The puppets talk to each other

The puppets talk to each other

The Puppets talk to each other
As they are taken out of their boxes
They are brought together on stage

They have so much fun together
Pointing their wooden fingers at each other
Laughing like parrots at the gangle of days

See them in the pub on a Friday night
Sitting at tables in the scoured moonlight
Tangled up in rope-dreams

Talking about Mr. Polly and swinging their clubs
Strangling Mr Policeman and breaking their mugs
While I sit alone all-day-long under a star

It might have rained

It might have rained a little
The blackbirds would be singing
The moon would be like a large shiny eye

A couple might have been arguing
A cart might have passed me by
A teenager drunk on wine singing

And there I stood, outside the window
Looking up, trying to catch what was being said
Glimpsing their shadows cast by the lamps onto the ceiling

I am backtracking

I am backtracking through my mistakes
To my days of innocence
I am backtracking thru the darkness
To my days of naivety

What a great forest I find myself in
How lost I am in my own mistakes

I want those days of innocence
When normal life was possible
When my heart was whole
When love was just one day away

Those six-sided days of childhood
That became twisted out of shape like a rubric cube

My blood does not compare to the sea

There is a hole in my wrist
The waves lap all around me
My blood does not compare to the sea
It could never fill the ocean

I will build a red sandcastle
I will build its walls around me
I will fill its moat with my blood
So that no more harm will come to me

Now here is my own river
Flowing from my heart into the sea
On either side, weeping willows grow
As you sail your ships into my dreams

I am the flood of truth

I am the flood of truth flowing along with the seaweed
Looking for a weakness in your defensive levees

Oh, big city of pillories where do you hide your mistakes
The binocular eyed seagulls fly over you
The dolphins hear your conspiracies

Yesterday, the rain filled your streets
There, at last, is the full moon
The levee wall is breached
The floodwater fills your ministries

Out with the lies and deceits
In with the seaweed and the sewage
Now the rivers will be freed
Now the clock tower will be silenced

And all the northern people
The ones who you intimidate
Will look down from
On how you were dealt with and recrimination

Author: blackbird212012

I am interested in multimedia work: songwriting, art, and creative writing. I have been involved also in theatre and music performances.

3 thoughts on “The puppets talk to each other”

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