The Puppeteer

you play with me I think, I know
clichés come to mind
puppet strings course sticks of wood
soon all become entwined

it feels good I think, I know
you still want to play
my puppeteer is in control
he’s not yet gone away

It’s a circus I think, I know
so keep it light and fair
I can bear the spinning top if
you keep a simple air.

It’s short lived I think, I know
a spotlight for a while
when the master gives the sign
don’t dally with goodbyes

you play with me I think, I know
it’s time to cut the string
I have somewhere I should be
a place where puppets sing.

©Julie Proudfoot


I’m thinking ’bout my bunnies
I sent them to the vet

ten thirty it’s about this time
stretched out upon the bed

glistening scalpel, twitching feet
it’s all too much to bear

I’m sure they will be cross at me
when I bring them home to her

her their little Granny bunny
she’s too little for their humpin’

squash her pound her bite her still
she loves them though for somethin’

a woman’s life she’ll bear it all
for just a little lovin’

take it though it’s sure to kill
her one way or another

after four I’ll pick them up
my boys no longer men

me guilt ridden can I look
them in the eye again

in a golden bed of hay
will they remember when

they lived life as gangsters tall
Kings amongst their women

©Julie Proudfoot

Three Small Stones

Three small stones
scooped from the ground
white and yellow and red

turning them over
and over again
feeling the words he said

quickly smoothly
in my pocket
not to forget this day

sacred jewels
of earths connection
when thoughts are far away

something to grasp
something to say
what did this day just mean

I’ll love you forever
he mouthed the words
no context or a ring

did he mean us never more
our love will last
not we

or was it the future
he spoke of
you and me to be

I’ll not know
the chance has gone
a moment turned to never

never to be
forgotten for
Ill keep my stones forever

©Julie Proudfoot

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