"ragdolls" poems - Hello Poetry

Glassy eye. While one sleeps, keep the second open blankly. People believe you when you look at them. Stare at them. Break into them. They'll believe in your strength. So you won't have to. Tangled yarn. Matted hair; red. Vibrant. Stand out before you stand up and sink. Pull it. Yank it out in devastation, frustration, desperation. Can you feel it escalate? Ripping thread. Twine comes tangled; tousled ropes of faith strung out. It's all a mess. There's a breaking heart here somewhere. Dig beneath the filamentous skin. If anyone dares to dig that long. Stitching smile. I'm tearing. Falling apart at every seam. Stitch me...pin me back together. Lift me up; I'm weightless. I present to you a plaster smile; don't forget to stab in dimples. After numerous unfaltering years, it's wearing thin. A tiny break appears. All the strings are coming loose. Iron-on teardrop; a permanent stain on a withered face. There are many uses for a Ragdoll. Play with her. Use her. Dress her. Change her. Throw her. Hold her. Hate her. Tear her. Tell her. Everything. She'll never let it go. Dance with her. Sleep with her. Hide her. Break her. Blame her. Love her. Trust her. Her stitching will hold. The perennial line of happiness will always prevail. Ragdolls look brightly into any light. Opening lifeless arms to please. Everyone. Anyone who needs them. Now, someone needs to need her. A Ragdoll is good for many things. Fitting any character and criteria. A Ragdoll can be selfless, ageless, fearless, reckless, seamless. However. Never worthless.

0

Aug 13, 2010

Aug 13, 2010 at 12:52 PM UTC

shelby-lydon

Ragdoll

Glassy eye. While one sleeps, keep the second open blankly. People believe you when you look at them. Stare at them. Break into them. They'll believe in your strength. So you won't have to. Tangled yarn. Matted hair; red. Vibrant. Stand out before you stand up and sink. Pull it. Yank it out in devastation, frustration, desperation. Can you feel it escalate? Ripping thread. Twine comes tangled; tousled ropes of faith strung out. It's all a mess. There's a breaking heart here somewhere. Dig beneath the filamentous skin. If anyone dares to dig that long. Stitching smile. I'm tearing. Falling apart at every seam. Stitch me...pin me back together. Lift me up; I'm weightless. I present to you a plaster smile; don't forget to stab in dimples. After numerous unfaltering years, it's wearing thin. A tiny break appears. All the strings are coming loose. Iron-on teardrop; a permanent stain on a withered face. There are many uses for a Ragdoll. Play with her. Use her. Dress her. Change her. Throw her. Hold her. Hate her. Tear her. Tell her. Everything. She'll never let it go. Dance with her. Sleep with her. Hide her. Break her. Blame her. Love her. Trust her. Her stitching will hold. The perennial line of happiness will always prevail. Ragdolls look brightly into any light. Opening lifeless arms to please. Everyone. Anyone who needs them. Now, someone needs to need her. A Ragdoll is good for many things. Fitting any character and criteria. A Ragdoll can be selfless, ageless, fearless, reckless, seamless. However. Never worthless.

33

**He clenched it tightly He'd only used it once "You have to pull the trigger first son, and BANG BANG BANG! You can **** anything!" With intense intent on his mind His verge for vengeance grew within, now it's time To show the bullies how he feels** *He glared at them with and intensity of a malicious lion gazing at prey. They stared at him back, paralyzed and gaping, surprised, scared, shivering at the sudden ominous cloud around this figure that once shook with the demons that clawed at his being every minute of the day.* **Teachers deigned to his prowess Consoling him not to shoot He glanced at that kid who kicked him, sneered at how stupid he is. He screamed with angst, blood streaming though his fingers. Trickled to pull the trigger, this is now or never.** *Suddenly, a whimper. He glances away quickly to see his little sister's eyes swim with murky waters. "danny..." He looks away. Then, shoots. one, two, three, four, five. He smiles, watches the chaos erupt the way his mind does every night, stares at the crimson velvet beginning to crawl out of the bodies as the ragdolls crowed with terror of the dead, ghastly large eyes , desperately hollow, wanting only the warmth escaping.* **He feels alive, for the first time he's the fire to ignite the dark Burning everything within his grasp, Dictating any norm in his way. The silence preaching him, Feeling remorse of that obscure stance. He ruptured every enmity that denotes innocence. Screaming, "WHY DO I STILL FEEL SO ******* EMPTY!!??"**

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Nov 2, 2014

Nov 2, 2014 at 4:13 PM UTC

who-wouldve-thought

GET DOWN! (collaboration with the amazing Erenn)

**He clenched it tightly He'd only used it once "You have to pull the trigger first son, and BANG BANG BANG! You can **** anything!" With intense intent on his mind His verge for vengeance grew within, now it's time To show the bullies how he feels** *He glared at them with and intensity of a malicious lion gazing at prey. They stared at him back, paralyzed and gaping, surprised, scared, shivering at the sudden ominous cloud around this figure that once shook with the demons that clawed at his being every minute of the day.* **Teachers deigned to his prowess Consoling him not to shoot He glanced at that kid who kicked him, sneered at how stupid he is. He screamed with angst, blood streaming though his fingers. Trickled to pull the trigger, this is now or never.** *Suddenly, a whimper. He glances away quickly to see his little sister's eyes swim with murky waters. "danny..." He looks away. Then, shoots. one, two, three, four, five. He smiles, watches the chaos erupt the way his mind does every night, stares at the crimson velvet beginning to crawl out of the bodies as the ragdolls crowed with terror of the dead, ghastly large eyes , desperately hollow, wanting only the warmth escaping.* **He feels alive, for the first time he's the fire to ignite the dark Burning everything within his grasp, Dictating any norm in his way. The silence preaching him, Feeling remorse of that obscure stance. He ruptured every enmity that denotes innocence. Screaming, "WHY DO I STILL FEEL SO ******* EMPTY!!??"**

40

Timelike and the decaying bodies piled high cease to amuse the vultures now Single shots give the rebels confidence They attack in force Heavy machine gun fire from the west toss bodies into the air like ragdolls Textbook Vultures tearing at eyes of the dead and dying Bullets to precious for mercy The night brings natures other cleaners Muffled screams heighten the reactions as night vision survey death in technicolor The ponderous wait continues Stroking metal like some *** provoking act Followed only by counting lives little savers, bullets of love The vultures dance impatiently The stroking intensifies Hairs stand ***** as movement waves majestically towards its final objective A sudden calm unfolds Nature watches in awe as love is unleashed in her garden for the final time The call to bayonets now, takes man down to his lowest form of savagery Eyes now meet, screaming death the ferocious last act of men past the point of madness Blood flows as metal slice through skin and bone, swaying death the final frenzy as screams die the days end Men cry as they survey the last atrocity of human barbarity Battle ended, vultures marvel feasting on the final meal Battle hardened men massacre memories leaving Celebrations a distant Country as blood red hands refuse to wash They would never return.

0

Nov 4, 2015

Nov 4, 2015 at 6:13 AM UTC

Gaffer

The Vultures Dance.

Timelike and the decaying bodies piled high cease to amuse the vultures now Single shots give the rebels confidence They attack in force Heavy machine gun fire from the west toss bodies into the air like ragdolls Textbook Vultures tearing at eyes of the dead and dying Bullets to precious for mercy The night brings natures other cleaners Muffled screams heighten the reactions as night vision survey death in technicolor The ponderous wait continues Stroking metal like some *** provoking act Followed only by counting lives little savers, bullets of love The vultures dance impatiently The stroking intensifies Hairs stand ***** as movement waves majestically towards its final objective A sudden calm unfolds Nature watches in awe as love is unleashed in her garden for the final time The call to bayonets now, takes man down to his lowest form of savagery Eyes now meet, screaming death the ferocious last act of men past the point of madness Blood flows as metal slice through skin and bone, swaying death the final frenzy as screams die the days end Men cry as they survey the last atrocity of human barbarity Battle ended, vultures marvel feasting on the final meal Battle hardened men massacre memories leaving Celebrations a distant Country as blood red hands refuse to wash They would never return.

24

I can’t see the sky falling down on me. I can hear the angels crying. Tears crashing like colossal rain drops on reminiscent individuals and broken buildings. Spilling through open airways and clogged avenues. Oceans now over obstructions. I can feel the sun bursting. Radiation detonating like a thousand bombs through blue television screens and ragdolls. Emanating above sensible cells and raw forests. Deserts now in a splendor of abundance. But no, The sky is not falling down on me.

0

Sep 3, 2012

Sep 3, 2012 at 11:56 PM UTC

jj-mansolf

Cataclysmic

I can’t see the sky falling down on me. I can hear the angels crying. Tears crashing like colossal rain drops on reminiscent individuals and broken buildings. Spilling through open airways and clogged avenues. Oceans now over obstructions. I can feel the sun bursting. Radiation detonating like a thousand bombs through blue television screens and ragdolls. Emanating above sensible cells and raw forests. Deserts now in a splendor of abundance. But no, The sky is not falling down on me.

11

silent tears burn angry nightclubs with unconscious menageries of orange childhoods drink the attention artificial gleaming bodies licking knives sang burgundy 'glow' covers winter answers ragdolls with drowning voices and double standards aged sunrises shatter china wisped from personal dedication doodles reminiscent of rain seas mercilessly embellished with stinging souls from superficial smiles suffered pink writers cry ink and scream distant songs of artists life past long understood things premature custom murders and the crackling of caught conflagrations professional bullets to multiheaded actresses pulsating lies sacrificial circuses with retro dancers bold riding on evident songbirds choice movements ignored the colored flame nonexistent pronouns alien campaign slithering sunlight control impermanent celebration sending snuffed cries to insult children who struggle with melody and shed vines of saved unsure crime and unknown attraction lost passengers with incorrect guestimates and impossible dreamlike stabs honest as snakeskin court born with salt and glitter king calming tentacled shakespeare seasoned atmosphere looker smile hiding sweet prominence grasp shadows finger paint the walls, dead brother mine white flame realize light pain coldhanded, rosy eyes death slowing reality stop

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Apr 28, 2019

Apr 28, 2019 at 12:13 PM UTC

MyNameIsAlexanderHamilton

glass thoughts and untitled nights

silent tears burn angry nightclubs with unconscious menageries of orange childhoods drink the attention artificial gleaming bodies licking knives sang burgundy 'glow' covers winter answers ragdolls with drowning voices and double standards aged sunrises shatter china wisped from personal dedication doodles reminiscent of rain seas mercilessly embellished with stinging souls from superficial smiles suffered pink writers cry ink and scream distant songs of artists life past long understood things premature custom murders and the crackling of caught conflagrations professional bullets to multiheaded actresses pulsating lies sacrificial circuses with retro dancers bold riding on evident songbirds choice movements ignored the colored flame nonexistent pronouns alien campaign slithering sunlight control impermanent celebration sending snuffed cries to insult children who struggle with melody and shed vines of saved unsure crime and unknown attraction lost passengers with incorrect guestimates and impossible dreamlike stabs honest as snakeskin court born with salt and glitter king calming tentacled shakespeare seasoned atmosphere looker smile hiding sweet prominence grasp shadows finger paint the walls, dead brother mine white flame realize light pain coldhanded, rosy eyes death slowing reality stop

34

Why is there a glass pane between me and everyone? It's becoming so strong that I even hear the rain through the sun. And you're falling away from me, but this girl can't, Catch ye ragdolls up, ye must slip through this hand. Gold flecks you have left all over me, A beacon of hope as they shine out relentlessly, If you stay, the light can break through and you'd see, The light blare through the darkness in me. A feeling of regret sets in, before we've even ready, set, You're still in my vision and I can't handle it. My heart will feel your presence, even when you're not near, My heart will feel your shadow, as if you were right here.

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Jun 16, 2013

Jun 16, 2013 at 4:39 PM UTC

luna-1

Gold Flecks

Why is there a glass pane between me and everyone? It's becoming so strong that I even hear the rain through the sun. And you're falling away from me, but this girl can't, Catch ye ragdolls up, ye must slip through this hand. Gold flecks you have left all over me, A beacon of hope as they shine out relentlessly, If you stay, the light can break through and you'd see, The light blare through the darkness in me. A feeling of regret sets in, before we've even ready, set, You're still in my vision and I can't handle it. My heart will feel your presence, even when you're not near, My heart will feel your shadow, as if you were right here.

12

A torrent of emotion Breaks forth. A reservoir of tears Pouring out like A force of nature Melting bones And burning flesh Scorching souls And shattering hearts. Leaving empty vessels Like ragdolls Limp and lifeless

0

Jun 18, 2015

Jun 18, 2015 at 5:15 PM UTC

niamh81

The pain of tears

A torrent of emotion Breaks forth. A reservoir of tears Pouring out like A force of nature Melting bones And burning flesh Scorching souls And shattering hearts. Leaving empty vessels Like ragdolls Limp and lifeless

12

place your hands on either side of my ribs and feel my pinky-stretched muscles twist and grind with the earth’s orbits tap your finger on my temple and listen to the bones hollowed-out by termites that run on memories hold my wrists above my head and look at the stretched skin of my stomach so translucent you can see the treasure map I etched all over me these bodies are sponges absorbing the wind into our hips and sprawling our fingers to try and catch the air and stick it back into our lungs muscling through the salty waves that stain our cheeks a raw pink and erode our invincible confidence and chip our pearly smile we grab for our surroundings with a dying necessity and sew them into ourselves so that we are patched into an identity so when we are tired of being ragdolls pieced together by our triumphs and failures we begin to choose any fabric regardless of the color, shape, or size just to cover the holes we have created then we face the mirror to see our what is left we are disappointed not by our own mouths but the ones on the faces behind us looking past their own holes and into our own where you can see the taught fibers of stretched muscles the tunnels termites have created in ivory bones and pale skin pulled tight around panting lungs.

0

Apr 30, 2017

Apr 30, 2017 at 2:35 PM UTC

rachelbirdsongg

when eyes become mirrors

place your hands on either side of my ribs and feel my pinky-stretched muscles twist and grind with the earth’s orbits tap your finger on my temple and listen to the bones hollowed-out by termites that run on memories hold my wrists above my head and look at the stretched skin of my stomach so translucent you can see the treasure map I etched all over me these bodies are sponges absorbing the wind into our hips and sprawling our fingers to try and catch the air and stick it back into our lungs muscling through the salty waves that stain our cheeks a raw pink and erode our invincible confidence and chip our pearly smile we grab for our surroundings with a dying necessity and sew them into ourselves so that we are patched into an identity so when we are tired of being ragdolls pieced together by our triumphs and failures we begin to choose any fabric regardless of the color, shape, or size just to cover the holes we have created then we face the mirror to see our what is left we are disappointed not by our own mouths but the ones on the faces behind us looking past their own holes and into our own where you can see the taught fibers of stretched muscles the tunnels termites have created in ivory bones and pale skin pulled tight around panting lungs.

39