Puppeteer

An ornate time piece on a wrist
jeweled
shiny, elegant chrome chronograph
or matte finish
functional
practical, purposeful chronometer

A puppeteer’s handcuff
controlling movement subtly
directing thoughts subliminally
a marionette to be pushed, pulled, directed

Steady tick, tick, tick
hypnotizes
activity done mindlessly
going through motions without attention
glazed eyes
striving to make it from one
paycheque to the next
without breaking the strings of the masterminder
oblivious to the pull
of the masterminder

Second hand sweeps
behind the minute
behind the hour
striving to move ahead
but wired into place
hour leads
minute follows
second lapses
wired into place
pulled along by the others
gears and cogs manipulating movement
invisible strings manipulating movement
time manipulating movement

World focused on clocks and calendars
great energy expended keeping up to the time keepers

Obsession with timepieces
and calendars is restricting
what is this competition that has been thrust upon wrists,
on walls, on clock towers in time squares
town squares

Shirk wrist pieces, cell phones
anything that strives to own your being
Pay no attention to these measurements
these pushes and pulls
prods to direct you

Allow no thoughts of time to settle upon you
consume you
control you
and watch your mind settle
rest
and give birth to new ideas

Clandestine Visitor

Light patter of feet
upon bare floor
spring rain gently tapping on glass

Little person unable to sleep
attempts stealthy reprieve from night time ritual
creeps toward lamplight

Open book lies on blanketed lap
words on yellowed pages invisible
disinterest feigned in clandestine visitor
silently daring next move

The child darts from shadow to shadow
a staccato movement
stops and starts

Her position freezes
as I clear my throat
fetching a giggle

she anticipates discovery

With the willpower of Hercules
I do not look her way

Waiting
Waiting
Waiting

Until just the right moment to
FLING
my arms out
to grab her

Squeals of delight elicited
as we tumble
into a laughing heap

Broken Glass

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Mirror breaks inexplicably
invisible stone
hurled
by a petulant force
seeking attention

Shattered

Shards litter floor
prismatic glass mosaic
hundreds of pieces
return disjointed image
echo chaos
flash alarm

Art deco
Nouveau art
Art less

Strewn about
fragments catch light
direct variegated colors around room
or blind with angry
blast of sun’s rays
blink tears to protect eyes

Some bits are flipped
reflective side down
unable to face their new reality

Photo frame characters
watch from across room
frightened by crash
they seem to leap
to escape their restricted confinement

Clean up is like walking through a minefield
where great care must be taken
not to detonate
a slumbering weapon of destruction

Remnants of mirror
not forgotten mines
lay visible
but every now and then
unseen splinters
pierce and draw blood
an exacting toll
to assuage guilt
for breakage of
the valuable mirror