Knuckled Down
Fearing the haze of ending
this body does not behave now.
Puppet show was over.
Punch – drunk we move
amidst the psychopaths, who were
foraging the aroma from armpits.
Loincloths hanging on the strings to strangle
the pigeons.
Everything moves with precision.
Sex on the mind.
The master wants the untouched flesh,
quietly without any sound.
poem by Satish Verma
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Related quotes
Puppet
Puppet
By: Adam M. Snow
I am a puppet to those who use me;
for they know not what my curse may be.
All I want is for my strings to be cut;
but instead my eyes are sealed shut.
I'm hanging by strings for their entertainment;
for I am evermore bound in containment.
Who am I to be called their puppet;
though my essence cannot forget.
Day by day these strings grow tight;
day by day I try not to fight.
Although I'm stuck and cannot move;
now there's nothing else for me to prove.
I am a puppet;
yet I can't deny it.
Although I have become one with these strings;
all I wish is to spread my wings.
poem by Adam M. Snow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Puppet Boy
Wake up puppet boy!
Get up puppet boy
You got a job to do
Even so youre free to go
Where your master tells you to
Listen puppet boy
Before you disobey
Consider that the strings attached
Could make a big change in your ways
Puppet boy
Its the little things that count
Little problems little minds
Little points of view
Puppet boy
Its the little things add up
Getting bigger pull the trigger
Little things like you
Stand up puppet boy
Time to start the show
Youd better do some brand new moves
They paid a lot to watch you go
No!
Whats that puppet boy
Dont tell me what to do
Whats that puppet boy
Im not a freak like you
Whats that puppet boy
Ill move when I want to
I cant hear you puppet boy
Now dance dance dance
Stay out of bed
Unless you wanna get wet
Im a boy not a toy
And Im not through yet
Stay out of bed
Unless you wanna get wet
Now wake up puppet boy
Listen puppet boy
Youre not a robot slave
Consider that no strings attached
Could ever make you misbehave
Puppet boy
Its the little things in life
Little problems little minds
Little points of view
Puppet boy
Its the little things that count
Getting bigger pull the trigger
Little things like you
Now wake up puppet boy!
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Puppet
What if a strung up doll hated its life
And every part of what
It stood for
But couldn't escape because if it cut all
Strings attached
A puppet
Would no longer be worth watching.
A puppet
Would merely
Be a doll with useless marionette strings
Hanging from its sides
It would be nothing to watch
Nothing to see
Nothing to be
But
A puppet.
Without anything.
poem by Emily Hunt
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Hands
Untouched bed sheets
Oblivion morn
Untouched bed sheets
Spell betrayed
Silence broken mute
Who slept this heart
Who lost this soul
Sleeping in
Untouched bed sheets
A certain shadow
Talks
To tables shelves and dresses
Hanging from the ceiling
Dancing with sounds
Voices heard in the white noise
Screen saved dream
Moving through
Oblivion morn
Corner alone
All you see are
Hands
Touching
Untouched bed sheets
Spell betrayed
Who touched these palms
Who lost these fingers
Sharp veined skin veiled
Amazingly yours
Outstretched for
A dropp of water
A bit of a sound
A fallen leaf…
Anything
Dying in a web of palm lines
Nailed
Knocking at the door
Opening closing to keep the knock within
Spell betrayed
Pulling the strings of the sky
That makes the body move
Soul lost behind sleeping
Untouched bed sheets
Oblivion morn
Inspired by RUKE Darko Rundek
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A Puppet On A String
A puppet on a string is all that you are,
And all that you ever will be
Your told what to hear and what to say
And you're even told what you can believe.
You are not free as you were once before
As you gave that and your dignity away
Now you are told where to go and what to wear
And you were even told to change your name.
Your watched and not trusted wherever you go
And you must ask permission to leave
And that is the life that you chose for yourself
Now for you there is only shame and pity.
You're a puppet on the string as that is you
Your puppeteer tells you how to act
He tells you what to cook and when to sleep
And when to bed him and how to react,
But what can you do, as you have nowhere to go
Everyone knows of your lying and your ways
Your own daughters are confused because of you
Now they will be like you in their own adult days.
You changed your hair and you changed your name
Because your master commanded you to
To make him happy is what you want to do best
But sadly this situation for you isn't new.
You're a puppet on the string that's all that I hear
Wherever you might go or what you might say
You walk in the footsteps your master placed for you
And you will walk them until your dying days.
Your strings are pulled and then you will walk
Your strings are pulled and then you will obey
Your strings are pulled and then you will answer
And that's how you will be from day unto day.
No truth or loyally does your master have for you
Not even a vow to GOD or a wedding ring
But you never expect or accepted them anyway
As all that you are, is but a puppet on a string.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Puppetic Threats
Puppet!
Speaks in borrowed voice
Spews out threats
It has no choice
But makes the moves
Held by strings, obeys
Just to prove
All he says
In ego - 'Fire! '
That rocket lay
A puppet's ire
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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How champions are made
Im in the ring
The bell sounds
I throw a punch
We dance around
He moves his fist
I hit the ground
I look through mist
Muffled sounds
Boos and chants
An angry crowd
Continue to dance! ! !
Im up
I throw a punch
We dance around
He moves his fist
I hit the ground
Ruby liquids flow
I try to rise
I move to slow
He kicks me down
A whistle blows
Im pulled up
Continue to dance! !
He throws a punch
We dance around
I move my fist
He hits the ground
I stare down
No sound
The mist is clear
In his eyes
I see my fear
My hate
My distaste
In his features
I see my face
He is me
Whistle blows
I see my chance
I throw my fist
He hits the ground
No more whistle sound
The ref is down
I leave the ring
I am found
The crowd cheers
They dance around
Victorys here! !
A champ is crowned! !
poem by Elias Barcelona
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Pigeon
My life is in a peaceful state
Secure from red-headed tricks
Sequestered from hairy Neanderthals
High up in a watch tower of red brick;
We're always on the look out now
We watch the sovereign wood
For her freckles in uncordial light
Pretend-societys-refined-classy Ms. Robinhood;
She and her long time accompolice in crime
A Master peddler of flesh sales
Are suspects now in Olive Point
And must answer questions 'bout their trails;
The trails that they left behind them
When finishing up a yellow-eyed scheme
Once master manipulators of the money grab
In the once fertile soil of their pigeons evergreen;
By, Theodora Onken
February 23,2012
Another in My Series
About Psychopaths
The Criminal Element
In General...
Most Know All About
Doing Time But Once
Out Return To The Same Crime!
poem by Theodora Onken
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Yoga
Mind moves
with the breath
which fuels this articulated doll
from birth to death.
What starts out as routine maintenance
for a puppet with entangled strings
develops to a share in the dance
of the dragon that eternally sings.
But, first, the intention,
clear and well defined
for the retention
of the errant mind.
poem by Brian Taylor
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Long-Legged Fly
THAT civilisation may not sink,
Its great battle lost,
Quiet the dog, tether the pony
To a distant post;
Our master Caesar is in the tent
Where the maps ate spread,
His eyes fixed upon nothing,
A hand under his head.
Like a long-legged fly upon the stream
His mind moves upon silence.
That the topless towers be burnt
And men recall that face,
Move most gently if move you must
In this lonely place.
She thinks, part woman, three parts a child,
That nobody looks; her feet
Practise a tinker shuffle
Picked up on a street.
Like a long-legged fly upon the stream
Her mind moves upon silence.
That girls at puberty may find
The first Adam in their thought,
Shut the door of the Pope's chapel,
Keep those children out.
There on that scaffolding reclines
Michael Angelo.
With no more sound than the mice make
His hand moves to and fro.
Like a long-leggedfly upon the stream
His mind moves upon silence.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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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
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Sonnet: A Prayer to God
Amidst all chaos Lord, bring order God;
Amidst the darkness Lord, show me Thine light;
Amidst the atheism, give me Thine word;
Amidst my weakness show, Thine divine might.
Amidst life’s sultriness Lord, give me breeze;
Amidst the mire Lord, could Thou me pull?
Amidst life’s stresses Lord, give me mind’s peace;
Amidst the storms of life, give me a lull.
Amidst my despair Lord, give me new hope;
Amidst my temptations, God, let me win;
Amidst life’s hilly tracts, show me a slope;
Amidst my struggles Lord, let me not sin.
Amidst my foes and woes, show me haven;
Amidst my worldliness, give me Heaven.
7-27-2002 by Dr John Celes
Dedicated to all my siblings, who shared my
Joys and woes, in life on earth
poem by John Celes
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Look What Youve Done
I can borrow, if youve got the time
I never needed anybodys help to make up my mind
You wont be here long
Enough to stand out
Youre on fi fi fire till everybody finds out
Look what youve done, done to my head
Look what youve done, look what youve done
Done to my head, youve got me thinking
Maybe I will and maybe I wont
Maybe I cant but God only knows
I wont be the puppet strings you hold on
Come tomorrow, its a sign of the times
Its coming down now
Shelter wont save you my friend
So sit dow till you learn
And sit down till you grow
You mi mi mi might turn if youd only let yourself go
Look what youve done, done to my head
Look what youve done, look what youve done
Done to my head,
Maybe I will and maybe I wont
Maybe I cant but God only knows
I wont be the puppet strings you hold on
I see you depend over and over on logic
I cant understand
Who kept you floating, my friend?
Kept your head above water
Rough seas hit you harder
I should have just let you drown
Maybe I will and maybe I wont
Maybe I cant, but God only knows
I wont be the puppet strings you hold on
song performed by by Candlebox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sniper
Moves in the rocks with inching fingers.
We among the feathery banana trees
Imagine for him his aim: the steel helmet
And English face filling the backsight's V.
Again as it was last time, that spurting noise,
Thud, and the writhing figure in long grass.
until we match precision with precision:
We move ten men to one and have him then.
I saw the sniper in the afternoon. The rifle
Lay there beside him neatly like his shooting,
The grass twined all about his cap.
He had killed neatly but we had set
Ten men about him to write death in jags
Cutting and spoiling on his face and broken body.
poem by Bernard Gutteridge
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My Shadow Now Talks To Me
at the background
you whisper what to do
behind the drapes
and i am a fool
up there
you know what strings are
you are not seen
but you make a puppet
of me
i bluff you too
i dance like a puppet
i pretend i do what you tell me so
the show is over
and then i walk away
i like the way how disgusted you are
and when the distance is safe
i dance my dance
i do what i want to do
i sing to the sky
and the sky listens to me
i have my shadow
and now it is talking to me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Wish I Were In Love Again
The sleepless nights
The daily fights
The quick toboggan when you reach the heights
I miss the kisses and I miss the bites
I wish I were in love again
The broken dates
The endless waits
The lovely loving and the hateful hates
The conversations with the flying plates
I wish I were in love again
No more pain
No no more strain
Now Im sane
But Id rather be punch drunk
The flying fur of cat and cur
The fine mismatching of a him and her
Ive learned my lesson but
I wish I were in love again
The furtive sigh
The blackened eye
The words I love you til the day I die
The self-deception that believes that lie
I wish I were in love again
When love congeals
It soon reveals
The faint aroma of performing seals
The double-crossing of a pair of heels
I wish I were in love again
No more care
No more despair
Now Im all there
But Id rather be punch drunk
Believe me sir, I much prefer
The classic battle of a him and her
I dont like quiet and I wish I were
In love again
In love again
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The puppet
I am not your puppet
You can’t pull my strings
I will only dance
To the tunes that I play
Arms and legs sometimes freeze
I can’t pull my own strings
Paralysed by fear
I am the puppet
And the puppeteer
So I take a knife
And I cut those strings
They were holding me back
But now my spirit soars free
I lose myself in the rhythm
Of the up tempo beat
As I clap my hands
And stamp my feet
Anne Deborah Morgan
October 2009
poem by Anne Morgan
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Put Your Hand Inside The Puppet Head
As your body floats down third street
With the burn-smell factory closing up
Yes its sad to say you will romanticize
All the things youve known before
It was not not not so great
It was not not not so great
And as you take a bath in that beaten path
Theres a pounding at the door
Well its a mighty zombie talking of some love and posterity
He says the good old days never say good-bye
If you keep this in your mind:
You need some lo-lo-loving arms
You need some lo-lo-loving arms
And as you fall from grace the only words you say are
Put your hand inside the puppet head
Put your hand inside the puppet head
Put your hand inside
Put your hand inside
Put your hand inside the puppet head
Ads up in the subway are the work of someone
Trying to please their boss
And though the guys a pig we all know what he wants
Is just to please somebody else
If the pu-pu-puppet head
Was only bu-bu-busted in
It would be a better thing for everyone involved
And we wouldnt have to cry
Put your hand inside the puppet head
Put your hand inside the puppet head
Put your hand inside
Put your hand inside
Put your hand inside the puppet head
Memo to myself: do the dumb things I gotta do
Touch the puppet head
Quit my job down at the carwash
Didnt have to write no-one a good-bye note
That said, the checks in the mail, and
Ill see you in church, and dont you ever change
If the pu-pu-puppet head
Was only bu-bu-busted in
Ill see you after school
Put your hand inside the puppet head
Put your hand inside the puppet head
Put your hand inside
Put your hand inside
Put your hand inside the puppet head
Put your hand inside the puppet head
Put your hand inside the puppet head
Put your hand inside
Put your hand inside
Put your hand inside the puppet head
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Inside The Puppet Head
As your body floats down third street
With the burn-smell factory closing up
Yes its sad to say you will romanticize
All the things youve known before
It was not not not so great
It was not not not so great
And as you take a bath in that beaten path
Theres a pounding at the door
Well its a mighty zombie talking of some love and posterity
He says the good old days never say good-bye
If you keep this in your mind:
You need some lo-lo-loving arms
You need some lo-lo-loving arms
And as you fall from grace the only words you say are
Put your hand inside the puppet head
Put your hand inside the puppet head
Put your hand inside
Put your hand inside
Put your hand inside the puppet head
Ads up in the subway are the work of someone
Trying to please their boss
And though the guys a pig we all know what he wants
Is just to please somebody else
If the pu-pu-puppet head
Was only bu-bu-busted in
It would be a better thing for everyone involved
And we wouldnt have to cry
Put your hand inside the puppet head
Put your hand inside the puppet head
Put your hand inside
Put your hand inside
Put your hand inside the puppet head
Memo to myself: do the dumb things I gotta do
Touch the puppet head
Quit my job down at the carwash
Didnt have to write no-one a good-bye note
That said, the checks in the mail, and
Ill see you in church, and dont you ever change
If the pu-pu-puppet head
Was only bu-bu-busted in
Ill see you after school
Put your hand inside the puppet head
Put your hand inside the puppet head
Put your hand inside
Put your hand inside
Put your hand inside the puppet head
Put your hand inside the puppet head
Put your hand inside the puppet head
Put your hand inside
Put your hand inside
Put your hand inside the puppet head
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pulled And Attached By Strings
When you look at my face,
Do you see me?
Do you know...
What's,
Behind my eyes?
When you look at my face,
Can you,
Feel me?
And then...
Do you realize,
That I am not a puppet...
On your string.
When you look at my face,
Do you see me?
Do you know...
What's,
Behind my eyes?
When you look at my face,
Can you,
Feel me?
And then...
Do you realize,
That I am not a puppet...
Pulled and attached by strings.
When you see me,
No I'll...
Be no one's puppet,
Pulled and attached by strings.
When you see me,
No I'll...
Be no one's puppet,
Pulled and attached by strings.
Can you,
Feel me?
No I'll...
Be no one's puppet,
Pulled and attached by strings.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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