Best Mannequins Poems

Iconoclastic lots of marshiest beauty

Clenched sublime altruistic nature bore –
Morals indefatigably humbled, reasoning in bondage –
Bondage of the highest periphery
Blessings encountered in watered chaos.
Blocked nuts with scanty feelers,
Inducing mere bouts of euphoric impasses
Rarely a gift of fatherly nature.
Hay filled tubs called but heads
Preferably a misfortune...

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My hands are bleeding
My face is dirty
My clothes are rags
This is my reality

Talking to myself in third person
She, her, them
What's with me?
I want to be her too

Walking down the street 
Looking at myself from outside mirror 
I'm different from those stick thin mannequins
I'm broke, but...

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It is here
In this alley littered with trash.
Where a man drives alone in the night.
	Braking.
	Motioning.
	Waiting.
Where a high-heeled woman bends down to his window.

It is here
On this street I come to find you.
With your skin that is smooth.
With your face twisted and pale
And a name no...

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Solid mannequins stand in the shop of society wearing clothes that they think is right to wear because of the sheep. Being put, put in poses and having photos taken of there empty faces. They're everywhere surrounding me in places, faces I can't distinguish. People...

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i never know where to start with you,
so i just choose to walk away and end it
it makes no sense to cause anymore stress,
so instead of confronting i bookend it
my life is a hole in the wall circus with bogus clown paint,
and as a result...

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Tranquil mannequins,
You'd think they are showcasing
Perfect harmony,
But their lack of expressions
Is simply restrained anger...

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The mannequins put on skin 
pretending to be human
feigning familiarity 
with lives they’ve never lived
performing a pantomime 
of proficiency in poverty
the wisdom won from doing without
playing the part of people 
they consider inconsequential
believe are below them
with whom it would be unsuitable 
to be seen socializing
unworthy...

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People/Mannequins

I speak to them
I sit next to them
What appears to be still limbs

No smiles, only in place do they stand
Yet they seem to no longer 
Appeal to the unreserved face of this man

I no longer bother to greet them
Should I
It’s become a non movable film

“a...

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The Second Year of Barely Breathing
David J Walker

When can we breathe again 
exhaling the dust
Of a long-lost day
Safe from the safe distance

Look them in the eye and pray a prayer
Of resistance to the unknown God of goodbye

Our Father 
If we ever 
get to sit together...

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Winged mannequins dot the forest trail,
forest fairies in the dale -
so lifelike in their chalkware skin,
unexpected in the vale.

Stumbling under their glossy gaze,
lost inside a leafy maze -
I back up slowly, turn and run,
clawing through the morning haze.

"Join us", they plead now - reaching, falling,
all...

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