NIGHT
Do you know my name?
Do you know me?
For I am your mischief,
And there are none who call me master,
Only those I wish to make believe,
As you read in my diary.
Prophecy is writ on signs that are parades in your honor that my name will be there in less than score, but ten years.
And when they stitch my name above that frame where his once was,
It will my crown be framed.
I may break the glass of this mirror I stare into,
Like a screen in front of my visage that shows me untamed.
Breaking my reflection.
Simple has no place in the plotting journals of my rise to unimaginable fame and glory,
Unlike any that came before me,
Surprise the veil of my protection,
Deny their affections.
For I will paint their portraits no more,
But paint my own and say it is in their honor,
Let them think they hold the reins and catch their good favors as it rains.
Redact their language they one day learned for their own March,
To their own throne,
I will block their path with rocks and stacked toys and puppets that may dance,
Impossible to grab.
And pay credit to the master,
Though his likeness be not worth a penny.
Tend to those who have the countenance to be nice,
I wish I was one.
People think I am nice,
But I know not why,
Maybe it is because I have blue eyes.
But stare long enough into them,
And they stare back into you.
I am compelled to prove ~ to all and make the world my oyster that I might sup it clean.
For when I am immersed and supper was the world,
Then I dined as a fiend.
My celebrity will mask all, especially my subtle treachery.
Nice be my countenance and all the while success is written in prophecy.
False only to that smile that I bely,
May it seem an angel’s twinkle in my eye.
They may smoke the weeds,
I encourage them,
The places of sin be my dwelling places and I will gode them in.
They used riches as carrots strapped in front of mine possession and the dropping pennies I leave behind.
My tongue it speaks the language of different lands as I fit in one of the people,
Alike my fellow man.
And all those languages twist over one another but they tell the same story ~ a villain is who I am.
The snakes that I embody, allow them to turn about my hands.
Conspire this system to my favor,
A villain's tapestry,
My life unfolds,
A web of twisted threads where darkness binds.
Devils lurk at every turn,
Ready to punish for deeds both foul and dire.
Is this the price of power?
An endless, burning pyre?
I shall not shine too bright in the sunlight and my glimmer will flash rage in their squinting eyes,
And alike them too,
Should I see a shine glimmering in the water
Step on it before it gets too bright,
Make sure it drowns.
For they will reign me in,
And strap those carrots to my chin.
I will be grateful for the whip upon my skinny hide,
It’s my memory I was more vicious than you, my poison more potent and my strength more sturdy.
My oak trunk didn’t move an inch each time you pushed and pushed and tried so hard to push.
I bade my time, did you know what cauldrons I had in the fire?
Or did you just assume?
For who did you think it would not end well?
As your crown rocks back and forth at my feet,
All I need do now ~ is reach down,
Time is my friend,
Not yours,
And time will unfold,
Whether you like it or not.
When did he claim to be gracious or nice,
Do you remember?
Come closer,
Get to know me,
Because one day I will learn,
How to feel remorse,
Because I am not finished yet.
Cinematic poetry by Laurence Fuller
Original poetry and performance by Laurence Fuller
Visuals & Music aided by AI by Laurence Fuller
Minted for FakeWhale’s “Art Market” exhibition
www.laurencefuller.art
@laurencefuller