Little girls love dolls. They just don't love doll clothes. We've got four thousand dolls and ain't one of them got a stitch of clothes on.
quote by Jeff Foxworthy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Valley Of The Dolls
Into the valley of the dolls
Into the valley of the dolls
Into the valley of the dolls
Went the gang of four
Song number one and the rhythm up amping
Drummer beats down 4/4 rock ranking
A bass so deep thud thud spines shaking
And all around mad eyes are rolling
Made up and stunning
As the feet get moving
As the pressure rising
White faces staring
As into the valley of the dolls
- go the gang of four
Song after song rockettes up rocking
One hundred watts scream man
My ears are bleedin
Hot bodies charged blonde locks a givin
And all around - young girls are fainting
Their hearts a pumpin
As the spikes are dancing
Shank girl shanking
I saw love vibrating
As into the valley of the dolls
- go the gallant four
Into the valley of the dolls
Into the valley of the dolls
As into the valley of the dolls
4 skulls are splitting
5 fingers are clicking
6 strings are burning
7th hour approaching
8 legs are stomping
9 lives are groovin
10 thousand coasting
X generating
As into the valley of the dolls
Into the valley of the dolls
Into the valley
Into the valley of the dolls
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ragetty Doll
Rosemary has of dolls a dozen,
Yet she disdains them all;
While Marie Rose, her pauper cousin
Has just an old rag doll.
But you should see her mother it,
And with her kisses smother it.
A twist of twill, a hank of hair,
Fit for the rubbish bin;
How Rosemary with scorn would stare
At its pathetic grin!
Yet Marie Rose can lover it,
And with her kisses cover it.
Rosemary is a pampered pet;
She sniffs a dainty nose
Of scorn at ragged dolls, and yet
My love's with Marie Rose,
In garret corner shy and sweet,
With rag doll Marguerite.
Though kin they are, a gulf will grow
Between them with the years;
For one a life of love will know,
The other toil and tears:
Perhaps that shabby rag doll knows
The rue of Marie Rose.
poem by Robert William Service
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My first modeling job was Gap, and my first time in front of the camera was for a Soda Pop Girls commercial - it's one of those Bratz dolls, Barbie dolls...one of those.
quote by Hailee Steinfeld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At Helen's for Tea.
After school
Helen's mother took you home to tea
and she was wheeling
the big pram along the pavement
with you on one side
and Helen on the other
and she said
hold onto the pram
while we cross the roads
I don't want anything
to happen to you
and as you crossed
the busy roads
you kept glancing over
at Helen with her plaited hair
parted in the middle
and her thin wired glasses
and her raincoat
buttoned tight
against the wind
and her small hand
clutching the pram handle tightly
and beside you
Helen's mother
short and stocky
pushing and puffing
and her eyes dark as night
and kind at the same time
and when you reached their home
and went inside
and she took off your coat
you went with Helen
into the sitting room
with a coal fire blazing
and the smell
of drying clothes
and past dinners
and Helen said
do you want to see my dolls
and the doll's house
my daddy made
out of boxwood
with lights you can turn off and on?
sure ok
you said
and you followed her
into her bedroom
where her toys and dolls
were laid up along the wall
next to her bed
and she took up a doll
and held her out to you
and said
this is my favourite
this is Jenny
and you said
hi Jenny how you doing?
and Helen smiled
her slightly goofy smile
and you liked that
her smile
and her eyes large as duck eggs
behind the thick lens
and she handed the doll
to you to hold
and you held the doll
and kissed the head
and hugged it close
thinking glad the other boys
can't see me now
here with this girl
and kissing and holding
the darn doll
out of some small boy love
and shyness
and you know
they'd laugh out loud
and point their tough boy fingers
and you're glad
they aren't there
just Helen
and her little girl love and kindness
against their rough ways
and small boy toughness.
poem by Terry Collett
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Wishes And Dreams Within
Four dolls in my work station, the
prettiest small amounts of money
could buy - a special doll must be
cheap, otherwise I cannot
play with her at all
The smallest doll represents the
grown-up shell in which the child-
hood version of adults dwell, the
two bigger, younger dolls re-
present the wonderment
Of early youth - the smallest one
reminds of undeveloped potential,
everyone has probable personalities
which had been repressed to allow
one main ego to develop well
A shock might activate other ego-
possibilities - a split into several
identities - I sincerely wish I had
several personalities in me, one
for mathematics, another
For transcribing legalese, one for
cooking, another for social activities
while the real core personality would
be free to write poetry - or swim in the
sea or - dance to the music
My dolls represent my idea of human
personality, a bunch of unrealised
wishes and ideals within…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Sankraanti
Those three days of
Sankraanti every year
from the times i've known
it was as if the house was
flodded with people from
all walks of life and we were
designers, architects and land-scapers
into the late hours returned dad
from his endless hours of work
and then the night would come alive
trunks of dolls carefully wrapped
in our swaddling clothes were carefully
spread on beds n blanktes-porcelean
english lady that grandma brought from
her maternal home, birth of jesus with
mary and joseph on either side of the baby-bed,
two variants of rama, sita, laxman and hanuman
dasavataaras, brahmins at a meal, toddy tapper,
ravenous crow, kirana merchant n his wfe, bowl of fruits,
birds in delicate transperant glass-you name it, it's there
and down below on either side were landscaped parks, forests,
hospital, dotted with lanes of sprouted methis n mustrad...
somehow dad had fascination only for the white procelean
and none of those earthern gods in synthetic paint
every year would be added a new doll
all dolls collected over thirty years and now
when i count the years, they're by now sixty plus
sadly locked up in trunks and palced on the attic...
the last even i recall was some twnety years ago
when our own children were barely two years...
all innovation and appropriate techology we learnt
observing dad arranging some six to eight rows
with every wooden plank to bricks and stoned from the road-side
to rice tins and travel trunks precariously balancing all the dolls...
people came all the three days
to recieve 'taambulam' and praised
the dolls endlessly and finally declare
'doctor ji has four dolls, why these again! '
and we would laugh shyly and see them off
the fourth day was a sad farewell to the dolls
once again wrapped carefully back into the trunk...
life was simple, fun, and there was so much to look forward to...
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Dolls Of Religion
Dolls of Religion
Virgin Mary was a Barbie doll, the only one that has given birth
to a Barbie doll baby. Two thousand years this went unseen till
she appeared in toy shops, together with a cute Barbie doll man
... her son? And you now find them both in many homes placed
on shelves or cradled in children's arms. Artificial created, we can
never be as perfect as them. Timeless they are never get old, not
in the image of man's imperfection, but in image of a dreams that
lack what resemble souls and holds no promise that man was for
a higher purpose than just being alive. As millions of people go on
diets, they can never obtain long legs like a Barbie doll.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Bahamas Cruise
On a cruise ship I did sail,
going to the Bahamas
remembering it well.
Listening to bands that played,
dance hits of their day,
That’s when the word
“happy” meant “gay”.
Taking photos on the deck,
eating lobster, shrimp and steak.
Raining when ship does land,
can not sunbathe on the sand.
Walking around to see the sights,
Bahama’s tote bag I did buy,
Along with 2 handmade
dolls pale and white.
One with black hair,
other with yellow.
One doll evil
other doll mellow.
Names “Razel” and “Melodie”
are sewn into each
separate doll,
in a craft like
looking mall.
Photos taken of dolls with me,
even Bahamian lady very pleased.
I put them in my Bahama’s tote,
More sightseeing before
getting on boat.
Walking around the town,
bargains everywhere to be found.
Now I will go back
some day again,
with a more interesting friend.
Written by Christina Sunrise Feb.24,2011
www.purplepoems.com
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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I played with dolls until I was 15. My mother encouraged it because my older sister got married when she was 15, so Mom thought that the longer I stayed with dolls, the better.
quote by Linda Evans
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Evita
The dolls are dancing for you oh my sweet Evita!
But there is polo in your blood;
So come around and let us have fun on this game,
And like the muse of your love in the garden of peace.
Your muse is like the Buckingham Palace,
But diamonds are not everything in this life;
And you can't expose what you are now doing in the public,
Because the dolls are now dancing for you! !
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Clothes
That party requires me to wear this and that
The dress code rules, the most annoying;
And if I have to deliver this news
Such as delivering newspapers
to be wearing a raincoat
How idiot-definitely-in times of rain and
the news was soaking
'How are you so? '
Weather folded pocket behind
The voice laughed, embarrassed the rigid rules..
What clothes should be removed
even though it
Giggles fly over the heads of
And golden perch in the cage
The owners of the kingdom of words;
Husband joked with another man's wife
In the pockets of his clothes there
1 box of cards,
mobile-phone numbers and streets with no name
'Excellent news today'
All nodding like dolls;
Made of tulips...
I say birds fly free
Dancing in my awkward silence
So what does it mean, all these dishes;
Presented after further ado completed
Or enjoy the embrace of the word..
After this we said go!
After this we remove the clothes;
And the buttons were scattered in the air
Became the new news about the clothes;
We laugh together..
(2009)
poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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Through their play Barbara imagined their lives as adults. They used the dolls to reflect the adult world around them. They would sit and carry on conversations, making the dolls real people.
quote by Ruth Handler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Female Rights
(10/5/12)
In olden days girls had to be prepared by age eight
Learning to cook, sew, and clean house
And prepare herself for a spouse.
The only dolls that these girls knew
Was put together by straw and glue.
Then with time things did change
Dolls were made for every age.
But mans ideas stayed the same
The females still did not have any rights
But yet they was taught to fight.
Centuries have passed since that time
And yet some things remain the same
In the middle east and parts of Asia
The female rights are still in danger.
But the sexual and physical abuse
Is all over the world, and it affects
Our boys and girls.
I think it's time for the public
To stand up and fight
For the children and women s rights.
© L. RAMS
poem by Louis Rams
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Bahamas 2008
On a cruise ship I did sail,
going to the Bahamas
remembering it well.
Listening to bands that played,
dance hits of their day,
That's when the word
"happy" meant "gay".
Taking photos on the deck,
eating lobster, shrimp and steak.
Raining when ship does land,
can not sunbathe on the sand.
Walking around to see the sights,
Bahama's tote bag I did buy,
Along with 2 handmade
dolls pale and white.
One with black hair,
other with yellow.
One doll evil
other doll mellow.
Names "Razel" and "Melodie"
are sewn into each
separate doll,
in a craft like
looking mall.
Photos taken of dolls with me,
even Bahamian lady very pleased.
I put them in my Bahama's tote,
More sightseeing before
getting on boat.
Walking around the town,
bargains everywhere to be found.
Now I will go back
some day again,
with a more interesting friend.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on Feb.24,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Shaking The Doll
Oh I wont be your pretty baby,
I wont eat from your hand again.
And the man in the white says its alright,
He says, come on girl give up the fight.
Youll go to sleep, there will be no pain.
Well I want to live with myself again.
Well, where we lived there was a lighthouse,
Throwing a white beam into our house,
Over my body when I was sleeping,
Over the secrets I was keeping,
I could tell myself there would be no pain,
But I have to live with myself again.
Im digging up, Im digging up,
Im digging up, Im digging up,
Im digging up, Im digging up,
Im digging in the earth.
Im looking for signs
And Im shaking the dolls
And the fairy-tales lied
And somewhere, back there
I didnt understand,
Man and woman and woman and man.
And Im shaking the dolls
Im shaking the dolls.
Oooh, the dream isnt coming through,
I cant feel for you.
Well somewhere, back there
I didnt understand,
Man and woman and woman and man,
And Im shaking the dolls
Im shaking the dolls.
Oooh I have to live with myself again,
Oohh I want to be with my body again,
Ooohyou cant make me hollow again.
Oooh, the dream isnt coming through
I cant feel for you.
Love, shooting up, through my veins,
I gotta get a hit again.
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Baby Doll
Baby girl
I love you so
Baby girl
Please don't go
Baby girl;
That's who I am to you
A little doll
You take great care of
You brush the hair
Back off my face
Look in my eyes
And see grace
You see me as beauty
Out of all the dolls you chose me
Your little baby doll
Whom you love
Your little baby girl
That's who I'll be
Waiting here for you
Till you want me
Your baby girl
As cute as can be
I'll be your friend
Tell you anything
For now I'll sit on my shelf
Quiet and relaxed
But one day you'll open my box
And wonder what you thought
Baby girl I'll always be
In that line waiting, waiting
For the chance when I'm your baby girl
Someday the one you love will be me
poem by Rose Marie Cook
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The Ancient of Days
A child sits in a sunny place,
Too happy for a smile,
And plays through one long holiday
With balls to roll and pile;
A painted wind-mill by his side
Runs like a merry tune,
But the sails are the four great winds of heaven,
And the balls are the sun and moon.
A staring doll's-house shows to him
Green floors and starry rafter,
And many-coloured graven dolls
Live for his lonely laughter.
The dolls have crowns and aureoles,
Helmets and horns and wings.
For they are the saints and seraphim,
The prophets and the kings.
poem by G.K. Chesterton from The Wild Knight and Other Poems (1900)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Dad & Mom
Dad born in South Dakota state
Mom born in New Jersey
they both married each other at a later date.
Being raised in Minnesota the land of the thousand lakes
it was fun playing out in the fields which was great!
Dad was a truck driver whose jacket was covered in oil
mom was an RN nurse mentioned Grandfather
came from blood of royal.
Birthday I do remember to this day
is when I received a doll Crissy
who I would loved to act out and play.
It was my 6th birthday which was fun
it was a fun time when I was young.
Dad took me to the store
recieved 2 Crissy dolls like never before.
I still have one doll till this day
she still wears the same orange dress that hasn't changed.
I will give it to a special girl for her birthday.
Dad and Mom still live in Minnesota with a new pet
it is a cat I haven't seen yet.
I will go visit them this year
to make sure Dad and Mom are fine
who I love so dear.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on April 2,2012
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Painted Dolls
Morally and ethically vacant
The puritan forgot to be decent
Banished from this humble abode
Alone on his faithless road
Changed over night I see
Because you weren't there for me
I fell into the grim reapers claws
While you had your painted dolls
I see I wasn't enough for you
Paying for filth, I feel what might be true
Guilt begot guilt
Upon my sewing quilt
A tapestry to hang on the wall
Where our love did seem to fall
Painted a story of the loveless eye
Where the innocent chose to die
You could have been there for me
Made me love again in this toiling sea
Yet you were gone with painted dolls
Setting my heart to raging falls
Once a timid stream that did not stir
Now; my love, you deserve no cure
For tired eyes that burn with hate
God would say you chose this fate
So curse and scream all you want
This deserved pain I do not flaunt
Go ahead down your lonely road
Away from your humble abode
To where you have your poison liquor
Not a memory will dare to flicker
Upon the eyes of those painted dolls
If only you answered my hopeless calls
poem by Chyna Parker
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