Doll’s boy ’s asleep
under a stile
he sees eight and twenty
ladies in a line

the first lady
says to nine ladies
his lips drink water
but his heart drinks wine

the tenth lady
says to nine ladies
they must chain his foot
for his wrist ’s too fine

the nineteenth
says to nine ladies
you take his mouth
for his eyes are mine.

Doll’s boy ’s asleep
under the stile
for every mile the feet go
the heart goes nine

The strings are pulled to wake you up another day collecting dust.

You look in her eyes while she stands and smiles, all you see is a distant reflection watching the work through her eyes as time passes by.

You porcelain doll is chipping away on the inside. As she shatters and breaks

Glass sprawled out on the floor you watch her get cut as she tries to pick her self back up not wanting to anymore.

She's locked out the world you little perfect porcelain doll with her once perfect hair, smooth skin and big beautiful eyes that let you in.

And yet you still don't notice how your once little perfect porcelain doll is shattered and cracked and hasn't said a word she silently stops picking up the pieces and thinks in her old broken mind just how many lies and secrets can this old chipped porcelain smile hide. But one day you little perfect porcelain doll will shatter and break and so will her old chipped smile. And you will finally see that your little perfect porcelain doll isn't so perfect at all.

I’m a Victorian doll
with my hair in curls
I will make you
turn and stare
wearing a dress
colored royal blue
embroidered with
diamonds and pearls
look at me
look at me
one and all come and see
the most beautiful doll
in the world
the wonderful beautiful me

See you quake in your boots,
so sick,
can't resist,
Everything wrong,
everything sick
too irresistable,
something's wrong in my head,
something of desire,
a ***** little need,
get down on my knees
I got no problem,
I will plead.
Take me,
take me anyway you wish
take me fast- take me strong
take me till I'm black and blue.
I swear to you,
there's something wrong with me,
I'm broken rag doll.
I've been sewn up, time and time again,
tearing at my seems --begging to played with,
please just one more time,

I'm nothing but a broken rag doll,
pulling at the seems,
crying out with my ***** little needs,
I'm nothing but some cloth strung together,
waiting to be broken,
expecting harsh wounds.

I'm not a porcelain doll,
don't think I ever was,
I was born in the mud,
broken in the corner,
sewn up by your lies,
stitched closely by these wounds.
I'll tell you time and time again,
I'm nothing but a broken rag doll,
pulling at the seems, crying out with my ***** little needs.
Sick little wretch,
who pretends to be so good,
a sick little monster
who begs to be flesh and bone,
I'm nothing but a doll,
forgotten in the memories,
broken and fixed
far too many times
that things are starting to get loose.
Do you understand my need,
I see you stare across the room,
you quake in your boots,
I know you see a sick little monster,
and that's what I see, staring back.

They use to say I love you.
I hope no one ever hurts you.
They'd just met, but it was love.
Right?
Well the doll was never loved, but this had to be it.
She was happy.
Right?
She'd never felt happiness before though, so this had to be it.
She was a good doll.
Right?
She'd always try to help...
She wanted to wipe the tears of the hurt. She'd put them before her.
They were her best friend.
Right?
Or maybe that's just what she would tell herself...
Stop. Don’t question yourself!
She wanted to be good and happy and loved.
I just want to be happy
So even though something was wrong it was ok.
R i g h t ?


W r o n g .
Sometimes you can be used to much... ya know?
She still felt empty.
But that's normal, right?
She's a doll.
They don't have feelings.
Right?
Wrong.
She's cracking. Again. It's not working. This isn't happy. The twinkle in her eyes dimmed.
She is crumbling bit by bit.
I told you. Haha.
Reality hit her with a blow to the face

I LoVe YoU, Doll.
I hope no   one ever hurts you.

Like a porcelain doll,
So small and fragile,
Handle with care,
Or she will break.

Like a porcelain doll,
Her heart is made of glass,
So handle with care,
For it may break.

Like a porcelain doll,
so fragile and small,
Yet so beautiful to look at,
Handle with care,
Tender hands, gentle tongue,
Or she may break.

Like a porcelain doll,
So fragile and small,
Or she may break.

This is how you make me feel,

Like a porcelain doll,
who you need to handle with care.

Like a porcelain doll,
Whose heart is made of glass,
or it will break.

With tender hands you care for me
with a gentle tongue you talk to me.
How is it that you make me feel so fragile,
As if I'm about to break.
How is it that you make me feel that only within your hands I'm looked after and that if I'm in another's hands I will break.
How is it that if its another voice I hear,
I would break?

Like a rag doll in the rain
Your love, hence, purpose is gone
Now your forced to endure the pain
As you realize you were just a pawn

In your story this was the great love
In his you were just a bit part
As insignificant as an old glove
He tears out your still beating heart

Hair burned into beautiful submission
Face acrylically defined and chemically composed
Adornments meticulously chosen
Scent tested and approved
Smile practiced and performed
I am a porcelain doll
Sipping tea, at 6 am in the quiet of a sleepy-city apartment
Porcelain doll dainty wrists
Washing dishes, feeding cats
Folding linens, singing hymnals
Praying for peace and safety
Porcelain doll knitting sweaters
And folding paper cranes
Reading poems, setting tables
Wearing cardigans and pearls
Porcelain doll decorating cupcakes
Lighting scented candles
Watering potted plants and humming childhood lullabies
With my porcelain painted lipstick mouth


But lipstick can be dark
Eyes lined black as city alley ways
There is anger at injustice
The world outside the confines of a pastel doll house
It’s messy
It’s hard
It’s iron and concrete and coal
And I am too
Biking through the brick metropolis
Sunglasses and headphones
And anarchist literature
Evenings spent sprinting through the smog
Heartbeats synchronized to the crude drumming of the city
So hard to impress
I’m on the metro
Eyebrows structured and defined
And adorned with a calculated air of apathy
See me social justice march
Down highways with fervently entitled youths
See me armed against misogyny
Until my peers learn to better conceal it
See me smoking cigarillos
Drinking black coffee
Breathing the tainted air of the city that birthed me
And chanting manifestoes.

But my manifesto can be love
And love can conquer anger and fear
And hatred
Love can reconcile, it can erase timidity
And it can abolish resentment
Let it wash my face and take the need for vengeance from my spirit
Let it replace the thirst for power with thirst for truth.
I burn incense
And wear long skirts
Naked face and braless lazy days
Reading pacifism in the park
I walk far to find pure air to breathe
I sit and deconstruct my dichotomy
Under a wise and ancient tree
I trace myself backwards and forwards
I meditate on the paths I have traveled
I cry for the things I have seen
And for the things I have done
I contemplate transcendence
I drink wine and listen to folk music
On the terrace of my home
I bike barefoot to buy Indian takeout
And eat it in silence on the floor of an empty room

I think only of death
And resurrection
Of betrayal and redemption
Of opposites and compliments
And how to progress in knowing how divergent pieces of myself can learn to harmonize
I think about minimalism and materialism
Sentimentalism
And swords and pens
And how this race I run was rigged from the start
I think about blackberries
And the complexity of their literary and symbolic significance
I think about the number seven as I see it reoccurring in every possible sequence and equation
I think about God,
And TS Eliot
And If I dare disturb the universe
I think about porcelain dolls and ****** activists and ***** hippies
I think about war and peace and politics
About corruption and poverty and imperialism
About western ideals and conspiracy theories
And communism
I think about being radical,
And how both sides of this ideological war are defined by fear
And I think about love, as radical but defined by the absence of fear
The absolution of fear
And how I am fairly certain it is the answer
I think about the inevitability of art and war
how they create each other
how they destroy each other
inspire each other and annihilate each other
and how there is nothing that is innocent.
I think about pain and privilege
And stacked decks of cards
I think about dreams and nightmares
And prophesy.
I think about the darkness within me
Tendencies to lie and manipulate and steal
The darkness that I know could make me very great
But alone in the ashes of the world
I think of the curse of wealth and power
And I try to evaluate my motives
And the driving force of my ambition
But I don’t know.
I think about grace and all the things I don’t understand
And toil and fate and destiny
The shape of these things, their origins and culminations
And what this black box of secrets contains.
I think about so many things,
Until everything I was on the outside is gone.
My body is gone
My painted face and sculpted hair
My varnished nails and pierced ears
All my clothes and appendages and freckles are gone
My blood evaporated
My brain an invisible energy in the wind.
My home and street
And city
Are gone.
And even in such complete concentration
When it is only my essence and nothing else
And I transcend throughout my past and future
When I am spread thin
And stretched into the corners
When I fill the cracks and crevices
And melt into the pores of everything
And my spirit is awaked to a dimensionless reality
Even then,
Scio Nihil

I know nothing. .

Put on your face and see as everything get earased
You see things that nobody see's
But they don't listen to you
your a little thing today
So pleas wake up little thing as you try to sleep
you cant escape the pain that this world brings
Putt on your doll face
You see things that nobody ells see's
No they still wont listen to you as you cry out
So put on your doll face wakeup you cant sleep yet
They think that your perfect
But you see things that nobody ells see's

The voodoo doll sits there on the window sill,
I named him Bill,
Bill sits there all day and all night,
And when I come in at night he gives me a fright,
It looks like he has an evil grin on his face,
Sometimes he can be a disgrace.

He can be a disgrace doing all sorts of things,
Sometimes he steals my rings,
I don’t know how he does it,
But he will never admit,
What he does to us,
He puts us in a lot of stress.

There is something about Bill that you should know,
He is very handy with arrows and a bow,
He is very special in his own little way,
He likes to make little people out of clay,
He is no ordinary voodoo doll,
Paulina is his best friend they both love running into a wall,
This may seem very odd,
And when I tell them off for doing this they just stand there and nod.

This is the story of my voodoo doll,
Whenever he gets tired he likes to loll,
So next time you come across him,
Remember to give him a sim dim.
This way he will be very happy.
And forever make you his close enough pappy.

Having washed her doll
Battered Betty in the baby
bath, Helen dries it in an
old towel her mother gave

her, rubbing it with her
childish motherly attention
to detail. That done, she
dresses Betty in some doll's

clothes her father brought
home from a  junk shop
on his way home one Friday.
She wraps Betty in a fading

shawl, and goes to the front
door. Where you off to? her
mother asks. Taking Betty
out for a walk, she replies.

Where abouts? probably
to Jail Park, Helen says.
Watch out for strange men,
her mother says. I'm with

Benedict, Helen says. O,
well that's OK then, her
mother says, relieved,
pushing damp hair from

her lined forehead. Helen
goes out the front door
and walks along to the
railway bridge next to the

Duke of Wellington pub
where Benedict said to
met him. She pats the doll's
back as she walks, tightens

the shawl to keep the doll
warm. Benedict is waiting
by the pub wall; his cowboy
hat is pushed back, 6 shooter

gun is tucked in the belt
of his short trousers. Helen
sees him before he sees her,
she prepares herself: licks

fingers to dampen down her
hair, straightens her thick
lens spectacles, wipes her
nose on the back of her hand.

Am I late? she says as she
approaches him. He pushes
himself from the wall, his 6
shooter quickly out of the belt,

he blows the end. No, he says,
just thinking of the Billy-the-Kid
I saw at the cinema the other day.
Got shot. Died. I wouldn’t have

done that, I'd not have turned my
back on the marshal whatever
his name was. Helen rocks Betty
in her small arms. Given Betty

a bath, she says, nice and clean now.  
Benedict gives the doll a glance,
puts his gun away in the belt.
Good, he says, can't have our

kid *****. Helen smiles, no, we
can't, can we, she says. Mum
says to look out for strange men,
she adds as an after thought.

Benedict pats his gun, no strange
man will get to you or Betty,
he says determinedly. Just as
Mum says, Helen says quietly,

looking at the cowboy beside
her, his hat now pushed forward,
his hazel eyes focusing, on her
and the doll. Let's go walk, he

says, I'll give you and Betty
a push on the swings and
roundabout. So they walk up
Bath Terrace, she telling him

about a boy at school calling
her four eyes, and he musing
of putting a couple of slugs in
the kid's head: BANG BANG,

the caps will go, just smoke,
no holes, no death, or if he chose,
maybe a good sock in the nose.

Her face displayed a smile,
Her skin made out of false matters,
She painted herself in gold.
How beautiful where her skin,
Her skin striking in the sun,
The paint shone bright,
And inchmeal, she melts.
How could you paint
Plastic out of gold?
Have you dreamt of a world
Filled with her infamous thoughts?
Have you lived in a world
Where her existence
Is just a living nightmare?
Beings? Night terrors?
All because of a
toxic Barbie doll.

You sit by my wooden dresser
There in the corner of my bedroom.
Sweeter you look in front of me,
Than the way you chatter behind me.
Every piece I hold onto,
Thee steal and smirk...
Doing it as if I have not yet caught.
You loved taking my heart into your palm.
Breaking them into pieces
And would make ******* out of them.
What a waste for me to let you
Break it for me.

Call me bossy,
Maybe I’m just clever.
You could be so jealous
I guess I’m just smart.
Do you have those brains, too?
I’ve heard you had none.
You’re pulling me down,
While you had nothing to brag about.
The best of me,
Oh that crap of yours,
I give it my all,
While you had none.
Responsibility, what a word.
Recalling the first times,
You seemed to look innocent.
It was memorable
for you never liked me,
Neither did I.
“Best friend”?
It is such a believable name,
Isn’t it? But, I don’t remember it.
“Stop being my friend”
******, then leave me behind.
I would not be the one doing it for you.
Opening your diary,
While you never read mine.
You ask how I was,
I answered, “I’m fine.”
Your concern? Angelic yet fake.
Look now who’s a Barbie in her smile.
I  am not playing puppets,
I just knew what to do.
I just had a lot of things in mind,
Wishing you told me yours.
I saw those words you held against me,
“She’s this girl and she’s that.”
You little ******, don’t be such a brat.
My mother taught me gossiping is bad,
Why do you do it to me?
I looked like a villain
but I was just a victim.
Oh, I learned in my life...
How I could say “no”,
It is brave, little one.
And to learn is to never trust
And to never talk to a Barbie doll.

My voodoo doll sits there on the window sill,
His name is Bill,
Bill sits there all day and night,
And when I come in at night he gives me a fright,
It looks like he and evil grin on his face,
Sometimes he can be a disgrace.

He can be a disgrace by doing all sorts of things,
Sometimes he steals my rings,
I don't know how he does it,
But he'll never admits,
What he does to us,
He puts us under alot of stress.


There is something about bill you should know,
He is very handy with arrows and a bow,
He is very special in his own little way,
He likes to make little people out of clay,
He is no ordinary voodoo doll,
Paulina is his best friend and they both running into a wall,
This may seem very odd,
And when I tell them off for doing this they just stand there and nod.

This is the story of my voodoo doll,
Whenever he gets tired to loll,
So next time you come across him,
Remember to give him a sim dim,
This way he will be very happy,
And forever make you his close enough pappy!

he said, “you’re such a doll”
beautiful on the outside,
with nothing but hollow thoughts
and jingling parts tangoing
inside.
"i’m no doll."
more like a rag doll,
waiting for the next
throw.

Most of the time I fear I'm just a fool for you
And that you are my favorite
And maybe I'm just your favorite doll
You can play with me whenever you want, then put me on the shelf to collect dust because you know I'll be right here when you want me again
Sometimes it's hours
Sometimes it's weeks
But on the shelf I sit, eagerly waiting for you return
Nothing brightens me up more then when you come back
Even when you make me angry I want you around
I want you around even when you make me sad
And the only sense of that I can make is that I am more miserable without you
And there are times that you never put me back on the shelf
You make me feel so needed
You play with my hair and ask me about my day
You let me be myself
Even when I'm not so pretty
And it's all so overwhelming, how could I ever walk away?
How could the restless moments waiting for you overrule all those moments of happiness?
All your words can't be lies
All your feelings can't be fake
So why do you always leave?
Why do you always have to find another doll?
And why does she seem to get the better parts of you, when I accept all the worst parts of you?
Even on the days I sit lifeless, tears silently falling down my cheeks
Why am I not enough?
What more could I give to be enough?
The only doll you want around?
I know when you go, you're always going to come back
But, it's getting harder to always bare a smile when there's so much hurt inside
I can't walk away
I've tried
I don't want to be the one who always sits on this shelf
I want to mean more
I want you to feel a pang from my absence
I want what I want to matter
I want this shelf to burn down into the ground
So when the smoke clears you realize you don't have anywhere to just leave me
That maybe I never belonged on the shelf in the first place
I want you to see, I'm the doll worth keeping
I want to see I'm not just your fool
Playing a part that'll never just be mine
Or I need you to just say what I dread
That I am just your favorite fool
And a place on your shelf is all I'm ever going to have

The bomb site
is the best place
for chickweed
Helen said

so you went
to the one off
Meadow Row
and gathered up

handfuls of the stuff
and took them back
to your flat
to feed the budgerigar

you were looking after
for the old couple
along the balcony
who had gone away

for a few days
you watched
as Helen poked
some through the bars

of the bird cage
with her fingers
and you noticed
her tenderness

and determination
as she pushed it
through the narrow
gauged bars

her tongue poking out
of the corner
of her mouth
her eyes focusing

through her
thick lens spectacles
does it sing?
she asked

don't think so
you replied
least I’ve not
heard it do so

she talked to the budgie
in her little girl voice
and sang a few lines
of a hymn

the budgerigar
just stared at her
and walked up
the other end

of the perch
with a beak full
of chickweed
as she sang to it

she held her head
at an angle
and one of her plaits
of brown hair

hung downwards
do you want
to come back
to my place afterwards?

she said
you can help me
bath my doll Battered Betty
and then

Mum'll get us
some bread and jam
or bread and dripping
and a mug of tea

you had wanted to go
to the bomb site
for half an hour
to gather ammunition

for your catapult
but she had that look
about her face
that made you say

sure why not
and so after poking through
the remaining chickweed
and washing your hands

under the cold water tap
in the kitchen
and drying them
on the towel hanging

behind the door
you walked down
the concrete stairs
and out into the Square

and down the *****
into Rockingham Street
where you walked past
the coal wharf

where coal trucks
were being filled
with sacks of coal
and by

the Duke of Wellington pub
where you used to get
bags of crisps
and bottles of Tizer

on Sunday evenings
then under
the railway bridge
and she talked

of some boys at school
who called her 4 eyes
and fish face
O don't mind them

you said
they just can't see
your beauty
too blind

dumb idiots
do I?
she said
have beauty?

sure you do
you said
putting on
your serious face

never seen a girl
with more
and she smiled
and gazed at you

through the thick lens
of her spectacles
showing the large
brown conker like eyes

when you got to her place
her mother
was just finishing
bathing a young kid

so she let Helen
have the water after
to bath Betty
and gave her

an old towel to dry with
you helped her
prepare the doll
but she took off

the baby clothes
an old cardigan
that had seen
better days

and a creamy dress
with small buttons
at the back
which were a hell

of a job to undo
and a pair of
doll *******
that fitted tightly

and were a struggle
to get off
well
Helen said

the water's nice
and soapy
so we can wash her
as it is

and so you watched
as she dipped the doll
under the water
(it might have drowned

had it been for real)
and held it there
until bubbles came out
of the neck

and she lifted Betty out
and wiped her over
with a flowery face cloth
and Betty’s eyes

opened and closed
and you helped dry
and studied
(as boys tend to do)

the seriousness
of Helen about the task
the tongue hanging
from the side

of her mouth
her eyes focussed
the head to one side
like an animal

trying to understand
a human command
and the small hands
working with calm concern

just as you'd seen
your mother do
when she made a cake
or rolled out pastry

for a pie
once the doll was dry
and dressed
she put Betty back

in the tiny cot
her dad had made
from an orange box
and her mother said

sit down
and I’ll get you
some bread and jam
or bread and dripping

and mugs of tea
and off she went
to the kitchen
humming some hymn

and you looked at Helen
sitting there
with her plaits of hair
and big eyes

showing no fear
and a smile
from ear
to lovely ear.

Your the one son being rebellious little darlings here comes
the sun drenching delicious but wait those cloudy days
watch out the hunters run ducking our heads like babies
wetting and water squirting beds getting too saucy
  ten O clock playpen the daring duck gourmet sauce
Orange you glad all her rich creme spread across
her penpals
Do you trust those gals too country slick on Newsweek

Getting paid he is the longest laid egg all grilled we are
not thrilled here is the "Chuckie Duckie" doll those *****
barbie collectors they are sitting duck Graphic Artist
Not one quack doll plastic surgeon duck lips she thinks
shes the hot stuff romantic "French" lips up the
"Eiffel Tower" splash splash she is out of cash
Those hot items presidential poll what a lost soul

Too much blue yes attention swan dancers Springtime
Not  the red attention yellow instead ****** please
I need a  journey not the "Attorney" such a ****** case
When you need them they always duck
When they have a new quack case they are ruining
my image
Duck tapesty Carol Kings youve got a friend

I'm feeling yellow homesick on your feather duck pillow
The same yellow tie a different atmosphere Go- Spa
She's flirting do you know where your going how is
life treating you he's giggling way too wild on her
goose chase
  Losing our grip down to her chicken bone hip
Duck season not much time for love being hunted

The Spa  la la ha have Merci' oh la la 'Disco Duck"
The wild ones the only ones quack- quack the
lonely ones
At the waterfront trip to "Chinatown" they let
them hang to dry but why Dad? They are better
like the delicacy shark finn soup we need a Spa
lucky green group Irish eyes are smiling stories
of ducks

I am  not buying do you see duck climb the
          "Eiffel Tower" yellow as a canary
All talk-talk is cheap lets talk French Mom walks
With her pretty duck handle umbrella we waddle
The penquin what a beauty swan feather pen
  But she's the"Prima Donna" look out!

The slingshot Marilyn Monroe wiggles out
                  The "Spa- Ma"
                 Don't  Scramble me darlings
                    Breakfast eggs cagefree
                     *          *          
My little chickadees organic brown on my gown
Spa duckies traveled the whole Atlantic town
The longest pond sleeping like "Rip Van Winkle"
twinkle twinkle
doublecrossed the street you get one dermerit
Sesame street Big bird how many words in duck
vocabulary quack- quack who get's the duck star

Mars from Men women go to the Spa like the bad
omen and they don't leave tap tap chop chop
I want it now!! Its now or never why does she always
get ugly duckling book delivered
Lazy goose she is the spoiled rotten egg how
do we love those  I apples
Carrots are for the eyes Mom always gets bird eyes

My little chickadees the Alaskan cute puppies
Big salute to the cutest duck feet "God Bless America"
  Visa  American Express Daffy Duck in Disney mess
the real picture "Mona Lisa" getting the duck
         Prime  chop minister
"Parliament Spa" prices so sinister
"Eat Duck and Pray" the  southern biscuits
more recruits

My cute rookies those duckier cookies another Spa day
So prim and proper teatime with "Queen deck"
  Alice in rabbit hole-Santa candycane poles cute chick
is homesick you better sent her money quick
The ducky bib the Chinese duck soup won ton
The feather fan she loves her Sushi roll Hollywood
Style California all duck drama
The best treatment duck made carpet

On the "Disney Hollywood" deck "Epcot"
On the futon what diction for a duck "My Fair lady"
Got the whole fortunes bed
The duck on the hill what a fool but the monk
Is the whole spiritual existence
The peacock's longest wait for lobster tails
centerpieces red bird Robin fly Robin Fly

Disco ball fancy tails she ended up up up to the sky
Her duck sunglasses a dozen ***** spin's the disco
The Duck Pop singer wants him back
High price or a short mack duck shooter attack
Food for thought homesick all saucy duck tie waiter
Cinderella rags to ducklings I went to "Woodstock"
Imagine me the teenager chick the duck split

Fill wing concert sky made a hit
The blues love is strange chick-lets are yellow
Like clock work what a duck work out orange          
        Duck handle umbrella               
 Duckies I pledge to you College Preppies
The chick feeder Ain't nothing but a hound dog
      Elvis heart breaker bird-brain feeder

  Moms duck sugar cookies
******* Jack one prize quack quack
 Huckleberry Finn paper boat old billy goat
  In the drowned mans eye holy ducks he delivered
I will blow you down duck horn the day you
were born
Having a third eye one duck Wendy 4 for a 4

Notre Dame church tragic but saved
   The  Easter yellow chicks
To Rome lend me your feathers no secret ears
Sticky Fingers she lost her writing finger in the
pond  OH! look whats beyond so kind
With her duckling apron dress he ducked
The chatty cat "City Dr Seuss"

Wearing duck boots those duck lips played her
like the fancy feast
The teachers pet the ducklings cute darlings
Spa cream she quite the flabber belly dancer
The ballet swan achiever "Spa One Day tripper"
The ugly duckling changed to beauty witch
Holy-land or duck pond Mickey's ears
                   Disneyland

Stand up daffy duck comedian Las Vegas
Godiva Peking duck soup flapping swishing
mess
The Big Ben red whose been sleeping in my
duck wing bed
The car stops he hiccups cute bebops
The guardian angel quack quack any luck
Yummy raspberry pie someone delivered

Christmas Scrooge all tears
New York lights camera I love my
        Serendipity chandeliers
Those duck tear drops last stop
Or you die__your still quacking
       Just in time said I
           Fly Robin Fly

     Saved my baby chick lovely
     Cradled her to love her
          Dr Seuss read

China doll with a porcelain white face,
How your smile is soft but fading.
Your eyes little doll, are dark and hollowed;
They speak only of a soul waning.

China doll with such dainty, fragile hands,
Why is it you stand so limply with a broken back?
I found you in the dark with hands tightly chained,
Is that how they became so bruised and so black?

China doll in your lovely yellow dress,
Your mouth was sewn shut by your owner:
She with her invisible strings became your master;
And you in your silence, her prisoner

How impeccably imperfect you are-
Your creator left a crack upon your face:

Of all the dolls she put on display,
You, China, are her special make.

BE THY OWN PALACE

Seated beside her
in the pew

her doll listened intently
to the Saviour who

emerges from
the old priest's mouth

an ectoplasm of words
as He manifests before her.

"Is there a doll heaven?"
she wonders.

Her little mistress however is
bored very bored indeed

much more interested  in
a sunbeam genuflecting

before the altar
extinguishing the priest's voice.

Or the ladybird
landing on a lady's foxfur

it more jewel
than the jewel worn.

Picking her nose
as the host is

held aloft

a bird perched upon
the left shoulder of

the crucifix
the Christ a mere cypher

how the artist
fancied HIm.

The crucified man smiling at her
despite how boring the sermon is.

Sunlight becoming colour
travelling through stained glass.

Her doll nods off
falling at her feet

"Shhhhhh!" father scolds
both doll and daughter.

Doll's head broken in four
nothing inside but an emptiness

all her thoughts
evaporated.

The smile still fixed
on her porcelain face.

Incense like death
walking upon the air.

The tiny ******
of a bell.

Mirror Mirror on the wall
What have I done
To deserve this all

Mirror Mirror on the wall
I can't take it anymore
They just wanna see me fall

Mirror Mirror on the wall
You'll see me on the floor
Mirror Mirror on the wall
I don't want to be your doll

That's what I was for them,
a doll to play with,
a doll to throw away when unwanted
and take back when needed
I got angry,
they pretended to be nice,
I let them do what they like,
but again they made me the doll
Never was my feelings considered
What feelings could a doll have,
they might have thought
Not their fault cause I stood there,
for years being their doll,
even when I could have ran,
I didn't
But now I am going to,
I no longer will be the doll,
go find a new one to play with and throw around

Spin spin Spin

Spin little doll

Lacquered wood

Years take their toll

But you always could


Dance Dance Dance

Dance little doll

Crimson paint

Sparks in dark coal

Arms in gentle faint


Sing Sing sin-

Little doll

Night dark lips

Crushed scarlet cheeks

Shoulder full o’ chips

Gears twist twist creeeaaak


Play play PLAY

Little doll girl

MaSteR of THe gAMe

Singing Sweetly Darkly

HoLDER of-of-of-of-of thE  CHAINs

Spinning spinning spinning

Spinspinspinspinspinspinspinspin

Sp

S

S

Singing Darkly

Danceing Dar-

Dark Swans

SpinningSPinningSPIN

Roundandroundandroundandround



HeL­P mE HelP ME Help ME

liTTle DolL

I ThInK-kkergljsenifh08q7er-k

I

I

I

Ithink I’M GOing

CraZY

One day as I sit on my bed ,I hear what seems to be the pitter-patter of little feet. So,I look up from my book and notice something strange.
The doll, yes the doll, that sits on my beds face has just changed.
From its once cute smile to a hard stare with a grimace for added affect. I tell myself that its just a doll apiece of plastic couldn't move.
So I continue to read. Again i hear the sound though this time its getting closer. AT about this point i get up and call my cat inside. the moment i get back to my bed the whole doll is gone. I think it must've been the dog, so i sit down to read again. too bad for me i didn't seem to look on the celling. now you know why im dead.

- yours from the grave,

Anna-Bella

Once there was a pale china doll
Walking slowly under her red parasol
China doll, why so pale?
China doll, you are to be cared
Wipe your tears, the moon’s soon to wane
Summer’s up not long, days with no more rain
Once there was a blooming china doll
Walking happily under her red parasol
China doll, why so blithe?
China doll, she’ll never be pale.

I had a doll once
An old doll
With a missing eye
A ripped dress
A bald patch on the back of her head
I loved that doll
I took her everywhere with me
None else liked that doll
They all said it was mean
That it scared them
I don’t know why they said this
Sure, it hurt a lot of people
And killed a few
But it was only doing what I told it too
I loved that doll
That old doll