Treasure Island

Kurt Kacich

Dancing Puppets

It’s the art of what we call manipulation,
It’s the blind cursor the mind reads without stipulation,
Genius, used in advertising and behavioral force, an innovation,
It’s the art of subliminal messaging, or subliminal stimuli,
Through extreme low levels of sound your ears become the voice inside your mind,
With that voice you become the puppet hanging from the strings of malign,
Something so unique, your brain picks up the message before your ears and eyes,
A puppet to manipulation, the victim of something peculiar, rainfall with words,
Words of adjectives describing to persuade, action persuaded by verbs,
The art that feeds on brainwaves of unconscious mind, thought process disturbed,
In beautiful sounds of music subliminal messages are recorded in reverse,
Called backtracking, it’s persuades the mind with low level sounds and emotional ions disperse,
The strings above pull from the hand of manipulation as the puppet dances with the devil with no need to rehearse,
The unconscious mind the puppet, the genius manipulator being the puppeteer,
The puppeteer described as a ghost figure with the only two things visible the two hands,
Hanging from the string, the puppet dances with emotion from the left hand of demand,
Emotion influenced by silence, and the rainfall of blinking words descending from the right hand,
The rainfall of subliminal stimuli, precipitated from the more powerful right hemisphere, without obvious will to understand,
The more beautiful and expressive the mind, the more powerful the subliminal stimuli,
The more beautiful and expressive the puppet, the more it dances from flashes in the eyes,
The beautiful puppet with a beautiful mind, it’s slavery from free will in disguise,
With every step and every motion is manipulated by clouds casted in two hands relentless until satisfied,
Words so powerful through silent measures, the silent command,
Where the mind picks up instructions and makes decisions with impulsion, no will to understand,
The decisions influenced by the puppeteer from four limbs hanging from a strand,
So adorable and innocent the puppet with rosy cheeks and a smile on the face,
Surrounded by quicker than light-speed flashes, of paradise, beauty, love and everything that’s great,
Rainfall descending down from the right hand words representing beauty and happiness, which represents this Imaginary place,
Until the flashing of such beautiful images slam the breaks and come to a screeching halt,
Where the storm picks up and the rainfall of words turn to adjectives of pain, sorrow, and fault,
The flashing images become tortures, suicide, shackles, chains, and shadows projected from the darkest vaults,
So gloomy the puppet, with a frown on its face and tears that drip from its eyes,
Without freedom of will, the mind manipulated by words and images comprised,
Images of everything from good to evil from bolts of lightning from the skies,
The most manipulating of arts the rainfall turned to hailstorms of verbs and adjectives intertwined,
An art so influential and deadly, that only the brain can define,
The art of subliminal messages, deadliest of words and images, ingeniously designed,
The puppeteer the master of manipulation, illuminati from divine,
Storms never cease, influence in society of puppets dance around rings of thoughts all the time,
The art that forever manipulates the mind.

Submitted: Thursday, May 27, 2010

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