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Maria Mitea Sep 2020
When lost in giant thoughts
and mumbling lips don’t hear
how divine prayers fall
on puppets on the walls
In vain you pour your soul,
Is all in vain, my man!

When darkness bends the light
and you hide from y’own eyes
and you run from y’own voice
and force the cogit shut its door,
In vain you pour your soul,
Is all in vain, my man!

When lazy sky transforms
the clouds into boomerangs
and crippled stars pretend
to be white angels of your lies,
in vain you pour your soul,
Is all in vain, my man!

When houses are cold
and candles are not burning
and tears are pervert actors
that never listen to the silver bell,
In vain you pour your soul,
Is all in vain, my man!
Isabella Aug 2020
All these puppets wear bright smiles
While I let my mouth form a frown
They stare in wonder at the sky
As I feel my gaze drifting down
I’m told to stand and dance with them
But I am content on the ground
Sinking deep into the cobalt sea
I’d rather breathe it in, and drown
It’s much more comforting to sit alone and cry, than give in to society’s expectations and lies.
Ces Jul 2020
Mundane concerns stifle
the soul that hungers for the infinite
Practicality subverts the mind
as it questions and wrestles with
this existential enigma...

Bound by the curse of productivity
and the insatiable drive for accumulation
Libidinal, perverse thoughts
drive the working man

to this, to that...

he is a puppet pulled by invisible strings:
the corporate, bureaucratic masters
calling the shots
laughing control freaks...
the world is theirs for the taking
and the worker-slave raises his hands
a sense of triumph
as the crumbs fall down

We live in a Kafkaesque era
merrily languishing
in this willful dementia.
Poetic T Apr 2020
I'm a silently panicked individual,
on the outside  I'm calmer than
    the ocean on a windless tide.

But underneath I'm like a riptide of
trepidation,
             I wonder different scenarios.

What if's,
                when will I,
              why the hell are they
                                    not 6 feet away.

In my view, a cotton cloth isn't going
to stop anything, if a **** can get through,
                boxers, and Demin trousers.


How's a thin cloth going to stop it,
              P.s the rest of your face neck
hair is open for business.


Its absorbed, every breath, touch
cough, that travels much, much
further than you think.

With your vinyl gloves that spread more
than you realise..
             But what ever makes
                          you comfortable.. that's ok!!!

                             But don't touch anything
I want to pick up with your filthy hands.
Id rather trust unwashed digits to those
blue, white, finger puppets of falsehood.

I read the news, so many who help us,
          those in need thank goodness I'm
not one, not yet..
But they help the poorly,
                            the dying..
  I hate that word
                            DYING..
loneliness,
             of family unable morn you,
             to smile and wish you good journey.

You, we, them just die without a smile.
               a We Love You.
No they just gasp looking for comfort,
      but all they see is others gasping for
           just another day...

                      Flatline...…………………………………….
Lee Carter Apr 2020
Some puppeteers perform upon their own stage.
A theater made by and for themselves.
They enjoy an act of selfish design
Then bow to raucous applause
From hands pulled tight by string.
I've got my mission, got my vision
and I'm ready to take action to fight the machine
To those that be, yeah, it might be a long journey
but I'll do anything for humanity, I'll admit, I'm a sinner
and I've done my fair share of bad deeds
but the city of angels, I've seen what's underneath
it's filled with the sounds of children's screams
in-humane parties run by the elites

It's all a lie, America - the land of the free
Sacrifice your mind, body, and soul
then you'll have your opportunity
but wait, now you're not free
your just a puppet to the Illuminati
turning a blind eye to those that be

can't you see? it's a trap - all of it
nothing is free, just a bunch of killers, liars, and thieves
Who lack humanity, there is nothing inside
Elites are hollow and are never satisfied
deprived of all things human
always waiting, always watching
For your destruction.
Created by me on January 10th, 2020
Found out the other day that my whole life is a lie
I don't know why but I feel like I wanna die
It's sickening to see the eye supply the lies
Filling the citizens with hopeless lies while they do everything to get by
Don't worry, I'm not the bad guy
this is a warcry to those who cover their one eye
In the music, magazines, photos, movies
Don't get me started on the monarch butterfly

I followed the white rabbit over the rainbow
and along the way, I lost my halo
it was a trap, and I can't get it back
they took it away, wanted me,
sung to me, awoken me,
please help me.
Created by me on October 24th, 2019
More of a rap then a poem but it still has a heartfelt message.
Carlo C Gomez Mar 2020
They prefer the dark corners in a theatre
Places adjacent to a snack bar
But close enough to the exit
Because killers on strings
Always eat on the run

They're sown from a different cloth
Brains made of the same
Course material
As flailing arms and legs
To form one disturbing pattern

They make such good liquidators
For their eyes are dead
Their heart lifeless and unbeaten
Their long fingers perfect
For a bit of good-natured strangulation

Never mind though
We must first tip our hats
To those who truly pull the strings
Hosting kid puppet shows by day
Hiring out cute cuddly fiends after hours
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