Let's Get Creative

pearljamfan-1997 · October 2011

Porcelain doll

little girl, all blonde with your eyes
sitting in a conner
dead in your life
playing with the porcelain doll...

pretty features portrayed in black paint
reddest lips never able to frown
flawless pale skin, hard to the touch
this girl has never loved something so much...

except for her daddy
who' yells and screams
whos hostile outburts haunts her dreams.
who scares the monsters under her bed
and sings sweet songs til shes sleeping in bed

Now look at the doll perched on your shelf
slouched and dirty,
black featuures smudged
pretty red lips cracked and worn
and the flawless skin chipped and cold...

you look back to the last day
she threw down her porcelain doll
and stalked away
her rebelious smile
lost in time
as you drift off into thoughts...
'shelooks like her mother but her personality is mine'
you break down and begin to cry

dont throw this porcelian treasure
like you did the vase
dont llet it break
like you did her
a fragile hard self
shattered to pieces so sharp
theycut threw skin...

whats left remains in the porcelain doll
its more than whats left in her
you betrayed her, you did
let her fall down that hole

little girl, perfect and crisp
her face plainly marked with innocence...
and because of you
it fades into
the last picture in your head...
of your beloved daughter, now dead.
the last spark of life you ran out of her,
black hair down her back
red lips bleeding harsh profanities
and eyes...
dead eyes...
of a porcelain doll...
black makeup smudged away...
sorrowful tears the wiped away
the pale perfection of the porcelain doll.

rollings · October 2011

pearljamfan-1997 wrote:

Porcelain doll

little girl, all blonde with your eyes
sitting in a conner
dead in your life
playing with the porcelain doll...

.....

you write entirely beyond your years

(you should go ahead and put this out there in a thread by itself)

tremors · October 2011

Yes, that is a really really good poem pearljamfan-1997

pandora · October 2011

pearljamfan-1997 wrote:

Porcelain doll

little girl, all blonde with your eyes
sitting in a conner
dead in your life
playing with the porcelain doll...

pretty features portrayed in black paint
reddest lips never able to frown
flawless pale skin, hard to the touch
this girl has never loved something so much...

except for her daddy
who' yells and screams
whos hostile outburts haunts her dreams.
who scares the monsters under her bed
and sings sweet songs til shes sleeping in bed

Now look at the doll perched on your shelf
slouched and dirty,
black featuures smudged
pretty red lips cracked and worn
and the flawless skin chipped and cold...

you look back to the last day
she threw down her porcelain doll
and stalked away
her rebelious smile
lost in time
as you drift off into thoughts...
'shelooks like her mother but her personality is mine'
you break down and begin to cry

dont throw this porcelian treasure
like you did the vase
dont llet it break
like you did her
a fragile hard self
shattered to pieces so sharp
theycut threw skin...

whats left remains in the porcelain doll
its more than whats left in her
you betrayed her, you did
let her fall down that hole

little girl, perfect and crisp
her face plainly marked with innocence...
and because of you
it fades into
the last picture in your head...
of your beloved daughter, now dead.
the last spark of life you ran out of her,
black hair down her back
red lips bleeding harsh profanities
and eyes...
dead eyes...
of a porcelain doll...
black makeup smudged away...
sorrowful tears the wiped away
the pale perfection of the porcelain doll.

Lovely and sad ... submit it somewhere! :clap:

justam · October 2011

pandora wrote:

The colors of autumn,
red yellow gold and orange,
hues of a last hoorah.
My birds they flock to leave behind
notes of their final song.

Ghosts of days past
crunch beneath my feet.
Days when a walk in the woods
could free me.

Simple tasks and simple wishes
now gently float to the ground.
They lie at my feet, out of reach,
only to wither and die.

I hear the song, I hum along
my song of past loves and wants.
Like nourishment in a ghostly form,
ghosts of my days passed.

Pandora,

I like this picture and the words you wrote for it.

pandora · October 2011

justam wrote:

pandora wrote:

The colors of autumn,
red yellow gold and orange,
hues of a last hoorah.
My birds they flock to leave behind
notes of their final song.

Ghosts of days past
crunch beneath my feet.
Days when a walk in the woods
could free me.

Simple tasks and simple wishes
now gently float to the ground.
They lie at my feet, out of reach,
only to wither and die.

I hear the song, I hum along
my song of past loves and wants.
Like nourishment in a ghostly form,
ghosts of my days passed.

Pandora,

I like this picture and the words you wrote for it.

thanks very much, justam ... it is a pretty picture, yes,...
and a road I'd like to take

pandora · October 2011

Crying to the Sky

to all those I have loved

I cry

the moments I have cherished

I cry

for some I have not known

I cry

and for the gifts of others

through my gains and losses

I cry

with the aching too

I cry

learning all the pain

I cry

loneliness and shame

I cry

loving is what saves

I cry

my soul to continue

reaching to the sky

I cry

begging for forgiveness

I cry

longing for my others

I cry

I am coming home

I cry

I am coming home

pandora · October 2011

THERE

I remember you from always even before I knew you were there

the hushed voice under all others
a swoosh and a breath
I knew your words
while doubting my own

you were there

the shooting star
in the corner of my eye
a mistaken movement
a side glance with deep eyes

you were there

as sure as a sunrise and a sunset
starts and ends each day

as sure as love lasts forever
and is ours to keep at least until then

you were there

I remember your love from always even before I knew it was there

pandora · October 2011

rollings · October 2011

pandora wrote:

"I moon you."

"I moon you too."

pandora · October 2011

Rollings wrote:

pandora wrote:

"I moon you."

"I moon you too."

this was a nice surprise!

thanks!!

what really came to mind what I wanted to say was
I cherish you!
but that sounded corny

rollings · October 2011

pandora wrote:

Rollings wrote:

pandora wrote:

"I moon you."

"I moon you too."

this was a nice surprise!
thanks!!

what really came to mind what I wanted to say was
I cherish you! but that sounded corny

What I originally wanted to say was:

"You're kind of weighty for a fairy. You're putting alot of strain on my tip"

"I won't be long. My pants are in the dryer"

"Oh. Okay."

pandora · October 2011

Celestial Dee Light

I happened upon a woman
with wildly golden hair
spun in curls and waves
seemingly lit from the inside

She smiled at me as I gazed in glass
I knew that I'd been blessed
her hand held mine within our heart
this magic was our own

The tears they fell from
fields of green
specked gold and brown
they reign

Her lips then moved with words of old
'Be warm and soft and gentle be'
she whispered on our path

heavenly is what she was
and Heaven she'll return

pandora · October 2011

"Ride a little pony ride to town . . . Ride a little pony don't fall down"

I am busy at the kitchen sink,
her still small voice trails over to me

"Mama this place is wonderful"

I turn to look . . .'huh?'

"Home Mama, your home is so wonderful, beautiful, really,
it really is. It's like heaven."

She is raiding the pantry, munching from a can of mixed nuts,
surely choosing my favorites. I smile.

Turning back to the sink I am hit with a memory,
the moment rewinds 20 years.
She is on a small step stool next to me,

'washing' the dishes.

Her thick golden hair, dampened, hangs ponytail style.
Tiny hands covered in bubbles, she blows them off,
they float gently back into the dishpan.

Her toothless grin meets my smile.

A little apron tied at her waist is soaked, drenched through,
Cookie Monster's face in his familiar forever smile,

drips water to the floor.

Giggling she says, "Mama can we play pony after this?"
She begins to hum the tune.
The last words echo in my thoughts,

'don't fall down.'

Back to this moment, my daughter all grown,
she stands before me,
a small whispered prayer . . . 'don't fall down'

then the hushed words
'You are Home baby girl . . . you are Home to me'

pandora · October 2011

Lies

one day
the clarity of my life and all those in it
will be mine to know

like a puzzle finally complete
a picture it will make

true spirits
are the green valleys
blue skies sunflowers
birds in flight against puffy white clouds

all the beauty in my picture
they will make

lies from the dishonest
form the grey clouds
a fog that hangs over the beauty
that could have been seen
should have been seen
but for the fear we will never know

my picture
obscured by lies
but knows the truth
formed less than beautiful
then mine to keep

tremors · October 2011

Been reading back through this thread - there is some great stuff here - I particularly liked this one

pandora wrote:

THERE

I remember you from always even before I knew you were there

the hushed voice under all others
a swoosh and a breath
I knew your words
while doubting my own

you were there

the shooting star
in the corner of my eye
a mistaken movement
a side glance with deep eyes

you were there

as sure as a sunrise and a sunset
starts and ends each day

as sure as love lasts forever
and is ours to keep at least until then

you were there

I remember your love from always even before I knew it was there

pandora · October 2011

tremors wrote:

Been reading back through this thread - there is some great stuff here - I particularly liked this one

pandora wrote:

THERE

I remember you from always even before I knew you were there

the hushed voice under all others
a swoosh and a breath
I knew your words
while doubting my own

you were there

the shooting star
in the corner of my eye
a mistaken movement
a side glance with deep eyes

you were there

as sure as a sunrise and a sunset
starts and ends each day

as sure as love lasts forever
and is ours to keep at least until then

you were there

I remember your love from always even before I knew it was there

Hey thanks tremors, for the time spent and the praise ...
means a lot to me

this came from faith,
at a time when I needed to reinforce, remind and embrace what is mine...
always mine.

pandora · November 2011

Cruel World

Who are these people? . . . without a kind word

Who are these people? . . . thinking humans weak

Who are these people? . . . preying upon others

Who are these people? . . . living lives for greed

Who are these people? . . . teaching their young to bully

Who are these people? . . . profiting from addiction

Who are these people? . . . raping our children

Who are these people? . . . spewing criticism and hate

Who are these people? . . . creating this cruel world

Who? Who? Who? Who! . . . raise your hand if it is you!

pandora · November 2011

reflection in a shadow

i awoke this morning to a lovely shadow on the wall
intricate branches of a tree outside
with a few lasting leaves fluttering in a breeze
i could not feel i could not hear
i lay mesmerized watching the shadow in fleeting moments

we had a short time together

i raised my hand to see it small amongst the leaves
i moved it with the breeze
that i could not feel that i could not hear

i felt separate yet apart changing yet the same fleeting yet lasting

in a moment in forever i am a reflection in a shadow

wtf-is-this-world · November 2011

(I wrote this after reading the "colors of autumn" thread, actually, thanks for the lovely pictures Pandora, I think they really do stir something)

Yellow leaves on my window
Remind me that you’re gone.
Wet leaves under my feet
Tell sad tales of love rotting away
Boughs towering high in shades of gold
Shine bright on my empty sighs
Dead leaves on my threshold
Blown in on the same wind that blew you gone

Frost on heather time has stopped
My heart ran out of beats when my eyes ran out of tears
Flow, river flow, run over my burning skin
The leaves washed away are never seen again

Moss on trees thick and dark
My heart has grown so hard
The lines on bark tell a story that is hard to read
As my fingers become number
Streams trickle by whispering the tale
Of how you slid like sand through my hands
Ripples on water a mirror to my deserted soul
I keep staring in hoping you will appear again.

I’ll sit again under the fire-leaved tree
While the frost bites at me
Wondering what I did that made you
Ever want to love me

Should I follow the road
Or step deeper in the dark woods?
Should I follow you and beg you to give me back my love?
Should I let the river take me where it may
Wash me of all my pain
Wash away my memories?
I wish it gave me another glimpse of you
But all I see are blotches of me

I’ll sit again under the fire-leaved tree
While the frost bites at me
Wondering what I did that made you
Want to leave me

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