The Puppets’ Father

A poem, translated…

You’d prayed to become a father

The looks of death

You said your joints are cold like the ends of the earth

And naturally

You’d feel quite ashamed

After ALL the cotton clothes are taken off

I’d tied, all your most fragile parts

After we’d hollered “One”

Then, you can begin

Tipped your toes to make a bow

The loosened strings made your hands waved

This movement that you made

Was once seen through

Once seen through by me

And the gaze, oh no

We couldn’t control that

Should we add some other strings

So you’d be able to see me better too

Clear or not

You said, that the poses of curling up would be the closest resembling

To that chest down posture in front of the doorsteps

Looking at our wooden bodies

Mimicking life

When you silently prayed to become a father

So you could approach him more and more, you’d recalled

That he had once, chosen to give up on

Singing you that sweet lullaby into your windows

And so now you sang, sang so loudly

The voice is filled with strings

Along with the clinking of the joints

The stiffened body without the companion dancer

A body, with nothing BUT solos to perform

In between graceful, beauty and crazy, kept turning over and over again

You’d faked our dances

Like how you’d made up a new way of speech

Took Over our bodies

And so, the puppet eventually gained control and started controlling others, and that, is how abuse still gets passed down, because the “father” passed down the way he was treated to his own offspring, even though he HATED being treated the way he had when he was little…

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Filed under Abuse, Abuse of Power, Awareness, Bad Parenting Behaviors, Because of Love, Cause & Effect, Child Development/Education of Children, Childhood, Coping Mechanisms, Creative Writing, Lessons, Life, Modeling Behaviors, Parent-Child Interactions, Perspectives, Philosophies of Life, Story-Telling, The Doll Corner, Translated Work, Trends, Values, Vicious Cycle, Wake Up Calls

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