Home: Poetry:
Where Marionettes Mock Their Manipulators
By Oscar S. Cisneros [ Download in MP3 ]
When I feel the tug-tug on my marionette strings
I know that the show will soon begin
And I am free to dance what my mind will dream
So long as it conforms to the scripted scene.
The tug and jerk on my flimsy little limbs
Begins my dance while my master sings
Of poets and dragons and sweet fantasy:
Words from my mouth and yet not from me.
My wrists, feet and head are tied and bound
And past the stage I see eyes all around.
They've come for a show and maybe a laugh
And to hear the thunder from a wizard's staff.
But though magic be true, here it is not;
Cheap tricks and poor jokes for some coins in a pot,
That's all there is, plus my master's manipulations
And the herky jerk of my awkward gesticulations.
Though he knows it not, my mind is free
And wanders down the path of freedom's deviltry
Thinking of plots and devices for an eventual escape,
I hide a pair of scissors behind my little cape.
These bounds I will snip and happily cut away.
I'll live in monotony until that wonderful day
When a harp will be strung with my marionette strings
And its tune will give life to my sullen limbs.
I'll dance and sing bound only by dreams.
My spirit's alight; my imagination teems
With passion and fire for what could possible be
On that day, that moment, when I am finally free.
And yet methinks I'm a liar when I tell this tale
About the little doll who waits for his freedom in jail
By watching the hourglass and its cascading sands,
For these words were set down by that marionette’s hands.
