Monday 17 November 2008

My Doll House

Surrounded by my doll house -
my life-size living doll house!
The figures surround me, drown me.
Clones all around me!
They're almost identical, they do not seem to know.
They're barely alive, they do not seem to know.
Their day lies ahead - never changing,
years of awful monotony.

My living dolls live up to expectations,
Never shock, surprise... But occasionally,
torment.
They repeat, repeat, repeat.
Their death would not change much!
They think themselves unique -
Of some kind of importance.
They are not,
they are clones.
All clones.
They are as important as a child's toy,
and have about as much impact!

They live there days in tedious monotony.
Barely there - barely aware,
alive only just - no change.
Scared of change in fact, scared of the different -
scared of the noses on their faces.
Living in a carefully molded rountine,
carefully sculpted - free of excitement, change -
the same as the dolls in a child's doll house.

Like my life size living doll house.

3 comments:

The Weaver of Grass said...

Hi Eclipse! Glad about your choice of photograph! It just shows you as you are.
Wow! That poem! What to say about it? I have read it several times but not sure I understand it.
(That is not a criticism - most of the poetry I read takes a long time to sink in and to be understood). I like the use of
"doll house" rather than doll's house - hope this was intentional and not just a grammatical slip.
Are you talking about people really or about dolls? I suspect you are saying that you are surrounded by people going about their daily work - e.g. people on buses, in the street etc., - about whom you know little andare never in close contact with. Am I on the right lines - please enlighten me. Maybe a footnote to the poem would help.

Eclipse said...

Hello!

You are definately on the right lines on the meaning of the poem. It's about how people go about there daily lives stuck in the same rountine, never changing - have a tendency to all be very simillar. I just thought it was rather like someone playing the same game other and other with dolls, never changing - all very simillar.

Thank you for the comments.

Dominic Rivron said...

Very creepy! I can almost imagine this poem set to zany music similar to Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody.

I wouldn't give it a footnote. Some of the best poems ever written are ambiguous. There's nowt wrong with ambiguity.