Porcelain Poems

Porcelain Boy

Porcelain boy,
Hammer in fist,
Building walls-
Cracking, his face twists.
So pretty, so alone.
Storm cloud mind monsoons from his eyes
"I am not worth it" he screams
His concrete ribcage contains
A monster of fire forged shame.
This phase in life,
Smoke is wrapping around his face
Porcelain is hardening-
Porcelain is stained.
Repair, remind, revisit
Heal, hell, high.
No pain stains my lips
When I scream your name
Only

Pale Porcelain

Clad in bright white sapphire
Millions crawl, the exhausted lay to admire
Within its swelling eye thousands desire
At the back I lie, waiting to expire
Scratching the walls without respire
I danced into crossfire
With a soul which yearns to retire
Lips littered with satire
A heart prosecuted to hellfire
Still, my porcelain surface shone as if a luminaire 
Slowly the winds fill

Under Porcelain

She smiled,
The kind that fits
Like fine porcelain
On polished shelves.

She added the sugar,
Asked about the day,
But folded her voice
Into careful pleats.

No one noticed,
The twitch in her hand,
How the tea danced
Before the quick sips.

She laughed,
But her breath shook,
Like windows trembling
Before the wind.

Even the mirror,
Cracked behind her veil
Dared not speak
Of the quiver it caught.

She kept it hidden,
Polished with

Porcelain Sunset

Statuesque, in the literal sense
for of porcelain, she was sculpted.
So loved by the sun
that before drowning
in the sea, he whispered to her,
"A kiss bestowed on your brow,
to bring you to life.
Live during the moonlight's hours,
and each dawn she'll return you to me."

Black Gutters, Painted Ceilings

Between the black gutters and the painted ceilings,
Dogs teach dolls how to die.
	 Study the rot in my bicuspids, file down the calluses and watch the heartbeat
	Shake the skin like strychnine shivers. 
Whispers fill the space between the curtains, hanging from the scaffolds
Hushed against the legs, porcelain and fractured,
Broken down the middle.
Kintsugi can’t restore the

Porcelain Face

There once was a Marm with a dripping cold
Whose bright idea she feared would unfold:
Her deep scribed porcelain face
Was far harder to replace
Then a soaked sink her plumber could not hold.

Shards of porcelain on the floor

If I tear myself apart, 
Will you be there to build me back up ?
Will you take the time to repair what’s broken ?
Even if it can’t be repaired ?
Even if it happens again ?

I could never promise you peace.
If I did, 
I would be looking at myself in the mirror,
And my eyes wouldn't be

Porcelain Dreams

she sits, porcelain dreams, 
her hair, a cascade of silk,  
soft as the dawn, 
eyes like twin pools of wonder. 

lips, a blush of cherry,
lips soft as whispered secrets. 

delicate as porcelain, 
a delicate heart wrapped in silk.

oh, to be her,  
to wear the sun like a crown.

Alabaster Porcelain on a Ghost

The diaphanous hush whispers of the nightshade, 
float upon petals red breeze, 
like the ethereal crypt sigh of a crimson lachrymose fountain vein,
fully opening - to release;

Here I'm a flock both unkindness ore murder, 
vortices ghastly galleons in the shadows, 
conjuring forth fore the damned, 
manifestation of the damned-to-be, 
drawing all into the benthic depths

Porcelain

Pretty and cool,
Expensive but cheap,
I’m a Porcelain doll, 
I stand out from the heap!


Somebody bought me! 
Oh what a joy! 
I have finally been chosen!
No longer seen as a toy!

They aren’t very nice.
But that's fine! 
I’ll hear them out,
And it’ll pass the time!

They are angry at me, 
They saw the cracks,
This wasn’t meant to happen!

Porcelain Spirit Dreams

Written: February 24, 2024
                     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Moonbeams kindle ambrosian dreams
Love evolves on auric gleams 
A gem in space, a costly pearl, a Luna
Fetching felicitous feelings, a fervid fawn
In this wassail ethereal area, hearts soar
I was awestruck by

Mr Doctor

Oh Mr Doctor, Mr Doctor!
He did it again, he’s so broken
His pieces are everywhere
I can’t fix him this time
The porcelain shards are everywhere, they are sharp and harmful 
But so broken
So alike him
Mr Doctor, what am I to do?

Mr Doctor, Mr Doctor
Look at my heart
Listen to it
It’s cold and broken
It will never work again
Mr Doctor,

Porcelain Play

You tell me to stop
How can I
When the porcelain play never stops
It has to keep going
For the crowd 

Yet, the cracks...
They are slowly taking over
Slowly breaking 
my so carefully built play
my life
my happiness 
The cracks get bigger, can they see? 
no amount of joy can seal them now.
The crowd, it laughs. I'm glad. They don't

Lines In the Porcelain

My skin is a delicate porcelain.
Never used, and well taken care of because it is fragile.
Always on display because fragility is beautiful until it actually breaks.
One wrong move and it chips, followed by a crack then ends up shattering.
Lines to me are cracks in the beautiful porcelain I called my skin that used to hold

Porcelain Doll Sadie

Sadie looked like a delicate porcelain Madame Alexander doll.
As if she had stepped out of an old-fashioned magazine stall.
Her delicate curls were perfect as if done by Mr. Hairdresser Paul.
We marveled at her fur-lined cape, she was the hit of the ball.

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