Mike Acker


Throughout my life I thought I was free
until recently, when I began
to see the faint, shadowy lines
of strings attached to me directing
all my activities. I sat
on many a couch discussing my life's
tragedy convinced I was the master
of my own destiny.

But the constant yanking of these strings,
above and beyond me, dispelled all notions
of autonomy. The gods' hands, or God's hand,
or demons lurking, or even my subconscious
stirring were all seen as causes for my
anomalies. But no one felt the inner and
outer pulls and tugs as only I could feel
that directed my life and destroyed

any hope of prosperity. And every time
I came close to looking up, to try
to see my masked, master puppeteer
hovering above and just beyond me,
the strings on my feet would suddenly
be yanked so forcefully, that my face
would turn downwardly in a state of utter
and abject humility, dashing

any hopes of being able to see
the face of what has always been
manipulating me. Then, the fear
would grow within me that if I were
able to finally glimpse the face
of this puppeteer, I may discover
that the mask he wears is of a face
of no other than me.

Submitted: Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Edited: Friday, January 03, 2014

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Comments about this poem (Strings by Mike Acker )

  • Gold Star - 15,606 Points Roseann Shawiak (1/3/2014 2:20:00 AM)

    Totally intense poem - I loved it. Yes we are all the master puppeteers of our own destinies and fate. Wearing masks so no one will no who to blame for mistakes or errors in judgment - not even ourselves. Great write. Thank you for sharing. RoseAnn (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 10 Points Fiona Schwartzinoff (12/30/2013 11:14:00 PM)

    strong, intense... I like it. :) (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 122 Points Gideon Arthur (12/12/2013 4:01:00 PM)

    True. God doesn't control our paths or the decisions we make which will propel us forward or draw us backward. We are the ones behind the mask. the puppeteer. (Report) Reply

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