Gepetto - Revised

His eyes are like mine.
Innocent.
His smile, his cheeks, his face.
Lovingly crafted
(who else can tell you that?).
And then I breathed in him
(and me, as well)
an illusion of the rule.

But lo!--
though sparse and dainty--
A rotten tree trunk,
Moistened by tainted lips
and corruption from glass eyes,
seeps through the pores of his
soiled face.

And friends are rare, no doubt,
as he is blinded by the cool azure
of fairy dust
to pursue lustful desires
and fantasies--
these fairytale creatures!
Snakes of the sort.

But alas,
though a creation so beautiful, so perfect
(His smile, his cheeks, his face),
I've built with gears
solid as jello,
sturdy as ice,
prone to imperfection.

My little boy...
Black as the sun and pale as the moon,
forever exposed in broad interview.


This poem is about the imperfections of humanity and how God created humans with their own free will... About how He made his creatures "in his image" and "likeness", though still prone to evil, temptation, and sin. Gepetto is the God figure in this piece, as Pinocchio represents humanity in general.

Scrapbooks.

Tell me something.
(Oh, no. I didn't say to tell me the TRUTH.)
But "is it me you're looking for?"
I can't help but compare
(or is it YOU doing the comparing?)
I'm sorry that sometimes it's hard for me to trust you.
The rumors
The gossip
The lies
I only listen to that,
but not YOU.
Not your lips, no.
And I ask myself why
I would avoid the TRUTH over YOU.
You seem to hang on so dearly to the past.
(Ever so dearly.)
Can you move on?
Is there "room for me in your heart"?
Sometimes I wonder.
When you looked in that room--
for that old pamphlet--,
Were you looking for Her?
I read those past entries
(call me "Detective").
I know what she was to you.
But what am I to you?

A farfetched stalker, that's for sure.


I'm pretty much jealous here. I would think about my boyfriend's past girlfriends and would believe that he still thinks about them (romantically, perhaps) from time to time (although this is utterly false--hence the "farfetched stalker" bit). I don't remember in particular who the girl-in-question is... There are too many to name. But don't mind my envy. Happens to the best of us.

Gepetto

His eyes are like mine.
Innocent.
His smile, his cheeks, his face.
Lovingly crafted;
(who else can tell you that?)
And then I breathed in him
(and me, as well)
an illusion of the rule.
The rotten tree trunk,
Moistened by tainted lips
and corruption from glass eyes.

Yet he follows a fairy
to pursue lustful desires
and fantasies--
these fairytale creatures!

His smile, his cheeks, his face--
Black as the sun and pale as the moon,
forever exposed in broad interview.