Figure of Freedom

The challenge said only to use the phrase Sweet Marionette. So I did? This is what I came up with on a rainy afternoon.

Life? It is I.. the damsel at the end of  fine strings

You pulled and tossed and whirled about at your whim

For so long, your sweet marionette- pale, demure,

Graceful lovechild of your frigid union with fate

Flailing when you said to flail only, letting you speak

For all that I was supposed to be holding inside

You twirled your hands just so... and I danced

I danced until I hated dancing, even hated music

For I did not realize there was a way to loose myself

 

One day, your little puppet on a leash had a dream

She had a concious thought, began sharpening her wit

Until the edge cut so keenly through the lines you held-

Sending her clattering to the ground, alone, but free

Bruised, but not shattered within or even without

She stood up, and for the first time, she invented

She invented a new dance, to a new song, by herself

But even more, she taught it to some others... your toys

Oh, whatever shall you do when the dusty shelf is empty?

 

No one need suffer the hand that holds the strings.

 

 

Author's Note

The challenge said only to use the phrase Sweet Marionette. So I did? This is what I came up with on a rainy afternoon.

Reviews

[Phill Oz O'fee]

By succumbing to the power of your imagination and creativity, you have allowed your gift to produce a professional and outstanding composition. A worthy contest entry, but even if this was not the case - the poetic metaphorical imagery is dazzlingly special.

An excellent write!

Phill(ozofee)

[Michael X]

Constance, This is touching and I sincerely enjoyed reading this poem.
Reading the metaphorical meaning, there is much to consider,
what I liked most is the imagery and passion- an emotional portrait.
what I liked least is the form, and punctuation, but I can't say
that it took away from the quality behind the feeling, beautifully written.

[AK]

Very nicely done!

[Pax Analog]

Excellent! Yes indeed, wit is the cutting tool for severing the strings of manipulation, be they obviously known, nearby in the flesh, or the more insidiously "invisible hand" of the downside of capitalism, or simply wholesale acculturated zombiehood (the first "Night of the Living Dead" was a '50s political allegory). And the first thing your freed former puppet does is dance to her own secret song. Beautiful! Thanks for sharing this!

[Michael Carr]

very wonderful. it fits fine into the challenge.
beautfiul imagery, a nice rhythm and flow.
one of the most beautiful poems i've read on the site.

well done constance.

[dilettante1890]

This is so lovely! There's not a thing I don't like about it. And to top it all off you are a Constance, like me!

[alyssa]

you did such a good job!!! love it!! keep writing!!!

[Omar]

Constance. You're pure genius.
You have a way of taking a simple concept, a simple idea, and just embellish it in the most beautiful, beautiful ways. You truly know the meaning of spiritual, literary, and poetic approaches to life. It's just brilliant. And a clever topic around which to build your "sweet marionette"-based poem. You did a hell of a job. My favorite expressions were these:
"Graceful lovechild of your frigid union with fate" (It's so bittersweet, harsh, realistic, paradoxical)

"She had a concious thought, began sharpening her wit
Until the edge cut so keenly through the lines you held-" (I love the way the "sharp" wit was actually depicted as a sharp object cutting through the strings of opression and control. A very dramatic scene)

And the way you twisted the words to make up the title. Shrewd!

Thanks for sharing. Loved it,

O