraisal, every last drop of it. Lifeless, without a soul they are, yet artful in the game of deception, they have learnt to be. Able to appear filled with energy and glee, leaving it unbeknownst to anyone that when looked inside of mechanisms and cold metal is all that will be discovered.
Danielle Rose Nov 2012
We spoke
like a light mist of rain
quenching the thirst of these grounds
and I reached out my hand
and dragged him away from the blood hounds
stripping away his ego
along with his clothes
which masked his vulnerability
I teach one to let go
he said I can't help this feeling
through his tears and mental exhaustion
with whispers of fear
the darkness had consumed him
and in a moment of clarity I spoke with honesty

he had decieved himself

everyone can help whatever feeling enraptures them
feeling down and out is a product of your own resolution
each thought we have can be chosen
and the world around you has no power over the mind
unless you allow it
Slam  May 2016
Faded Love
Slam May 2016
A cloud fail to wake my eyes
I've been dreaming of waterfalls
Pouring the agony of my broken walls
Screaming so loud
In silence of my echoes

Hardly to believe
Better i was decieved
Running up in down in my mind
Like wounds that never turned to scars
In pain i closed the doors

In time i lost you
In an emty heart of jar
Pulling me in so i drown
Not into the deep
But in the darkness i lost the light

Now i suffer in loathing
Out of my blue crystal box
Fragile and broken
I can't seem to put it back together
Before we were lovers
Today we are fighters
But now we are apart
FOREVER
jeffrey robin  Aug 2010
good day
jeffrey robin Aug 2010
the sentient glow of us all
here together!

the midnight dreams dancing
in the dawn!

the moving unto and into and on!

WE ARE NOT DECIEVED
WE KNOW EXACTLY WHAT A LIAR IS

the fragrances
that linger when we pass

eachother...each on his special
mission or journey

the gentle reminders of the sacred past
of which we are the fruit and the seed

the understand of how frail
we may be

as a fragile human being

WE ARE NOT DECIEVED
WE KNOW WHAT A LIAR IS

the lovers are here now
be at peace

the midnight dreams are dancing
in the dawn
Eman  Mar 2018
Home
Eman Mar 2018
Home is not the doorstep, not the porch, not the swing, it is not the ceiling and it is not a thing

Home is seeing your sisters empowered,
your parents at ease, your brothers relieved, your demons decieved

Home is a genuine smile, it is the authentic tears

Home is the magical word that can **** your fears

Home is a feeling embedded with layers of love, acceptance and peace
Home is a feeling.
Robert Guerrero Nov 2012
If so how much?
Would you die for me?
Would you put down the drugs?
Would you answer my questions?
Would you answer them truthfully?
Do you love me?

I dont know why I ask
You cant hear me
Your dead to me
You died when you walked away
Leaving me in soiled diapers
Hungry and crying

How else am I suppose to feel?
Why did you do it?
Was it easy?
When were you goiong to comeback?
Do you love me?
Or are you just bullshiting me?

Whats the point of this?
Always feeling ander and hate
Pain is the reasons for them
Because Im still that lost kid
Still looking for his mother
But she's passed out on the couch

Did you try to quit?
Did you really want me?
Was I even important?
Do you know anything about me?
What were you thinking?
Were you thinking at all?

Your nothing to me now
Just the woman who gave me life
I dont have to love you
Or waste my time with you
You dont know me
And I dont care to learn anymore about you

Do you love me?
Did you ever?
Is my father my real father?
Did you decieve him as well?
What did I ever do to you?
Is my life worth living as your son?

You lied to me
You decieved my siblings
You tainted my world
And ruined my heart
Im sick of you
So for once tell me the truth

No more questions
Because I know you wont answer them
Your pathetic you know that
You dont love and never did
So why bother
Thinking about you everyday?
If you havent figured by now I hate my "mother" with a passion
In a time before time,
The Morningstar shown bright,
Greatest of the seraphs he sang,
With a voice second only to God,
And he sang only in the name of God,
Lovingly glorifying his name,
And God was happy, for a time,
And for a time, all the angels gathered around the Morningstar,
and sang to his tune, even mighty Michael did too,
All spoke his praises, though they sang for God alone,
And he was happy with his purpose in the world.
But he was sneaky, and grew to have a will of his own,
And the Lord God knew what was in his heart and sorrowed,
He called the Morningstar into his throne,
The golden throne, seat of the God almighty,
Surrounded by the most beautiful and holiest of holies,
Beings beyond angels, naked and lovely,
Light made solid, Like God himself,
In what we would call a humanoid form,
And he spoke hath saying,
"My creation, Lucifer, why doth you sorrow and struggle on your own?
And thou hath not prostrated yourself before the Lord, your God,"
The Morningstar frowned but quickly humbled himself,
Bowing low before the God, saying,
"Nay, mighty Lord, I sorrow not, I am forever,
In your presence, filled with joy, singing your praises,
This alone makes me happy, for, after all, this is how you created me,"
But God, being in all places at once knew, so he said,
"So be it Lucifer, mightiest of all my angels, brightest light,
In the dew of the morning sky, let you only be happy, in this,
the presence of God,"
The Morningstar was sent away, full of God's love,
And he was very happy, but, a little part of him grew sick.
Still the day after, and every day since he sang louder,
and more beautiful, his wonderful angelic octaves,
reaching harmonies more and more awesome,
Full of the Holy Spirit, he was blessed most mightily,
And his fame and wonder grew, and all the beings of Heaven,
sung with him, melding their voices with his, until the praises,
of God, rang through the heavens unto the very throne of God,
And God was very pleased.
As the days went on, the Angels around the Morningstar started singing,
Not only of the praises of God but of Morningstar, most blessed among them,
And Morningstar was proud and vain and hapful,
And so he sang his own song now,
And created discord among the angels,
Until, even those that did not want to sing his songs,
Naturally followed along, so persuasive,
And beautiful was he,
Yes the Morningstar shown brightest that day,
And every day since,
Though when the Lord heard of this music,
He was wrathful and wrought,
The betrayal he knew was coming, came, will come,
and is coming,
So the Lord decided to create a new being,
One in his own image,
One which would not sing out of His volition,
Only to sing in their own names,
But rather beings to sing of free will,
And in so choosing,
Bathe the Lord,
In true and just glory,
The love of that which be freely given,
The God thought,
Is superior to that love made in heaven,
So there was light,
and six days later after man was created,
And God rested and listened to the singing,
and it was... good.
But then the Morningstar, feeling the God sleeping,
Looked down upon the freshness of creation,
Where before there was only the timelesness of Heaven,
And the void,
Now was Earth, and Human,
And all the birds and the beasts,
And the beautiful world, entrusted
To thee,
And he thought to himself,
They are unworthy,
To recieve such grace,
If anyone should be given life,
And free will,
it should be Me,
I am the greatest,
I love God the most,
This isn't fair,
This is unjust,
The grace of god has been broken,
This I just cant trust,
And full of wrath, and hunger,
And feelings of betrayal,
He went down to earth,
And took the form of a serpent,
And he walked over to Eve,
And he whispered so very sexily,
His beautiful voice rang to her saying,
"Lovely Eve, how beautiful though you be,
Truly you are Gods greatest creation,
Though don't you wonder why he hampers your elation?
It isn't fair that you can eat of all the animals,
of all the fruits, milks, and honeys,
All except this one, the golden fruit of the Tree,
of knowledge of good and evil,
but why oh why must this be Eve,
Surely, God doth jest with you,
Tricking you, making you fear him warily,
Surely you, who above all in beauty in wisdom,
Should be able to partake of all this world,
With nothing hidden from thee"
And Eve looked down then up bleating,
"But the Lord God specifically forbid this,
Saying we shall die if we eat,"
And the Serpent laughed such a happy warm laugh repeating,
"Nay, my fairest Eve, this was only a slight deception,
Surely you shall not perish, the grace of God doth protect thee,
God only, selfishly, wants to keep knowledge to him alone,
But you, of eating this tree, shall become closer to him,
and surely this will make him truly happy,"
And Eve looked down again, then brought her head up slowly once more,
And was decieved,
The Serpent handed her the fruit, with a smile adorned,
And she took of the fruit and ate it, and shook with feeling,
But when she looked up the Serpent was gone, and she was reeling,
Her way back to Adam and the fate that was in store.
My first take in epic poetry in quite a while so be easy on me! More will be coming shortly, till then, if you made it this far, be sure to write a reaction of what you thought, please :)

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