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Pauline Morris Mar 2016
Sitting out on a bench
Thinking, maybe I should run and impale myself on that fence
In the garage at the beams I take a glance
Maybe I should tie a rope and do the marionette death dance
Swallow a bunch of pills
Or take a gun and cure my ills
I knew there was a price for love
Now watch me fall with that finale shove
Falling down that rabbit hole
Will I come back, I really don't know
The Wordsmith Feb 2016
The words I create, I rarely do comprehend,
The meanings behind them, the messages they do send,
I am not the poet or the god, I am just the messenger,
A marionette in the masterpiece theatre,
Am I the created or am I the creator?
The contemplations of a poet as he struggles to understand himself and who he is and his role as a poet.
ryn Dec 2015
.
*    |                                       |                                              |
    |                                       |                                              |
    |                                       |                                              |
     |                                    •arches                                      |  
   |                                 up top bef-                                   |
   |                               ore tapering                                   |
   |                                   down to                                      |
   |                   ­                    the                                           |
    |                                         ­                                            ooo
       |                   ooo    bottom•a sym-      ooooo         ooo    o
   |              oooo    bol that holds my en-     oooo      ooo
|       oooo        tirety for ransom•a hos-      oooooo  
|   ooo              tage situation that made          ooo    
ooo                   me so willing•truss me                      
  ooo              up, bound...  i am not                      
oo            fighting•call this in-              
          oo            sensibility... name                         
ooo                  this foolery•i am                   
   ... but a branch
dangling off
|                           a  tree•                            |  
|                call                           thus            |  
|           me   an                        i   am           |  
|          idiot... la-                 the doll,          |    
|            bel  me a              from  oth-         |    
|            nitwit•for          ers, set far          |    
|                i only                    apart•           |    
|     have my                             i am the     |    
| strings...                                      marione-    
i am but                                             tte who's
a limp                                                        after
pup-                                              your
    ­ pet•                                         heart•
*
.
By far the toughest concrete poem I have ever attempted!

Concrete Poem 29 of 30

Tap on the hashtag "30daysofconcrete" below to view more offerings in the series. :)
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Lilly frost Jun 2015
Marionettes
All tied to the stage
Battered and broken
Begging for every token
Puppets for our masters
Walking disasters
Refusing to fall down
Standing on The stage now
Don't forget to bow down
You don't wanna stand out
Long to be free and roam out of your skin
But you would be punished and further broken
Beggin
Pleading
On your knees repeating
Marionettes all tied to the stage
Battered and broken
Begging for every token Puppets for our masters
Turning into crawling disasters
You long to see
What's on the other side
Could there be a good side
After all this time
How could it be
So hard to find
Yet so easy to see
But your broken
Bleadin
On your knees repeating
Over and over again
I am a marionette
Tied to the stage
Battered and broken
Begging for every token
A puppet for my master
A walking disaster
A Watoot May 2015
I've been waiting
For a great comeback.
But you cannot supply me
With the truth I deserve.

Therefore, I
will make you a marionette-
controlled by my hands,
and make you dance

For my entertainment
and for my sake;
Because you cannot
amuse me just by
making yourself look pitiful.

Do not try masking
Things that's true
Because I know
What's been happening.

Do not even try masking
And hiding behind
switching topics and
Frequent lies.

I cannot tolerate
these things that you do.
So, I am here to pull your strings
And make you dance for all the

**Lost trust
Lose my trust. Lose your will.
For a friend that I already cut ties with.
You forgot what I can do.
Alan S Bailey Mar 2015
Hands
Eyes
Feet
God
Charade
Pink
King
Dress
Blessed
Make up
Pastels
Ponies
Hearts
Carts
Darts
Future
Born
Torn
Plain
Wrapp­ed
Trapped
Ice
Wings
Strings
Scissors
"Fallen angel"
Silhouette

Marionette
KG Mar 2015
Master in the art of manipulation,
You strum my fragile strings until I obey.
Jackie White Feb 2015
The strings tightened their grip on her wrist.
She couldn’t fight them.
She needed help.
The knives were so close, yet so far away.
If only she could reach them.
If she fought hard enough
She could.
It’s happened before
They have escaped before.
They fought, and they won.
But there are those who didn’t win
Those who fought and lost.
They were replaced.
They were ignored
They were left behind.
That’s why she didn’t fight.
She was scared
What if she couldn’t fight them?
What if she lost?
The strings moved her hands
As the marionettist gently moved them.
Her hand rose above her head
The little girl below her covered her face
No. NO! STOP!
She had had enough
The strings broke her skin as she resisted.
The blood flowed down the strings
As she fought.
The marionettist was getting impatient.
I helped you. Now you help me. That’s only fair, right?
He said. For a second, she believed him.
No. It’s not.
She reached for the knives. She was winning.
But they were still out of reach.
Then the strings broke.
She had won.
She was free.
And she was done with the strings.
This is about letting yourself be controlled by other people. The marionette would represent those who control others and have them do their ***** work. The puppet didnt want to hurt people anymore so she fought and broke free.
But there were those who tried and failed, those who were left behind and abandoned.
Think about high school.
Marionette - Populars, the ones who manipulate others
Puppet - Shy ones, the ones who can be manipluated
Lost Puppets - The bullied, the ones who had fought for whats right and lost
Little Girl - Think of her as the friend that was there for the Puppet for the longest time, but then met the Marionette and the Puppet left the Girl. Maybe she tried to get the Puppet back, but the Marionette wouldnt let that happen. The Puppet wouldnt hurt the girl though, so she fought and finally won her freedom back.
Rae Slager Jan 2015
Music
Fills this hollow body
Making it sway
As a rhymthic marionette
amie Dec 2014
take me and break me
a ragged doll
my porcelain skin cracked open and your shadows creeped in
i try to hold myself together
but it's hard when someone else holds the strings
        how do you do it?
i am full of holes
you spill out of me like blood from an open wound
        how could you do it?
you made me into nothing
i am still in awe
still curious
am i your muse or your monster?
I've redone this poem so many times but I love the concept of being a muse/monster.
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