Mannequins

What are your thoughts and feelings about mannequins? Male/Female/zombie/steampunk/ clear mirror or glass/ other kinds of models. Do they frighten you? Are there some you want to love? Does one speak to you in a personal way and, if so, what does he/she/it say? Is there a secret inside one of the mannequin's body parts?

Tell me in prose or poem, new or old.

No word limit. Post as many entries as you'd like.

Mannequin    


When I picture
you
I fade away
into the view
of your portrait
I circle around
the image so still
hoping to put life in
your mannequin .


I drift down
old grainy roads
of the past
ones we walked
along
to old songs
in a gone cast  
all faded now
our ghosts , together they laugh
just a replay
of the days
I'll never get back .


My love
I know you're , gone
but please feel me
I'm hunched , I'm falling upon
where I do bleed
it cuts
a pain so strong
it's severing me
but you've gone ,you've gone
and to the floor
I scream , and what was one
is half a man
now seen .

I'll be back for this one. Very interesting!  A few questions before I begin: is there a limit to posts?  Or a word limit?

SirCreepy said:I'll be back for this one. Very interesting!  A few questions before I begin: is there a limit to posts?  Or a word limit?

No word limit. Post as many entries as you'd like.

Thanks, I have many different ways I can think to approach this, though I'll try not to spam

All dressed up and no place to go


Well Hello there
Mr Mannequin.
That shirt and trousers combo
sure suits you.
You look so relaxed or ready
as though the clothes were made to fit
Not quite my style though.
I would look you in the eye
but you wouldn't look back
or still look ever inward to the blank walls,
while eternally bathed in the spotlight.
Maybe profound thoughts do rattle around
in your perfect empty head.
So maybe not all models are air heads,
but your face sure is pure plastic.
No price is too high for the shirt off your back
though the tinman has more heart than you.
Still, lucky you have a head
while some of the suited squad
have all the style
And the underwear demigods
have all the junk in their trunk
but nothing above the shoulders and pecs.
But even though you are always stylish
while I overheat, sweat and stare at you
there is no motion to the motionless.
All dressed up and no place to go,
and still here when I return
So I'll be off.
The world turns but you're stuck posing stock-still.
Goodday to you.

EYES ON ME

As I pass you in the mall
Your eyes seem fixed on me
Watching my every move
With a thousand-yard stare

Looking into my eyes
The windows to my very soul
Knowing the perverted truth
Rotting the pit of my soul

Why do you mock me?
The things you have seen
Surely would make for an intriguing tale
If only you could speak

I want to cut your eyes out
Blind you to this cruel world
Oh, wait a minute
I'm talking to a fucking mannequin

HOUSE FULL OF DEMONS

Sitting in the living room
In my grandmother's house
There are eyes everywhere
Watching my every move

She has nearly a hundred of them
In every corner, and on every shelf
Of every room
A taxidermy buck as a mantlepiece, my grandfather's

The buck, a majestic 11-point white-tail
Gives me a strange comfort
But these fucking dolls
Surely must have been shat from the bowels of Satan himself

I want to destroy them
Smash every one of the little bitches
Dressed in Victorian attire
With cold eyes and mocking expressions

Silent Watchers

Silent watchers
they stand
in their best clothes
changing every couple
of weeks
to show the best wear
thin and tall
just standing there
watching with eternally
opened sightless eyes
without heart or soul
they stand still
the silent watchers
they give me the chills.

wax museum wishes


it does'nt even matter to me if she's real
i hang out at the mall lookin at her so much
they think i'm tryin to steal
storefront
what i thought to be a boring cunt
severed my carotid artery
now it's a party

a familiar darkness
shimmers and shines
she needs an explicit warning sticker
and a drug interaction research pamphlet

i love the smell of manic panic
doom and gloom
emotional hesitation
periodic isolation
only suicidal
in the morning

her and all her costumes
once or twice a week
her fashion takes the piss
the smell of the aurora borealis
black lights behind those dark shades
if i could blink
i would'nt want to
i would engage in sepulcher
to prevent her from breaking a nail
i might even cut my hair
and shave
quit drinking to trip that trigger
and mural her walls
with enough of my brains
to paint a picture
of the idealogy of connection
i left back on krypton

i've been in love with dead women before
but they don't usually don't die first
the eternal search for tender touch
ends here
with a cold blue scratch through my scruff


funeral flowers
if i could just make the dull buck knife cut
before the rest of these cowards
i might actually leave the house again
i may try to remember an evening of consumption
rather than force feeding a forget

shit hot inexperienced
i don't give a fuck dancin
a few e tabs
honey mustard and some bubble wrap
enough confidence to leave
the light on
enough trust to break the switch
tattoos sexy enough to circumvent
the no sleep over rule
once again she played me for the fool
planes,trains and automobiles with flat tires
to have your hand pull me back from that mire
i'll hold those lines

we don't need to talk too much


i've got the best girlfriend ever
not too good at cooking,cleaning and such
but she never bitches about me coming home late
or drinking too much

she don't care if we go to the cabin
or out on the lower east side
no uncomfortable silences
sometimes
i need to shut my mouth
so i can hear myself think
that's just one of the little things
that she has taught me

as far as i know
she's never fucked any of my friends
but hey thas a whole different can of worms
who knows?

her nipples are always hard
she has got this quaint lil smile
i can always see her grinning at me
out of the corner of her eye
wears my favorite outfits
whenever i like

nothing much to hide
that lil light inside
is all mine

without her
i would be so alone
so alone

her parents
seem to be quite fond
of the way i treat her
but they don't come around much
that's always a plus

whenever i'm ready for bed
she is right there with me
i can go fishing with the boys
and never have to worry
about her goin out and getting drunk
with one of her slutty friends
i don't really care for

she's a bit cold sometimes
but are'nt we all
open armed
whenever i get home from work
she does'nt mind the overtime
finances got a lil tight last month
i cried in her lap all night long
after a bottle of jack
she never told a soul

i can ask her to hold my jacket for a minute
and she'll never let go
so niether will I

nothing much to hide
that lil light inside
is all mine
without her
i would be so alone
i would be so cold
nothing much to hide
that lil light inside
is all mine

THIS AFTERNOON..

I'm a ridicule..
human beings don't love me , so I'm her with you
sitting on this bench no money to eat.
well it seems
Mc Donalds is all in thee.
I'm a clown as a well
to every body who got no respect..
I expect
laughs for attention so I can look like some one else..
I make a fool of my own self.
as my feelings don't agree to dwell
in my heart no more
they over flow..
so let me relax
with you wax
watch your colors so bright,
although its just like mine,
mine is degrading inside.
so let me be here with you
and feel your cold company this afternoon..

The Madame Mannequin Affair   *part I


I started with puppetry in puberty
progressing to mannequins and maniacs
lesson learned late, demonic possession
my mistake .. was to connive and conjure
manipulate, animate, hesitate and ponder
from the dark side, from where the unknown reside
to partake and strive, implore upon her
life giving force, birth of a soul, I ignored
the underworld of deception and realms beyond
with regret I pay the ultimate .. in time
I convey to you my somber and sad tale

Madame Mannequin, my mannequin .. lust pretend
disguised pause I recognize .. playing hard to get again?
lover ghost within a shell, without a tongue who are you going to tell?
created from dark spells, incantations .. the life I meld
what moves you?, whispered dream, rubber rendezvous redeemed
my mannequin bleeds, spells she now breathes, again how she deceives

torso toy disturbed, do not destroy her, you're more the voyeur
broken mirrors, store front windows and closed doors
silhouetted shade, your cage raises hairs, with your aloof stares
subliminal messages, I am reading and believing into this
imagining, illusions of the imbued, I see through

may I have this dance? ..you hesitate, I insist
your steps, light as a feather, soft as your kiss
mannequin, my mannequin, look away, you stutter step
you dip, you spin, your swept, you're the perfect pirouette
I've got the lead, no need for you to weave
all the guys from men's wear lurking and smirking

seduction with your vapid stare, I ask, thirsty?
I turn away, fetch you a drink .. click-clack .. thud!
my heart skips a beat, oh my darling .. knickknack love
all the couples staring, as they continue to dance
the imbroglio enhanced .. you tripping by chance

one leg clearly broken, splintered ..oozing sap
nothing that can't be fixed, wired and patched
heartless, uncaring .. as you lie there, legs akimbo
rolling eyes, trolling spies, murmurs of a drunken bimbo

dress-up and roll playing games your forte
rough night conveys your spiritless and silent ways
noticed you hardly move your lips .. when you do speak
novice dancer, floor assault, not your fault you creak
another crept .. did she? .. lover wept, with me?
her shattered limb clatters, drags and gathers, doesn't matter

drops of wax weaving love-sick serpentine
tweaking termites and tainted turpentine
painted faces, lingerie laces squeaking hinges
animation spells from hell with weeping tinges

sales clerks with smirks, they can't hold a candle to you
if they did .. you'd lite up like a roman torch!
failsafe affair .. except with the woodshop repair
don't I always ask .. before? .. it's not like I use force
fumes from your perfume of shellac-eau de solvent scent

carved dark inside, you cut such a nice figure
starved heart besides, too much you malinger
threat of fire upsets her to hiss .. temperamental bitch!
princess pariah, deny her leather lips, acquired with a clever wish
lonely for *Pinocchio, I'll rent you a mime .. with a broken neck
you're the only one I know, who loves and survives choke-sex

addicted salacious, fixated asphyxiation
baby can you breathe, maybe if you could see
always feigning fast, lady lure your tainted past
I know you've posed in the ladies lingerie section
rumors of you and the others, your lewd lovers
clean-up crew and the maintenance men sessions

jakehammer

*Walt Disney Studios

When Cyanide was a kid..

Beautiful eyes that speaks nothing
hair dressed to perfection , by watching em I'm smudging
my tender mind
with thoughts that find
curiosity lying
everywhere in front of my eyes.

I remember sneaking into my sisters room to undress her dolls
find what's beneath those clothes , now I'm here in the mall
we got plenty of em around here
"mama!! mama!! are they for real."
she said, "shut up! cy ., let me see what I can get for meal."

Damn! I gotta find what's in there
well , will they catch me if I come near
will I even appear in their soulless eyes?
hmm.. what's there in trying...

I get closer
put my hands on her to get more closure
jump up to get to her shoulder
she doesn't move
it all seems good..

"you've got a beautiful dress lady doll."
I touch those ball
like thing she has got
whats that all about?
where are they on my chest?
am I touching the right spot?
well she has bums like me
so I should also have those balls rightly!
hmm.... let me see..
"Hey cy .." she calls, time to leave
good bye lady doll, see you next weak..

those beautiful eyes didn't speak much
though it did answer my curiosities as I gradually grew up.
Answers, that would later excavate my lust