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Marina 3d
I always knew that you were trouble
But I let my selfishness get in it
And now I'm stuck with you
Creeping your way

I ask myself
Why do I do what I do?
I'm too loving
Too kind
Too generous,
I almost feel like it's never worth it
Because you just kept me
In a jar with pencils and sticky notes,

You use me, draw on me carefully
Enough to crack me
But never break me.
J J Aug 21
Along the grass,beneath the sky
The draconic sun vitrified
The lover figurines.
Flattening them
Adjacent to the surface,
Skin blent in crackly tessellation,
Deforming to fit the sphere,adhering to it's
Wondrous silence.
Frail limbs minute,heart's heavy as whole islands.

Is it not love embodied to lay defined as an image?
To be held as shatterless glass,reflecting it's deity's melting
In progress, 'neath the star that impelled a shelter,
The star that paved their meeting,that overlooked
Their life and death in a predetermined stasis,
The divinity that shimmered underfoot at all times,
The star that held all places of the earth in one.

The figurine lovers, faceless mannikinis
Sentenced to worship forever without a choice,
For prior love, for prior sins,
It matters not--they rot and twist as the Sun's play-dice.
Part 1: JOY & SORROW

It was around 3am, sometime last week…

When I learned that the
Sweetest Joy
Could, simultaneously, be the
Bitterest Sorrow

As I held my newborn son, Ezra
Close to my chest [Joy]
As he was (inconsolably) screaming his head off
Just below my right ear! [Sorrow]

(…Around 3am, sometime last week…)

But, oh, Ezra himself is a single joy
Who outweighs 10,000 sorrows!

And his parents CANNOT IMAGINE
Life without him

(Though our bodies ache to know, again,
The comforts
And rest
Our past life afforded us)



We COULD NOT WAIT to introduce Ezra
To everyone (and anyone)!

And the first time we took him outside
Onto the front porch
To meet the neighbors,
The most curious thing happened:

The one-and-a-half year old neighbor girl, Remi –
Short for “Remington” (yes, named after the rifle!) –
Hobbled over with her Daddy,
And pointed to Ezra, and said, “Baby!”

And I smiled
And said
(In the least manly voice I could muster),
“Yeah, he’s a Baby…”



Later, I was replaying this interaction
In my head –
Amused by the irony
Of the situation:

That this one-and-a-half year old BABY
Identified a thing
Smaller and younger than HERSELF
As a “Baby!”

And I wondered if she knows that
SHE too is a Baby –

If she ever looks in the mirror,
And points to HERSELF,
And says,



And then, I recalled
Having witnessed this ironic phenomenon before…

…As I watched our friend’s little girl, Addy,
Pushing her baby doll in a toy stroller
Around her house
As if it was her Baby

And I thought about how amazing it is
That “pre-programmed” into little girls
Is the nurturing and emotional concern of
A Mother,

And that, it’s not uncommon to find
Baby girls
Pretending to be Mommy’s to their
Baby dolls


Part 5: THIS “BABY”

And then, I thought about myself
In relation to my Heavenly Father

Who, in His Infinite Character,
And Bigness,
And Greater-Than-Us-Ness,
Is so unutterably HIGH above (and beyond) me

And a thought popped into my head –
In the form of an absurd question:

“Are we all just ‘playing with dolls’?”

Are we all just pushing proverbial ‘strollers' in a cosmic ‘nursery’ we call life and existence?
Mythical May 24
There she stands tall,
Wearing radiant colors,
Hair tied in a tight bun,
Make up with white blush.

Her glass beady eyes looking straight forward,
With a haunting tale of sorrow,
A chilling sight it must be,
To be a statue on a shelf.

The look she gave,
Chills run up my spine,
With stories of the untold,
A swoosh of cold air,
Brushes against my cheek,
Every time I see the doll...
Anne J May 14
My dollhouse opens
For all who seek lies and
Delusions stead truth
Another one...Got a whole lot more coming in these weeks.
julianna May 11
My family has a curse
It’s the Dollhouse Dilema
The problem is you see,
That people think we’re perfect.

We’re plastic to the outside world
And perfectionist at our core.
We’re always in control, that is,
Until something goes wrong.

Do you see the problem here?
The problem is with logic.
Plastic melts with heat and pressure,
But we just smile harder.

I don’t know why we’re like that
And I’m not sure we’ll recover but
Beware the perfect people, for
They have the biggest problems.
Ian ortega Jan 21
One is a peasant, a miniature one to be exact.
Who had seen some better days.
All worn out and silent,
I have kept it for display.

One is blind who lost both sight,
Probably stumbled its way to a thrift shop.
The previous owner could have pushed it eyes out.
Poor lad, its eyes got filled with dollop.

Lastly the one doll I am proud,
Is a musical doll I recently picked up.
You can wind it up and leave it playing,
Until the end of the sonata unless it suddenly stops.
Ian ortega Jan 21
Miss Daisy is what I call her,
Having a doll, but only a head.
She never complains and she never is lonely,
Because this doll head is never alone.
When I bought her came also Miss Darlyn,
Another head for the price of one.
Jenny Gordon Dec 2018
...on my head --that should do us both good since YOU're not keen on aught knowing YOU love me too.


O madness of these dolls my niece'd avail
Herself of cuz they're popular and thence
What aught who'd buy her favour purchase hence,
(Where I was far too poor to dream in frail
Excuse of any such things in betrayl,
When I was just a child)! The vid'os' sense
Of, well erm, foolish joy in these--pretense,
I cannot even like the dolls to scale.
Nor did adulthood change my view as twere.
Goodwill in lieu of e'en the mall MY cue,
They all look now askance at me in tour,
My peers thus none too blind.  What did I do?
Or wherefore is't I'm on the fringe, 'til YOUR
Love is a marvel none explain, O YOU?

A child of the mad 80's, oh my! the toys they had for Generation X!  Mum got me Ginny dolls cuz that's what she'd enjoyed, and some baby dolls too.  But I'm not sorry we didn't have YouTube to tell us how to be.
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