Portrait Of A Marionette

——————————————————————————-

Going back, I lock the gaping door

I tiptoe up each step of my caracole

Brush the dust from my feet

Coat my eyes in black kohl

Tie a hair-ribbon in limp curls

.

The puppet-girl takes her place

Fastens the manacles of spiders’-thread

With clammy palms devoid of fingerprints

Smooths the taffeta and the lace

I wait for the tug, the sign to perform

Perform to the beat of acapella silence

.

Standing high up in the scaffolding

My bones too stiff to shake

I can no longer hear the morning

As I’m dropped to the empty stage

The hidden now on display

I will dance till they yank me up

.

My smile hard and senescent

I dance near the border,

Am jerked along to clichés

Acquiescing, I glide along

Prancing in nebulous puddles

.

The dance effectuated, I bow to the vacant seat

The adamantine moon my only gallery

The dull flecks of stars my faithful audience

.

 Copyright © Bethany Richardson 2012

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “Portrait Of A Marionette

  1. Ayasonice says:

    I’ve been reading this one over and over again. You often give me so much to think about. I’ll share it on twitter. Keep dancing girl and someday the world will notice!

  2. Goodnight! You are seriously good! Imma have to get my wife to come read your poetry…she will really be blown away!

Leave your thoughts

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s