Long Dolls Poems
Long Dolls Poems. Below are the most popular long Dolls by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dolls poems by poem length and keyword.
I was innocently playing around one day,
when along came a man who told me his name.
I wasn't scared for this man I knew.
He took me in his arms and held me close for a few.
In my ear he whispered, "I love you."
A smile plastered on m face, I whispered back, "me too."
The safety I felt shattered at my feet,
as this man I loved made me a treat.
He started with a kiss, this was true,
But it wouldn't stop there--somehow I knew.
He reached down and touched my breast.
My tears fell down my cheek as I waited for the rest.
Next, his hands were between my legs.
I was paralyzed by fear at this stage of "play".
"Where is my Mother? My Father? My Brother? Those I trust?"
My heart has broken, now I'm crushed.
I waited forever as he did what he wanted.
This friend, this father, this uncle, this brother.
No longer a man, but now a monster.
Holding me down, doing what he will.
I'm trying very hard to be perfectly still.
I'm so little, made smaller by Him.
"When will this be over? When will it end?"
Each second an eternity, as the pain just begins.
"What is he doing with his 'thingy'? Why is he putting it in?"
I'll never be bad or do wrong again! What did I do to deserve this sin?"
It's all my fault! I know it is!
My mom will blame me because the sin isn't his
What did he pick me to change forever on this day?
Think of your dolls, your bear, your toys.
But whatever you do, don't make a sound."
The smell of his breath, his cologne, his hair.
I want to scream at him, but I don't dare.
I'll never forget this day, this time, this now awful place.
"Thank God he's done! NO! DON'T! He did. He kissed my face."
"This is our secret. Tell no one else! They wouldn't understand!
They can't see your a little woman, and I'm but a man!
I don't want to hurt you, but if you tell,
I'll make your life a living hell!
No one will believe you! No one will care!
So speak your mind--If you want--if you dare!
I'll kill your family! I'll kill your dog!
You will be punished for your dialog!
I will tell them you're crazy. You're going nuts.
There's no one you can tell! No one you can trust!"
He's done what he did, and now he's gone.
This secret is too big, I can't keep it alone.
I'll tell my mother, but not on the phone.
'Mom!' I called. 'Mom!' I cried."
With a heavy heart and tears in her eyes,
she lifted her shoulders and let out a sigh.
Cracked windshields,
cracked sidewalks,
broken hopes,
sad dreams,
hurry before the fire starts,
and your good friends leave you
and your enemies take you over,
hurry before people cry out
for the happiness you possess
they with suck you dry like a bone
and take you for granted;
when they need you,
they are nowhere to be found,
just check the coffee shops
and bookstores;
they'll be there,
hiding and betraying and kissing your dream girl
or that real cute guy you really like a lot.
See you can't see the open road with a cracked windshield
in a rainstorm,
but just remember that you can always get it fixed
and the charge will be free;
but keep driving with a cracked windshield
you will regret it! - Don't regret life,
for it is a special gift.
Pave that road or sidewalk gold,
see that love is in the air all over,
not just for a certain few,
Love is in the air,
sing it! Sing it so loud
that the people will see your true beauty
if they stick around long enough to see your true self.
Cracked smiles,
with chiseled abs and rock solid chest
and a nice face,
that is all we want in life,
we don't want brains,
or logic,
or a sense of humor,
if so we'd be with someone long ago and happy with them...
NO! We want the bikini body,
the beach body,
that hour glass figure,
and we want our teeth straight,
and our breasts enlarged
and our horoscopes read from the TV.,
we want birthday candles on a huge chocolate cake
and we want money and time and fame and that dream body
and we walk and walk and walk blinder than the day before and the day before that,
that we don't look at that one thing that is truly perfect...
and that is the heart, the soul,
the heart and soul never receive cracks
because they’re not fake and cheap materialistic things.
We never stop and realize that we should be happy about the cracked windshield,
and the cracked smile and cracked teeth and cracked sidewalks,
because we aren't Barbie’s and Ken dolls,
no we are human beings,
created to bound and be tortured by temptations
and admit to their mistakes,
even if they don't want too.
We are unique with or without that crack,
but never pave that crack,
never pave that pothole,
because that is a mistake in your open road called life
that made your journey unique!
Cherish those cracks
cherish them forever.
12/4/13
The only thing she ever wanted to was to be the thing he needs,
To heal him when he bleeds,
To dig out all his weeds.
But the truth is he's remorseless and is full of rage and greed,
And though he sees her beg and plead,
She's just a book he'll never read.
He sees it as a game and it's the kind he loves to play,
Hope on the string he yangs away,
He's there with no promise to stay.
And even though he says he doesn't care, he's in his room,
Content to wallow in his doom,
High off the scent of her perfume.
She knows his kiss is venomous, but she's caught in his web of doubt.
She knows that he's the devil, but they're dancing nose to snout.
And hopefully she'll find out pretty soon, what he's about,
'Cause if she wants to survive his bite, she'll suck the poison out.
But she tries to love the one who tears down bridges and builds walls,
Ignoring all her cries and calls,
Treating girls like paper dolls.
Yet he chooses to deceive her with his silver forked tongue,
A piper with the songs he's sung,
Twisting her 'til she's come unstrung.
And god and everyone else knows he just wants someone to follow,
Feeds her booze for her to swallow,
Now from the inside out, she's hollow.
And as her vision starts to blur, she's dizzy and unwell,
With no known cure to break his spell,
She's burning in the pits of Hell.
She knows his kiss is venomous, but she's caught in his web of doubt.
She knows that he's the devil, but they're dancing nose to snout.
And hopefully she'll find out pretty soon, what he's about,
'Cause if she wants to survive his bite, she'll suck the poison out.
She may not be a hero or an angel, but she's brave,
'Cause he's the one she wants to save,
And he's the one she'll always crave.
But no one really knows him, he's a master of disguise,
All the words he spews are lies,
Will she ever realize?
When she learns to look beyond his mask her soul my die,
Because all she does is try,
While he leaves her high and dry.
If he pokes and prods her heart, and if his demons domineer it,
She'll scream loud enough to hear it,
No, He'll never break her spirit.
She knows his kiss is venomous, but she's caught in his web of doubt.
She knows that he's the devil, but they're dancing nose to snout.
And hopefully she'll find out pretty soon, what he's about,
'Cause if she wants to survive his bite, she'll suck the poison out.
when i think of you.
i remember when mama
brought you home.
i can still see her coming
up the sidewalk at
grandmas' house
as if it were yesterday
i thought you were mine.
i believe that is the first time
i felt pure crystal clear love
for another person in my life.
i remember when you were sick
and we lived on bear mountain
daddy put us in the car and....
mama held you upside down
and claimed later she did not
mean to
so you were wrapped up upsidedown
there i am crying like a banshee
and saying, is she going to die
and the parent people could' t
do anything to shut me up.
the memories are coming faster
of all the fascinations and mysterious
things we were curious about
during the lazy summers that
seemed to us never could end.
we laid on the grass and named
who the clouds looked like
we dressed our cats in clothing
that we made granny sew
for us, waded water where we
should not go and we looked
at everything in this big
wonderful world.
oh, and do you recall when i
read to you about the ransom
of red chief and you laughed
so much. i could make you
laugh so hard.
then.....there was that time at
the newspaper office. you know,
the one time i disowned you
before the time i disowned you
of being my sister...........the time
i took you to school for show
and tell. and you ran off and didn't
act right at all. that was a deal
breaker.
i could talk you into anything. you would
ask me questions........like ......Jo
why is so and so and i would proudly
tell you the answer because i was older
and so much more knowledgeable....
well, at least you believed that
remember...the sweet times when grandma
said we had to take a nap .....and we wouldn't
go unless she went and got a pretty little yellow
chicken in bed with us.
i love the memory of the dresses that granny
made us. poor granny she would do
anything we wanted.
i know that this is long, but the
times keep flooding back to me
and for me it is worth thinking
looking back at the snapshots
in my mind and knowing how
happy we were
i recall how you continuously
would lock the door to the upstairs
of that big scary house and i
would cry.
i got you back with all the
paper dolls i talked you
into buying and you hated them...... to be continued....
Form:
Vicks Mentholatum. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
I sometimes open the jar and stick my nose in for a little smell
Which turns into a big smell, a little on my nose, some around my
Neck, and finally I beg my husband to slather it on my back while
I saturate my chest with it.
This smell loves me, calms me, and nurtures me like no other.
I probably spent the first ten years of my life slathered like this,
It brings back memories of mother, warm cocoa, soft scarves, and books.
Nothing opens my soul up faster than Native American flute music. It brings
out my wolf wild side. I want to run to a cliff and howl at the moon. It takes
me instantly to Sedona vacations, turquoise jewelry, kachina dolls, bringing the
American Southwest into my heart, and healing the sad places.
Almost everything I see delights me – shiny things, natural things, new things. But the thing that makes my heart sing the fastest is the sight of my grandchildren. Any one of them. I have ten, and it does not matter which one is coming toward me. There is a surge of happiness that leaps through me in a boundless joyful way that cannot be described. It is a craziness that must be lived and felt.
Beans will be the death of me. My favorite tastes all include beans. It is a toss-up which one
I like the most – jalapeno peppers stirred in refried beans, barbequed beans, kidney beans, pork and beans, and ham and beans. I salivate when I think of any of these. It is a spontaneous reaction that I have never been able to quell. When I was a child we ate lots of beans, so maybe that is where this is coming from. I have no idea. But I know these are my favorite meals. I am a cheap date.
What do I not like to touch? The list is tiny. I am a tactile learner. To teach me, you have to let me grab it, shake it, spin it, toss it, catch it, and rub it. I touch wallpaper, woodwork, and metal file cabinets in offices. I touch ants, rocks, flowers, grasses. I hug trees. I hug people. I am a professional toucher.
Possibly my favorite touch is warm, sudsy bath water after a trying day. I immerse myself, washing off sadness and disappointment, thinking of the Vicks Mentholatum which I will slather on when I get out.
Written: July 27, 2018
Entered: My 5 Senses Contest Sponsor: Viv Wigley
Mideast Peace: Oxymoron
Though descendent of Jews,
I feel boggled at the brutal,
nasty and wanton war between
Israelis and Palestinians.
Many innocent victims
bred to know and hate their enemy
impossible mission
to reconcile one Semitic
group of peoples from another.
The bloody English
begat and fomented
debacle between Israelis and Palestinians.
little more than a century ago,
particularly usurping territory
courtesy aggressive premise
might makes right.
The human species
hell bent on making war
reprisals rank as a ,
and can never even the score
I harken back to childhood,
when our family lived
at Lantern Lane, and the Dailey's
(who threw rocks at Georgie
our Dalmation/Boxer)
rightfully earned before their time
the title fear thy neighbor
an altercation such
as aforementioned above,
would easily earn a spot
on Investigation Discovery
though deadly crimes violently hardcore
reenacted minus the explicit killing
fields not healthy for children
and other living things,
nevertheless even the most pious
and peace loving
exhibit fervent bloody ardour
if kith and kin held at gunpoint.
The annals of civilization
since time immemorial
replete with chronicles
of battlefield bravura
touting (with laurels of profuse praise)
for ultimate sacrifice
unnaturally, unstintingly, and unwaveringly
bravely giving oneself
to father/mother land.
Beneath the surface of the skin
we all bleed;
mortal kombat inked
in Mesolithic Europe
likewise dates to circa 10,000 years ago,
and episodes of warfare appear
to remain "localized
and temporarily restricted"
during the Late Mesolithic
to Early Neolithic period in Europe.
Idyllic as the fantastical utopian yen,
I feel pessimistic patriarchal wheelman
who steer autocratic
leviathan of state (witness Tiananmen
Square student-led demonstrations
known in Beijing, China
as the June Fourth Incident
lasting from 15 April to 4 June 1989)
cuz twentieth century ruthless demagogues
wanted to squelch
pro-democracy movement,
and not only stole demonstrators thunder
but forcefully co-opted with lightning force
their toys such as:
sophisticated erector set and playpen
for dolls loving buoys Barbie and ken
the former coming to life
as a miniature equestrienne
experiencing magical realism.
Basketball Blues
Here I am trying to string some coherent thoughts into a prose in writing…
When there is this sudden continuous thumping noise behind where I am seating…
Oh no! That can only mean one thing, my little girl is into her basketball dribbling...
In this limited space of the living room, her boundless energy needs venting…
Ever since the local junior basketball competition has started, I wish we live on the moon…
When the whim strikes, it’s Michael Jordan incessant dribbling about in the living room…
Only the emptiness of space around the moon can silence the sounds of these staccato booms…
NASA or whatever relevant space agency, book me quickly, if possible, beam me to the moon..
Yeah, I know better, our cajolings and pleas for quiet in this living room is a waste of saliva…
This feminine version of Michael Jordan in my living room is in one of her breakaways runs afire…
Look out! Control that ball, you almost bump poor Nemo in his cute fish bowl off that table…
Where’s your mother, what do I have to do to get a little peace in this time of the day altogether…
Little girl, if you don’t mind, I’m trying to finish this little poem of mine to post on-line…
I have my readers and fans, they’re just like yours, hoping to see the best I can offer each time…
Yeah I know, your fans and supporters, they are cheering you on too, I see the picture…
But little angel of mine, please put away that blasted ball , how about something else to consider …
Let me finish up this shortened prose, post it up online and then I will bother you no longer…
After that, it would be better that I quickly retire to the master bedroom, silence there is pre ordered…
Tell me again, when is your last game, for all this thumping through the week is giving me heartburns…
Do you have to bounce that ball indoors, that noisy din will one fine day bring on angry neighbours…
Better you do something not so noisy, say, clean Nemo’s tank - it looks rather dirty to me….
What? You’ve clean it twice already in this week, are you very sure of that? How about money?..
Would you like to have some change and maybe you can grab a soda outside, it is one fine weather..
Fervently I dare hope, my little Michael Jordan, do go and pick up your many dolls, where’s Barbie..?
AWAKE ~ IN and OUT ~
Spring arising, before morning light,
I walk under the new epic sun
The aroma of yesterday, gone
Today's the day that will follow tomorrow
I quickly walk a certain walk
Unique is all I can display
Watery eyes staying in the past
While vehicles pass and pass
Crosses lacking faith
I stay awake and mend with my fate
Foggy toys, I want to play
I can't keep up with all your kicks
I look, I stare, at the walls
Bright and early, I step on old dolls
I stay and feel, the way you want
Lifeless, and still so full of energy
Mad words, unconscious forces
My sweet needs, now reside inside of you
Mad, sad, and outside the box
You close every door and keep me away from dark
You only allow me to feel your morning light
Why can't you let me see what's behind the shadows?
Why do you turn on all the lights?
I'm here the way you want me to be
Happy, and merry, for the world to see
This blindness will continue to spot
Unless you wake up first and remove the dot
You gave me the thirst, you once knew
So filthy, so full of -spew
Under this closed freaking door
I'm exposed like the midday sun
You bang my head on the wall,
You killed me in a way that made me feel!
I only answer to your call
In and out a hoop~ like a ball
In me, you can not find any real dreams!
Inside you filled me with a raging scream
Sssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
I'm in wonder around your air castle
Strange and hung on your mantle
Stepping on a one footed slave
Alert, alert Am I!!!
I shake, we kiss, I wake,
You sleep...........................
I zip all things into one zipper.
Pounding my hands against my ears
Crazy, taking a jab upon all jabs
Crazy, you say~ that's me everyday
I'm up and I caress the photo we once had
I lay only staring at you once more
I awake before I sleep
Your promises I keep
In me~ you are also in deep
My stars change everyday
Waiting for you, to pull the trigger
Still wishing to be a sun digger
You can't touch or loosen the knots
Together we will daydream our way to the top
I make your nerve system come alive,
We run into the wind and listen
Quietly in our chamber of thoughts
Near and far, we both nod off
In this daily race, with no face
No space,
I caught myself awake,
The day I fell asleep for you.
by;PD
It was the summer of 1938 when the whisper of fate broke through the airless
night,
And two curious children got to their feet the little girl knew something was not
right.
Little Jack the baby, stood in the middle of the room, the dirt floor cool on his bare
feet,
his sister did not stand, but walked over to the screen door unmindful of the
Texas heat.
Who told the girl what happened? Could it be that angles spoke softly in her
small ear?
She looked at her little brother Jack, and told him what she knew, in her voice
was no fear.
“It’s daddy you know, he’s not coming back Jackie” she said in a quietly hushed
tone.
Little Jack was so young, and he didn’t understand. But daddy, he never did
come home.
Their mother you see neither one can truly recall, maybe for them she never
really was,
She walked through their lives on a stage of drama never doing the things a
mother does.
But they remember the rainy day in a town that is now gone, when daddy was laid
to rest,
Their mother you see showed up late, in a new car and wearing her brand new
Sunday best.
The Two though they went on, as children do. The little girl mothering her little
brother Jack.
So small and alone, they looked for food in the trash the little girl with her brother
on her back.
Mother was there somewhere, laughing in the dark secrecy, loving what men
could provide.
The children to her became baggage, inconvenient, a hindrance that she just
could not abide.
Some in the town began to take pity, watching the rag dolls as they walked
through the street,
When evening fell the town went home, so did the Two in their frayed clothes and
bare little feet.
But time can bring sweet escape, and that came to the Two through the blessing
of a new life,
It was their fate not to grow up together, one knowing peace the other life colored
with strife.
But the Two would meet through out the years for their destiny is intertwined in
blood and history,
Time marched on and as they now age they share in each others lives, a lasting
bond and mystery.
She can no longer carry Jack on her back, but she has always carried him in her
heart and mind,
And to Jack, his sister has always been more than words can explain, more than
most will ever find.
Form:
I vividly remember my childhood days,
we had a small garden,
in which we grew flowering plants,
butterflies would sit on them.
Moment I woke up, I would run to them,
to see how many flowers had bloomed
Oh! The exquisite beauty of colourful butterflies sitting on them,
it would give me immense joy.
I would often gently caress them,
smell them, even hug them.
Oh! How much I loved them.
Every time I made a mistake and my parents scolded me,
I would run to them for solace.
It was done accidently, it was done not knowingly,
I would lament to them.
All my joy and happiness,
they would be the first one to hear,
I would share my victories with them,
show them my prizes.
Oh! I did love them.
Butterflies were no longer scared me,
they knew I would not harm them,
They would keep sitting their, while I talked to them,
Their beautiful colour and design was a marvel of nature,
They were the most exquisite of God's creations.
They were a friend of flowers,
so where they of me,
How much I loved to watch them fluttering joyfully.
I would weave stories with my dolls, flowers and butterflies,
I would spend hours playing with them.
When I joined guitar class I would play to them,
they would dance to my tunes,
I would be really amazed then.
They were my best friends forever,
Who would listen patiently,
as i rambled my joys and sorrows...
I felt I could feel their emotions,
As if they could feel my emotions,
They were either happy or sympathizing with me.
One day father brought the news,
we were leaving that house for good.
I was beside myself with sorrow.
What about my flower plants?
Who would take care of them?
I can't leave them to die!
They were my best friends!
My soulmates!
Mother tried to console me,
they would soon get another girl,
who would love them the way you did.
"Don't worry dear,
God takes care of everyone here"
With a heavy heart I bade them goodbye,
I sang my last song to them,
with tears in eyes I left them.
I would oft remember them,
Over the years they were forgotten...
Now I tell my children stories about them,
They were wonderful memories,
Memories that still bring joy and happiness to me,
Memories that can never be forgotten.
Date: 7/27/2020