Best Barbie Poems
Barbie
from Loch
March 5, 1990
I fell in love in a biker bar
with a girl in chocolate hair.
It swept around her like a smoky fire
and woke up the beast in my lair.
Her bright eyes twinkled like brilliant stars
at the end of the moonless road--
they called to me like a siren song
to lay down my heavy load.
Tall she was like a square rigged ship
like a mast shrouded in clouds;
and she could dance like a foamy wave,
making Neptune cry out loud.
But the path of a ship is a bubble
and suddenly she was gone--
her chocolate hair and vanilla neck
are moments in my sad song.
This siren's memory seizes me
like cinnamon schnapps and a grin
which warm the body from the inside out
and settle a smile on your chin.
Her dancing hair drove my clouds away
and opened an azure sky;
and all I asked was a tall, thin ship
and two stars to steer me by.
Among all the women I've danced with
none are remembered so fair
as a girl who walked like a tall ship,
and had waves of chocolate hair.
In a world of opinions and plastic,
answers to questions become bendable ..
Stretching every which way, when elastic
We have Barbie and Ken, that are able
In a world of, all for me, some for you
Stretching in all ways, being elastic ..
Barbie says this, Ken has a point of view
which causes division, so much static
In a world of fairness, wrong verses right
Stretching in ways that is so dramatic,
views being unmatched, the pulling is tight ..
tension exists, in a world of plastic
Barbie and Ken tangle each point of view
In a world of, all for me, some for you
_________________
Just a little Scribble
~ Lingering thoughts ~
Still trying to understand
The little girl’s mom Tila,
worked hard to save enough money
It was her baby girl’s birthday,
how she loved her miel, her honey
She saw a Barbie doll that stood
in the window at Catarina’s Boutique
Wearing a traditional dress embroidered,
flowered details so unique
Sugar skulls glisten
a crown of marigolds adorn her hair
A Mexicana Barbie with long dark braids
nothing would compare
Complemented by a golden yellow flowery headband
The dolls face and body
a beautiful color of ochre, tanned
Spotted by the little girl
on their walk through the city
Calling out, que bonita!
Mamita she is really pretty
Maria Barbie printed on the box,
like hers, it was the same
She knew she had to have her,
when learned she shared her name
Tila rushed home to put the order in on the phone
The line went dead, there was a muted tone
She prayed the order went through that day
And hoped it would be received
on her daughter’s birthday
Because of the power outage in Pueblo,
a small town
The Barbie doll was gone,
lost and could not be found
Tila was sad when she told her miel
it was the last one of her kind
Don’t cry mamita, I already prayed another
little girl Barbie Maria will find
The children that played
On the stairwell that night
Were giggling and laughing
At their little friend’s fright
For while they were jumping
And playing on beds
She walked down the stairwell
Alone; then she fled.
She knew that she heard it.
The sound was quite clear.
Only she on the stairs
Along with her fears –
No one believed her.
They laughed; and she sighed.
Then, ran to their mother.
And told her wide-eyed.
The mother said softly.
There’s no need to fear.
The ghosts in this house
Are not real, little dear.
When at last she was calm
And went back up to play.
The children were ready
There were pranks on that day.
Upstairs in their bedroom
The lamplight was on
The window was open.
The breezes wafted by.
A Barbie doll taped
In the lamp by her hips –
The other girls giggled
Each one smirked tight-lipped.
When back with the others
They were jumping on beds.
Soon huddled together,
They pointed with dread.
The curtains were moving.
Subtle puffs of the wind.
Shadows on sheers swaying,
“We saw a ghost, there!”
She swore as she screamed,
I’ll never come back!”
“This place is haunted
And that is a fact.
No adult reassuring
Could undo her fright.
She stayed awake and watched
To the other girls’ delight –
When the party was over,
The children went home.
The others still laughing
About the joke of the night –
It was three years later
In the darkness of night,
I walked down the steps
And had the same fright!
Shhhhh!
Happy Halloween.
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
October 24, 2014
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest Ghost Stories
Sponsor Kelly Deschler
Little sisters enthralled
in a world of fairy tale
making sense
of the universe
role playing
in teeny high heels
and glam clothes
in a big pink castle
One learns to run the show
and grows up to be a director
while the other stays
caught up in the fantasy
of her Barbie and Ken reality
AP: 2nd place 2020
~Barbie Doll~
(Free Verse or Narrative poem)
She’s beautiful and she’s blonde
And she can be anything I want
Of her little girls are very fond
Of, and I collect them all and so my aunt
I play with them and collect them all,
I love my Barbie dolls since I’m very small,
I can’t resist their charm when they seem to call
And when I spot them in the store I just want them all
Yes, that’s Barbie, she’s so cool, and she’s so popular
I just love her to pieces, don’t you?
And she can be anything she wants
Barbie may be just a doll to you, but not to me
Barbie can dance and she can play too,
Barbie goes to school and has a family,
She’s a pretty gal and she can never grow old
Barbie is a special doll, and she shines like gold
She’s beautiful and she’s blonde,
She can be anything I want her to be,
Sometimes she’s blonde and sometimes she’s not
She has cars, she has houses, she has pets and she likes tea
She’s beautiful and she’s blonde
She can be anything I want
And of her all little girls are very fond
Of, and I collect them all and so my aunt
Barbie is so cool and Barbie is a star
I love my Barbie dolls since I’m very small
She can be anything I want
And when I spot them in the store I just want them all.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2007
December.28.2015
~Author's notes:
Poem was written from a little girl's point of view... her thinking about her growing Barbie dolls collection. Ah, children are so sweet when they're little :)
She was an aspiring starlet, a real cutie patootie
Folks were in awe of her natural beauty
She wanted to be a great Hollywood star
But she’s taken the surgery much too far
Her teeth have been fixed for a dazzling smile
They are unnaturally white now they stand out a mile
The Botox she had was to smooth her pale skin
But she can’t move a muscle much to her chagrin!
Her eyebrow lift gives her a startled expression
The desire for perfection has become an obsession!
She’s had Botox on wrinkles and fillers on lips
Liposuction drained 2 pints of gunk from her hips
In trying to obtain that perfect pink pout
Its gone terribly wrong she now looks like a trout!
Her breasts are augmented and they look quite obscene
Like over inflated footballs seen in a top shelf magazine
These two huge ‘flotation tanks’ are silicon filled
They are lumpy and hard but her boyfriend is thrilled!
But how did she pay for surgery which was so drastic...
She opened her purse and put it on the plastic!!
Date:05 11 17
Contest Name:Make me actually LOL 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
I remember children's laughter
carried on the breeze.
I remember wading in ocean water,
barely to our knees.
We'd walk for what seemed like miles
on days when the tide was out
trying to find deeper water.
It was there, we had no doubt.
Soft sand between our toes,
dodging a crab or two.
Giggling and splashing in warm waves.
That was me and you.
Those were magical days
and that beach still looks the same,
especially when the tide is out
and the ocean looks so tame.
When I smell the fresh ocean breeze
and it ruffles my graying hair,
I think back to those days
and I wish we both were there.
22/08/2014 for Barbie's 59th birthday tomorrow
Barbie’s precision, stiff, lounging in glamorous style,
Plastic pink body asleep in a brand new cardboard box.
Barbie, eyes still open, abused by many of Ken's wiles,
She was once truly human, her daughter opens the lock.
The key is that her daughter Tara, is now forty or more,
Barbie's truly brutal life has never been known before.
There is a real woman who modeled for Barbie, it’s true,
But the life of her daughter, no one ever really knew.
The real Barbie drank in dark tombs of sharp yellow scotch,
Daily she was drunk and passed out on the wooden floors,
Sleeping with numerous young men the names she forgot.
Bold and hansom men came in droves but never to adore.
While drunk, Tara was raped by one of Barbie’s drunken lovers.
Drafts of therapists came, yet, she never really recovered.
A mere child she was left with problems that shattered her dreams,
Mattel Toys and Barbie were not really what they seemed.
Mattel was owned and run by Barbie's real parents,
fashioning the doll after how the real Barbie would look and act.
Some said Barbie Doll was a fine model for young women, this made little sense,
But Barbie lost Tara's respect in reality and that continues as a fact.
Knowing this story I’d never buy that drunken toy, hoping
Tara grows strong and finds her life, after she's finished coping.
Barbie pink with buxom breast
Spread across a bony chest
Thus recline on bentwood chair
As she unfurls her blended hair
A passer by
A darker night
A fleeting thought
A fairer sight
Marble eyes with curled strong lash
Stare glazed as plastic living naught
Wander him across the street
Breeze on skin this night has brought
A corner turn
A friend to greet
A moment in this life to cheat
Who will occupy that chair when Barbie pink’s no longer there?
You think you could be me
With your bleach blonde hair
Your crimson lips
Your hooded stare
You think you could be me
I could be you
We could be thee
Maybe all three
Wearing your twiggy clothes
With an upturned nose
With a sexy glare
A high heeled dare
You think you could be me
Wear my ripped jeans
My wild curly hair
Feet that are bare
All my tattoos
I don't want to be you
With your liposuction
Your silicone
Why buy boobs when I have my own
Is that why you wanna be me
Change me
To fit your Barbie world
Where all the men
Look and act like Ken
Just so you know
I wanna be me not you
You in your
Plastic princess
Barbie townhouse reality
So let me be
A world where no one bakes
New age flakes have it done by their spirit guides
Where you and your friends are from the same mold
Plastic girls never get old
Where you dream your plastic dreams
All sterile and clean
Keep your Barbie world and all your plastic dreams
I wanna keep my world where my music sounds like primal screams
Where it's dramatized,glamourized,even heavy metalized
Where the color of the rainbows drown me in their swirl
Go ahead girl
Keep your Barbie dreams
I like being me
When I was young,
My mum bought me a black barbie doll,
I wanted a white one,
I cried and tried,
to convince her to buy me a white one,
all in vain.
she gave me no reason,
and it remained like that.
I never used to take care of Barbie,
Never used to comb her hair,
Or dress her up,
until one day,
When I looked at her skin,
it was like mine,
her hair,
it was like mine,
she was beautiful,
she was like me,
black in all aspects,
she had brown eyes,
red lips and was curvacious too,
I realised how beautiful she was
and named her BEEBEE,
I started dressing her up,
combing her hair,
and marvelling at her beautiful black skin,
I once heard that,
The darker the berry,
the sweeter is is,
I kept her away from too much sun,
too much rain,
I took care of her,
I was so afraid,
She would start fading
and become white or light brown,
she would no longer be beautiful,
she would lose her originality,
she looked so like me,
but I was prettier
my skin was darker,
more rich,
more beautiful.
If she could hear,
I wanted to boast,
of how I was more curvacious,
My skin was much richer,
my eyes were bright brown,
I wanted to boast how,
I can work most night and day,
Multitask and still find time to play,
I wanted to boast of how
I can speak my mother toungue
I can sing and dance,
I can dream and accomplish.
I wanted to boast aboutall this,
but she couldnt hear,
she was just but a plastic doll,
A beautiful black plastic barbie doll,
Her name was BEEBEE
I'm grown now,
I'm woman now,
I see now,
What mama tried to teach me in silence,
Why she refused to buy me,
the white barbie,
it taught me much,
am so in-love with myself now,
because I related with BEEBEE back then,
learnt my worth,
realised my beauty,
inside and outside,
I bet they were talking about me when they said,
the darker the berry,
the sweeter it is.
lights is a beautiful sight
music in the air , no has forgotten you've been there.
laughter of the children smiles upon their faces, little cars and barbie doll cases,
watching as little boys and girls began to pace,
lace and ribbons every where, pretty paper , even cut into squares,
smiles and song , paper and ribbon ,
knowing so many people have given
laying wake in their bed , dreams of candy canes in their heads
little ginger bread houses , in their visions, there;re to
little to make their decisions, christmas stocking hanging ,
around the tree, on christmas morning little children on their knees
smiles and laughter , giggles and song , make their world get alone.
Telephone 662 844 7165
BY Patricia Chambers
242 Bradley road
Tupelo Ms. 38801
Somedays I feel like crazy,
The world seems unhealthy.
My day seems boring,
And I don't know what to think.
I look out of my window,
To find trees and people I didn't know.
Daydreaming seemed to be my best hobby,
Dreaming of what if I was a barbie.
But then reality seem to slowly confront,
As I open my eyes, to find my homework still undone.
I grab my pen and rush over,
When will my studies be done, ohh dear!
15/6/2022
Ken sits and stares from his pink cadillac.
She’s unlike the pretty girl he dated.
Birthday suit stretched on tight over nude slacks.
She’s definitely not overstated.
Ken thinks his Godiva’s lost her mind.
Nevertheless he buys her a pony
to ride and a very long wig that blinds.
Barbie giddyaps — she’s fancy-free.
It is as simple as that, she’s cut out
her fashion wardrobe, wears no pantyhose.
She was a lifetime working girl, devout.
Tired of modeling, Barbie wears no clothes.
5/7/2021