Short Puppeteer Poems

rope in the puppet
glaze deep
puppeteer knows...

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if the puppet chooses to resist, what then can the puppeteer do...

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You’re my puppeteer,
Manipulating my love;
Emoting my strings....

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a gaze felt softly
     pulling on wistful heartstrings…
           your puppeteer eyes...

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I'm a marionette 
Managed on strings
With a puppeteer with narcolepsy 
So my mood drops to the floor
Until they wake 
And I dance again...

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DEATH ON A SPRING DAY

Death on a spring day
Outside all is bright and clear
He feels none of it
He dreams of fond times
Love    the dream world puppeteer...

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faint scent
of peppermint
permeates
his linens.

limp puppet
lies motionless
waiting for puppeteer.

By: Joyce Johnson
9/18/2012

For Contest Septolet the Puppet...

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lay crumbled on floor
her face alabaster white
red lips as though they had bled
     no life anymore
     beautiful blue eyes shut tight
     puppeteer had cut the thread.

13 January 2016...

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lay crumbled on floor
her face alabaster white
red lips as though they had bled
     no life anymore
     beautiful blue eyes shut tight
     puppeteer had cut the thread.



original date jan 2016...

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Long forbidding fingers dig deep in,
Appearing black contrast on pale skin,
The puppeteer directs your gaze,
A brief view but the vision stays,
Ruinous renderings plague the brain,
His dark imprint now shall remain....

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twisting in tingled arcs 
through a cold late september 
breeze, dancing in serpentine 
patterns to the puppeteer strings 
of the wind, a scrap of paper 
gracefully lands upon your windshield 
  
it says 
  
"GET F*CKED"...

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Kids Locked outside in the cold
Good News for the bears
The have something to hold
Now the child is the puppet
And the Bear is the puppeteer
You look for the children
But all you hear
"Mama, Papa I'm playing with the bear."...

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And at once there was me as I had always been
Stripped bare and weeping alone
Heart on a string being played by a puppeteer 
Eyes wide with knowledge and disbelief
Silenced by myself as others
Who would know?
Lipstick on and smile...

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puppeteer of the clouds
working a spray of gulls
one pecks away the strings
all the others do the same
stigmata daub their wings 
they plummet to the sea
souls draped in white lace
haunting the tips of waves
luna offers a slice of peace...

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Self-righteous oppressor
do not assume you’ve prevailed
you deem yourself clever
give into you – never!
puppeteer?
I say not!
you cannot hold me taut 
I sever the ties
where suppression lies
to witness unmarked chance
with a pair of unveiled eyes...

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A puppeteer and a columnist
Two greeting persons of great talent
A writer and a simple artist
Met in New York on a bench God-sent
Acquaintance that brought humor and scent
To watchers and walkers awed with skill
Moving and talking puppets that shrill...

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Pull my strings, or I can't walk.
Pull my lever, so I can talk.		

Made of plastic, with no heart.
As you wish, to tear apart.

Put me back, on my shelf.
I am no good, by myself.

Round and round, so we go.
You pull my strings, that's all I know....

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Funny when the marionette turns the table on the puppeteer 
Pull the kite down or release the string so the turbulent wind takes it?




When one line is not enough Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One 
Date written and posted: 06/02/2018...

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Just like a puppet on a string,
we’re controlled by the puppeteer
but love’s rhythm from our heart does spring,
beseeching God’s light to draw near.

The dreamer and the dreamed now one,
within us glows, light of the sun,
accompanied by a bliss surge,
corresponding to our soul’s urge....

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His strings are attached
But he is as still as a stone
Unable to move his wooden bones
The magic wand has no effect
He has eyes  that seem detached 
No pulse that anyone detects
The puppet master  sits in despair
 It is just as he had feared
Alas! ...the puppet has become the puppeteer!...

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death is very clear 
                 not like blurred reality 
               where snags just appear
           and if strings remain attached 
              we can find the puppeteer 


Bite Size Poem 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Line Gauthier
26/05//2021
Syllablecounter.net 5/7/5/7/7...

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I am controlled
They control me
Like a puppeteer
They pull the strings
Like a dog
They whistle
I come
I have no freedom
I have no choice
A slave in my own home
I want freedom
I can see it
But I can’t feel it
I dream of it
But it does not come
So I obey
Sad
Helpless
Alone
And controlled...

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A carpenter nails boards together
    The architect envisions the house
  The laborer sweeps up the progress
    A poet positions
    each stanza in the framework 
    of the universe... 

  The sun smiles, the moon yawns
    the stars wink
  On cloudy nights
    the puppeteer grouses about the pay...

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Puppeteer, oh Puppetmaster write my today 
and tomorrow put down my lines on paper, 
correct me when I am wrong, lets do a show 
together and when we are done throw me in 
your dusty closet and say I am useless, but 
remember I am just wood not any perfect 
then you are and one day I will be useful to 
you....

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Everyone is born a pedestrian
progresses as a big fleshy toad
lives as an edible sweet cookie
ends life as broken wheelbarrow

Dear human, be not proud then
Invincible power is puppeteer
every human is a comedy puppet
living in theater of broken promises

Let your eyes see your back
surely you discover who you are...

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