Broken Dolls
Broken Dolls
Broken dolls are meant to be along
A walk over the loveless moon
The loveless moon shines to bright
Broken dolls blinded by the light
Desperately alone wondering the night
Broken dolls from broken homes
Build broken homes of their own
Cracked walls bring rays of loveless light
Broken dolls carry broken hearts
Through the graveyard on those loveless nights
Broken toys for broken boys
Brings broken dreams and empty joy
Broken dolls with a broken face
Within his eyes he sees the place
Where loveless moons light voided space
Broken dolls belong in the trash
Finally freed from the loveless grasp
The loveless moon shows brand new cracks
Loveless moons illuminate pain filled lakes
Broken dolls leaving tear stained paths, to ashamed to look back
We are meant to walk alone
No more broken children left at home
The loveless nights, the loveless moon
Guaranteeing to break real soon
Within the mist; broken dolls will not be missed
Poem taking from “Yin”
By: Tim Lundmark
January 9, 2011 - Posted by The Random Thinker | Blog, Blogging, Coping, Depression, Ethics, Grief, Journal, Life, Mental Health, Mental Illness, Pain, Personal, Philosophy, Poems, Poetry, Poetry Books, Published Author, Sadness, Sorrow | Blog, Blogging, Broken Dolls, Coping, Depression, From The Book "Yin" by Tim Lundmark, Grief, Journal, Life, Mental Illness, Personal, Poems, Poetry, Sadness, Sorrow
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The Window Into My Mind
Welcome to “The Life and Mind of No One Special,” a community where philosophers, theologians, profound thinkers, poetry lovers, and everyone in-between, can come together for the melding of minds. In trying to find the proper words to describe this blog only two words come to mind “personal” and “random.” My site is a personal invitation inside the inner workings of my mind, and a window into my very being. I write about my personal struggles with my mental illness. I talk about my personal journey to find answers to questions which have no answers, such as my search to find meaning between nothingness and faith. I have no clear agenda when I sit down to write my posts. There is no preparation or thought I put into it. I simply sit back grab a random thought from the millions of endless racing thoughts shooting around in my head. I just quickly grab one and go with it. There is no rhyme or reason to this site, it is simply chaotic yet somehow exists in perfect order. This is my personal journey to find understanding in a meaningless universe.
“The key to wisdom is this – constant and frequent questioning, for by doubting we are led to question and by questioning we arrive at the truth.”
Peter Abelard
About me: I am a published author, and founder of The Bucket List Foundation. Thru the art of writing I have found a way to express the spectrum of my emotions. I enjoy the feeling of pen to paper and allowing the feelings I have inside to pour out, good, bad or in-between. I pride myself on the ability to write both dark and light material. My strength and passion are in poetry, although a dying breed, I still feel as though it is the purest way to truly share inner emotions of the human psyche. I bring the pain of personal struggles in life to my dark writing, each of my dark books are full of private pains endured. The poems are twisted and ominous and will take your mind to a place that will haunt your dreams. My lighter side finds the love and enjoyment I have experienced in my life. The poems are sensual and tender. The soft words will fill your heart with fond nostalgia of times you have loved another and inspire you to tell the ones you care for just how important they are.
The child in me comes out in what I hope to be the most successful of my endeavors, the Dylan Thomas series. I feel jubilant and youthful when I carve out this style of writing. I giggle at the words I see on the paper, although silly, it also encompasses the rituals and experience that life has brought me as a father. When I write based off current interactions with my children and wife I find a sense of wistfulness that can only truly be captured in the mind of a child.
In the end my goal is to use the written word to inspire another. To know that somewhere in the world someone is reading one of my pieces and has a reaction, whether it is sadness, love, joy, or a laugh. Knowing my words have provoked a sensation is the greatest reward you can ever have as a writer.
“Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia.”
~ E. L. Doctorow
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Comments
what?
Tim, my idea for your poem is to organize it a bit better and tweak the syllabication. For example, I was thinking line 3, 4, 18, and 19 might fit well together. You could group the ideas in groups of 4 phrases. It seems like you have 3 or 4 main ideas. 1. broken dolls/moon 2. broken dolls for broken or alone child 3. no hope/pain. After you pour out a poem, look back for the main ideas that you are trying to focus on and organize the thoughts and tweak the wording or grouping of words. You could even draw sort of a picture map to get your thoughts organized. Just a thought.
The only spelling errors would be in line 3-too
Line5-wandering
Thank you. I will need to go back and read the poem and see about grouping differently. The ortiginal poem is broken up into I think six parts, but when I try to double space it actually skips four lines and ends up looking bad.
Tim, this is very nicely written! Just wanted to let you know I put you on my The Versatile Blogger Award list. If you wish to accept it, just see the related blog post and follow the same steps that I did. Blessings, Terri