Worn Out Puppets

The pillow soaked up words, worlds
floating into focus on platform clouds
spilling onto the quilted coverlet
a smooth hewn surface of fanciful reality
He lived in the small crevices in and
between and almost entirely inside 
the magic trunk that was his mind
peeking through a veil of curtain 
(just long enough to gather crumbs)
into the world outside
and then hastily to scurry back again
locked safe within
Sheets pulled up tight under his chin
He slept and dreamed and spun webs
silken tapestries of dream
dark and wondrous
fearful chalk monsters
and fragrant sprinkling pixies 
swelling and burrowing
full with equal portions
doubt and vibrato
a kaleidoscope of characters
dancing across a water colored landscape
trapped inside a sleeping marionette
asleep inside a dusty attic trunk
 

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

wow this could be an allegory...and it hits home...my dad was with my mom 70 years, she is gone now...he is at my sister's ...and he sleeps most of the time...maybe that is his safe haven, since she is gone...
his hiding place from life without her.

well done.

[Kristina Moulaison]

Thank you, Jacob! I'm sorry about your Dad. I know how hard that is to watch.

[Adam Whitworth]

I've felt compelled to stay with this one for some time, reading it through again and again. Only fine strong poetry can have such an effect, thank you very much and well done, bravo. I would say 'between' bothered me as not quite fitting in normal language but it may be OK poetically. The lines between 'webs' and 'trapped' although very good- well done again- cry out for a little tweaking improvement.

[Kristina Moulaison]

Thanks Adam! It does need some work. I just threw it up yesterday. :) I appreciate it.