Crocodile Grin
Manitou slides
Doppelgänger silhouette
Ballet prides
Twisted contorted pirouette
Pierrot dolls glare twingingly
Stare wistfully from shaded mottled space
Ventriloquist disgusting tricks
From two deceitful
Face
The magicians hook
Stare garishly
Whilst he wilfully reels in
Audience of ooh faced crowds
Doused in doubt, at just whats
Happening
A rocking horse
It squeaks the boards
With no child on its
Back
And forth to kiddie Hell
Wooden teeth, a glare, a smile, a crack
Puppets is as puppets does
Whilst someone cuts the string
A slumped doll, hair shorn
Skipping rope to swing
The troll which lay beneath the bed
Fumbling hands to grab small feet
Spiders who crawl purposely
To join beneath the sheets
But worst of all, most worst of all, the dreaded curtain smiles
Which changed within a gentle breeze to something thats
Most vile
poem by Karen Sinclair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Dance, My Little Puppets
dance, my little puppets
dance for me
dance, my little puppets
and you shall see
dance, my little puppets
the truth you seek
dance, my little puppets
the truth i will speak
dance, my little puppets
set your soul free
dance, my little puppets
dance for me
dance, my little puppets
the truth you find
dance, my little puppets
do not hide
dance, my little puppets
dance for me
dance, my little puppets
truth is a lie, cant you see
dance, my little puppets
dance for me
dance, my little puppets
dance to see
dance, my little puppets
start to begin
dance, my little puppets
this is the end
poem by Sandy Nobody
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lagos Island [The Fighters]
Another day on lagos Island
Two boys fighting on their
Local dryland.
I wondered who started the
Conflict still,
But there they are entwined
in each others grip,
Out from blue comes a man
With a horse' whip;
Struggled to pull his way
Through the audience' stare
As he came, in awe, the
Audience' glare;
And two fighters took to
their heels, and fled.
poem by Efe Benjamin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stolen Smile
Goodbye, Sweet smile
From a friendly face you emerge,
Destroyed by a frown so vile
And violently scourge
Goodbye, sweet smile
Welcome, idle eyes of mystery
Which drench a silent servile,
An aura of translucent misery
Goodbye, sweet smile
Goodbye, goodbye
From happy face you exile
Now fall into the shadow to die
In a cold morning’s guile
Distraught by a fixating need
To find a stolen smile
The very one I missed indeed
Fallen into the trident of Poseidon
Battled the hardship of the seven seas
Swam through the gorge of Caspian
Chilled by the wind avenging breeze
To eradicate my impassive stare
Caused by a stolen smile
The radiant glow that is too rare
A smile so worthwhile
Goodbye, sweet smile
Your years come to an end
Only the trail of your lifestyle
That frown has unexpectedly rend
Goodbye, goodbye my sweet smile
Welcome to an impassive stare
That has stolen my smile
That has stolen my irresistible glare
poem by Jhonny Jean
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shadow spiders crawl on the wall (Hymnal Octave)
Shadow spiders crawl on the wall
at the red sunset's glare
and some are short and some are small
or very thin like hair
while others are narrow and tall
like a long twisting stair
but still you are my all in all
following everywhere.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Best Way to Comb the Blonde Hair
Years is the worst unforgivable hairstylist
He cuts my hair short;
shorter than our short story..
He cuts my hair off;
off the last relationship..
Now it's 4 sharp in the afternoon,
i, wooden, seize the comb, wooden.
Mirror does not tell lies
age can only climb high.
the comb runs through my hair
my hair flows through somewhere
more strands of hair are gone..
more worries are born
I forget how I combed hair
back in those years..
A young blonde is coming..
and i gonna ask her this question.
poem by Garland Jodie Jeen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thine Eyes I Wear
Hidden beneath your immense stare
Is thine soul exquisite, refined and rare
Fluid and chilly as a streaming river
Your look, your soul, makes mine shiver
Under thine eyes, thy raiment I wear
The look of love, thine ardent glare
Attractive to thee like the embers of fire
What is that thou sincerely admire?
Is it thine own eyes I wear?
Is it thine eyes that attract thy own stare?
When thou look I change into you
For in thine look, thy love I accrue
Always look at me with that beautiful glare
And thine look, thine eyes, I will proudly wear.
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Threepenny Pierrot
Threepenny pierrot - we love you
Threepenny pierrot - loves us too
Pockets of gladness, gay time eyes
Comical hero, threepenny pierrot
Happy little feet that dance all day
Lonely little heart with lots to say
Stepping footprints on your mind
Offering thoughts of columbine
Bang the drum and blow the bugle call
Pierrot takes the stage to play for all
For heres a life his fortune rules
Forsaken by his columbine
Threepenny pierrot - we love you
Threepenny pierrot - loves us too
Pockets of gladness, gay time eyes
Comical hero, threepenny pierrot
To tap his feet to greet dear harlequin
The hearts of folks so keenly hard to win
A patchwork frame of tears and wine
The nectar for cruel columbine
The part of three and leaves the stage forlorn
Puppets cold, their faces sad and drawn
Relive each trial of rise and fall
The love which lacks between us all
Threepenny pierrot - we love you
Threepenny pierrot - loves us too
Pockets of gladness, gay time eyes
Comical hero, threepenny pierrot
Threepenny pierrot - we love you
Threepenny pierrot - loves us too
Pockets of gladness, gay time eyes
Comical hero . . . . . . threepenny pierrot
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Small Little Rag Doll
The small little rag doll
Made with love
Each stitch sown
By tender loving hands
Places under the tree
Wrapped in Xmas cheer
The little rag doll
A waits to be held
Small young hands
Rips wrappers apart
And smile with delight
At the little rag doll
The gingham dress
The Goldie lock hair
And sown on smile
Make a small child gasp
At a beautiful sight
Loving she holds
The little rag doll
And makes her a bed
In her make believe world
Her mother look’s on
With pride and Joy
That her little baby girl
Loves her little rag doll.
poem by Kaila George
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rocking Horse Road
The chains from the bridle and the reins fell from my hands
The engines are idle and the ship sails on dry land
I stood there stupefied, I thought I recognized
Walking down rocking horse road, getting lost
Shot through vaseline, he picks up the paper from the lawn
And tucks the suburban assassin underneath his arm
He smiles weakly and turns away
I know youll never come to harm
Walking down rocking horse road, its so peaceful
Its like a photograph
From the other side of the world
I said I want you only
And then I left you alone
Crying on rocking horse road, or somewhere quite like it
The cemetery gardens, there are names not numbers on the gateposts
And the eyes in the curtain follow you like a smirking ghost
I know I must not look back
cause part of me is waiting still
There on rocking horse road for you
In a little dream house made for two
Well you were the one that made your escape
In your stocking feet and your sticky tape
All the way down [repeat to fade]
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Is The Politics In My Country....
every one is fond
of puppets in a string,
one master puppeteer
throws mud to another master puppeteer
a watcher never likes
a puppet on a string
and wants to see the face
not of the prince puppet
but the manipulator of the
puppet behind a stage
in the dark,
no one likes to be a puppet,
but everyone here is a puppet
no one likes to be himself then
but everyone here is
themselves all puppets in a string
the king that you see there
has a puppeteer
the king who loves a queen
is not really the king but the puppeteer
i like not to be anyone's puppet
so you see
listen to me, it is really really bad
to simply be
a poet.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She Is Evil Lit
Her beauty is surfaced...
And when she smiles,
There are traces of evilness...
She tries to hide.
Once outside.
But under her makeup,
She can not erase...
What lies hidden deeply,
Behind that pretty face.
Bitterness concealed under a false grin.
Her smile is fixed,
Without one movement on her lips.
And she speaks through clinched teeth...
Like a trained ventriloquist.
But her eyes hold a light.
Brightly...
That is evil lit!
Her beauty is surfaced...
And when she smiles,
There are traces of evilness...
She tries to hide.
But under her makeup,
She can not erased.
How she holds onto...
Every pain and hurt felt in her life,
Every sacrifice is there.
From hair shampooed...
To her fixed glare.
And reminding anyone who witnessed this...
She was not the one,
Anytime soon...
Who would forget what it took,
To arrive to the reception of
Unwelcoming stares.
But she doesn't care.
Whatever that was good soured.
And it was not to her benefit.
She now knows who she is today.
She knows how to convey her beauty.
And to who what to say.
She knows she is...
Inside with tears.
She knows she is...
Inside,
Evil lit.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Children are so used to seeing puppets that when they see a real ventriloquist they don't understand it.
quote by Paul Winchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Game of Stare
There’s a boy with his fellow
I caught his eyes with a wander
Now the game has been played
Now you have been challenged
You better asked my name
Before anyone came
But you only stare, stare, stare
Like I annoy your safety ring
Like you can’t even think
You only stare, stare, stare
Like I lose you something
Something you can’t even win
There’s boy in the dance floor
I catch his eyes, he comes closer
Now the game is replayed
Now you better watch out
You better take me out
Before someone calls you coward
Cause you only stare, stare, stare
Like you never see me in dress
Like no one else who dares
You only stare, stare, stare
Like I steal you something
Something you can’t even think
There’s a boy in the park
He makes me catch his eyes
Now the game is forward
Now you don’t want to break up
You better have a word
Before you loose your hold
And you only stare, stare, stare
Like a puppy wants a bone
Like you’ll be lost if I’m gone
You only stare, stare, stare
Like I can give you something
Something you think you can’t win
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pierrot
Pierrot stands in the garden
Beneath a waning moon,
And on his lute he fashions
A fragile silver tune.
Pierrot plays in the garden,
He thinks he plays for me,
But I am quite forgotten
Under the cherry tree.
Pierrot plays in the garden,
And all the roses know
That Pierrot loves his music, --
But I love Pierrot.
poem by Sara Teasdale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Im A Marionette
youre so free, thats what everybodys telling me
Yet I feel Im like an outward-bound, pushed around, refugee
Somethings wrong, got a feeling that I dont belong
As if I had come from outer space, out of place, like king kong
Im a marionette, just a marionette, pull the string
Im a marionette, everybodys pet, just as long as I sing
Im a marionette, see my pirouette, round and round
Im a marionette, Im a marionette, just a silly old clown
Like a doll, like a puppet with no will at all
And somebody told me how to talk, how to walk, how to fall
Cant complain, Ive got no-one but myself to blame
Somethings happening I cant control, lost my hold, its insane!
Im a marionette, just a marionette, pull the string
Im a marionette, everybodys pet, just as long as I sing
Im a marionette, see my pirouette, round and round
Im a marionette, Im a marionette, just a silly old clown
look this way, just a little smile, is what they say
youll look better on the photograph if you laugh, thats okay
Im a marionette, just a marionette, pull the string
Im a marionette, everybodys pet, just as long as I sing
Im a marionette, see my pirouette, round and round
Im a marionette, Im a marionette, just a silly old clown
youre so free, thats what everybodys telling me
Yet I feel Im like an outward-bound, pushed around, refugee
song performed by by ABBA
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Simulacra
Why does the horse-faced lady of just the unmentionable age
Walk down Longacre reciting Swinburne to herself, inaudibly?
Why does the small child in the soiled-white imitation fur coat
Crawl in the very black gutter beneath the grape stand?
Why does the really handsome young woman approach me in Sackville Street
Undeterred by the manifest age of my trappings?
poem by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Herbert
Whilst cleaning out a stable
A was about to light me light
When a voice behind my shoulder
Said “It’s rather cold tonight”
“How do you do”, he said “I’m, Herbert”
then he give his foot a stamp
“I expect this has quite shaken you”
He was right! …A nearly dropped me lamp.
For a start he’d no right talking
A mean he were a Bloody Horse!
And secondly he had real a posh voice
E’ made me sound proper coarse.
“Well” a said “am gobsmacked”
am am not sure what to do
a talking horse named Herbert
A you sure that, that was you?
“Of course not, don’t be silly
But I’ll tell you what you missed
You see that pig behind you
Then he whispered “Ventriloquist”
Well a give the Pig a reet good stare
But he never blinked an eye.
“Herbert art thou takin piss”
and the horse he said “I try”
So it is you that’s bloody talking
But isn’t that’s against the rules?
the Horse just looked straight at me
and you could see him thinking “fool! ”
Now that’s a matter of opinion
As to who’s allowed to talk
I mean you humans just have two legs
But you still allowed to walk.
OK OK I said, a take your point
I suppose it’s really up to you
But for all them years not one horse spoke
Now suddenly “how do you bloody do”
A’ said hang on just a minute Herbert
How come you picked today?
Oh it was by way of an experiment
Just to see what you would say.
On reflection though a little rash
Perhaps not the thing to do
Mankind is just not ready yet
If I am to judge by you
Well you’ve blown you cover big style
Of that there’s little doubt
A talking horse called Herbert
just wait ‘til this gets out
So you met a talking horse did you?
Now who’ll believe the truth
I mean once this conversations over
Think carefully, where’s you proof
The Horse he looked around him
The he eyed the pig as well.
“He’s your only real eye witness
And who’s the Pig about to tell”
poem by Bill Mitton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Head Creeps
No more time
Just one more time
So crazy, beat the strain
Too lazy, shake the gray
So, and she willed the rain
So let me be defamed
Your redundancy stains
Tired of infantile claims
Like puppets on a string
Untangle you from me
Time to call the doggies off
Tired of the shadowin
Slide me to the side again
Slapped in the face again
No more time
Just one more time
Your redundancy stains
Tired of infantile claims
Like puppets on a string
Untangle you from me
So crazy, beat the strain
Too lazy, shake the gray
So, and she willed the rain
So let me be defamed
Time to call the doggies off
Tired of the shadowin
Slide me to the side again
Slapped in the face again
One day my plane leaves
Some way my head creeps
Some day my head leads
Some way my head creeps
No more time
Just one more time
Empty room sets the scene
Pick at me slow, pain fiend
Suck me through barbed screen
Anger becomes our queen
Tongue whipping forked black
How long until you crack
Surprised and set back
Lackeys loose talk for fact
Time to call the doggies off ]
Tired of the shadowin ]
Slide me to the side again ] (2x)
Slapped in the face again ]
One day my plane leaves
Some way my head creeps
Some day my head leads
Some way my head creeps
Creeps
No more time
Just one more time
So crazy feel the hate
Yeah, Ive got years to wait
I know its not too late
Lending clean hands of fate
Rise from the dirt Im in
Hide in anothers skin
Stick black dress doll with pin
Your mouth takes on my grin
So crazy (3x)
song performed by by Alice In Chains
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Turn of the Road
I was playing with my hoop along the road
Just where the bushes are, when, suddenly,
There came a shout.—I ran away and stowed
Myself beneath a bush, and watched to see
What made the noise, and then, around the bend,
I saw a woman running. She was old
And wrinkle-faced, and had big teeth.—The end
Of her red shawl caught on a bush and rolled
Right off her, and her hair fell down.—Her face
Was awful white, and both her eyes looked sick,
And she was talking queer. 'O God of Grace!'
Said she, 'where is the child?' and flew back quick
The way she came, and screamed, and shook her hands;
... Maybe she was a witch from foreign lands.
poem by James Stephens
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Court Of The Crimson King
The dance of the puppets
The rusted chains of prison moons
Are shattered by the sun.
I walk a road, horizons change
The tournaments begun.
The purple piper plays his tune,
The choir softly sing;
Three lullabies in an ancient tongue,
For the court of the crimson king.
The keeper of the city keys
Put shutters on the dreams.
I wait outside the pilgrims door
With insufficient schemes.
The black queen chants
The funeral march,
The cracked brass bells will ring;
To summon back the fire witch
To the court of the crimson king.
The gardener plants an evergreen
Whilst trampling on a flower.
I chase the wind of a prism ship
To taste the sweet and sour.
The pattern juggler lifts his hand;
The orchestra begin.
As slowly turns the grinding wheel
In the court of the crimson king.
On soft gray mornings widows cry
The wise men share a joke;
I run to grasp divining signs
To satisfy the hoax.
The yellow jester does not play
But gentle pulls the strings
And smiles as the puppets dance
In the court of the crimson king.
song performed by by King Crimson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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