Description: I want to start this by saying that yes, this poem is about rape. Please don't let that stop you from reading and commenting, and telling me what you truly think of it in terms of poetry as opposed to just commenting on the topic.
I also want to make it perfectly clear that I have NEVER been raped, and have therefore never experienced this firsthand.
Finally, I have no idea where the inspriation for this poem came from. When I wrote it, it kind of came to me, and just had to be written down on paper. After that, they kind of kept coming. I want you to understand that the topic and the final product of this (and all of the others that I ended up writing on the same topic) scare me shitless. I wish I knew where the so-called inspriation came from, but I don't.
Despite all of that, when I reread this from a purely analytical state of mind, and I look at the poetry and not the topic, I have to say that I truly like how this poem turned out. So please, take the time to tell me what you think.
She twists her fist
Around the wooden X
Dance for me she hears him call
Dance you whore
When she doesnít move
Vengeance is his
Yanking her X, all of her control
Forbidding her to disobey
Daring her to try
Unwilling feet begin to move
Steadily increasing in speed
Tango, waltz; all he has to do is say the word
and she is forced to obey
She tries to stop
But like the dancing shoes, she has no choice
Forcing her to wait until he says Ė
Her feet stop
But he isnít done
He yanks her up
And pushes her down
Always the bully
Still it gets worse
He laughs at her as sheís down on the ground
Weakly she nods
Too damn bad
He yanks at her pants
Pulling off all of the tiny tatters
of black fabric he forced her to wear
Youíre not that innocent
And he pulls them off
Whimpering does you no good
It just turns him on, gets him high on your fear
Euphoria beyond his beliefs
Giving him thoughts to masturbate to for years to come
He pulls off her black shirt
that did nothing to conceal her
Watching him swear as the shirt gets caught in the strings
He pulls out a knife to cut the shirt off
Miss the shirt, and slice the strings
End this fucked up life
He doesnít miss
And she tries to swear Ė Fuck
Her mouth doesnít move
The bastard controls her
Controls everything she does
She resigns herself to her fate
Such a disgusting word
And yet she canít help herself
She withdraws within herself
Iím not here
Iím not here
Let this all end
let this be over
Iím not here
But she is there
She feels what he is doing to her body
Thrusting, hurting, harming
Her shell provides no safety
Saves none of her sanity
She closes her eyes
It doesnít work
She opens her mouth, whimpers
Whimpers again as she feels him grow harder
She realizes that he doesnít even need to tie her down
The strings that make her his puppet are enough
Stopping her from crying out for help
He overpowers her
Continuing to enjoy the pain
that he knows he caused
She wants to yell at him
Scream at him for the pain heís caused
But the stench of him, his actions, are too strong
Much too harsh
The silken ropes that bind her to the X
Continue to leave her captive to his ministrations
No matter how much she squirms
or tries to escape
Making her no better than a mannequin
A fucked up, twisted plastic doll
for him to use and abuse
Without her consent
Tattoo her face
Spit at her feet
Never will she receive control
while she suffers her bonds
Remaining an elegant, trussed up doll
No matter what happens
That the choice was never hers
This poem is dark but it is so factual. Sometimes we are in certain places and spirits talk to us and we don't know it. Someone could have experienced that from a life before and that is how the inspiration came forward to write the poem. I had written a poem one time about a young intern dying in a facility where I worked. I never showed anyone the poem. I will post it on this sight and allow it to be seen first hand. It was as if I could here the girl speaking to me and I was working the graveyard shift. There was no one in the building but me. I love your work. I am going to put you down for a stalk. You have a new fan in me.
First I had difficulty separating your write from the comments you furnished as insight on my "Luci's Ladder" piece. The two are contradictory if you regard the form, line length, rhythm and vocabulary selection of 'Mannequin'?!
This seems sporadic prose in the guise of poetry, a meandering journey that never reaches it's destination. A serious edit to reduce redundancy and unnecessary portions is in order. The write itself and the introduction to it, both are overly lengthy and never actually gets to the object of your description.
The title seems a good choice given the level of involvement of the participant.
First of all ... I am so glad that this was inspired by something other than the real scenario. nevertheless, you have managed to paint a very vivid picture which though horrific in its content is also very impressive. I can understand why you scared yourself once you had finished writing it! This ability that you have to empathise, may well help you to write on all manner of topics... and write with great depth of feeling.I am sure you will be able to help some victims to come to terms with their utterly ghastly experience. Thanks for being brave enough to post.
Ok, you wanted me to elaborate. It would take ages to go through it step by step, so I will just show you how I would edit it. Part of the melodrama is that you repeat yourself too much; this is what overdoes things. If I take something out it is because I don't think you need it. Ok, here goes -
'She twists her fist Around the wooden X Dance for me he calls Dance you whore When she doesnít move Yanking her X, her control Forbidding her to disobey Daring her to try
Feet begin to move Twisting, shuffling, Tango, waltz; all he has to do is say the word
She tries to stop But like the dancing shoes, she has no choice until he says Ė Stop She falls But he isnít done
He yanks her up And pushes her down Laughs at her as sheís on the ground Had enough? She nods Too damn bad
He yanks at her pants, Pulling off the tatters of black he forced on her White underwear? Youíre not that innocent And pulls them off
Whimpering just turns him on, gets him high on your fear
He pulls off her shirt it did nothing to conceal her A knife to cut it off Miss the shirt, slice the strings Free me Stab me End this [censored]ed up life
He doesnít miss She tries to say Ė [censored] Her mouth wonít move
Iím not here Iím not here Let this all end Iím not here
But she is there, feels thrusting, hurting, harming Her shell no safe haven
She closes her eyes Opens her mouth, whimpers cries again as he grows harder
Sees he doesnít even need to tie her down
She wants to yell at him Scream at him for the pain But silk ropes hold her captive to his ministrations No matter how much she squirms No better than a mannequin His twisted plastic doll
Tattoo her face Spit at her feet Never to receive control this elegant, trussed up doll
Well, this isÖ vivid. You've got a very strong sense of conflict in here, & you've clearly got a flair for strong imagery.
I think you maybe overstate itÖ with such a violent action, you do not need to hammer home your disgust. Sometimes bold statements really work for a poem, but I think that in general, poetic skill makes things implicit, rather than explicit. Yes, he is raping her, it is a terrible thing; we know this. Focus on the conflict itself, rather than using the poem as a platform for you to stand on and shout; I think that composure is important even when you're writing about somehing that makes you burningly angry or disgusted. That said, you need to keep the anger in there; the anger is strong. Been reading quite a lot of angry poetry lately, from the First World WarÖ Wilfred Owen's poem 'Dulce et Decorum Est' is a good example of anger powerfully expressed ('Dulce et Decorum Est, Pro Patria Mori' is Latin, meaning 'it is sweet and great to die for your country'). Doesn't really relate to writing about rape, except in the anger; it strikes me that this too is a kind of poem of protest, and that's what made me think of it. Anyway, you can read 'Dulce et Decorum Est' here, if you're interested: http://www.iwvpa.net/owenw/.
I think you've dealt with the subject quite well, actually; was reading a magazine article today by a girl who was raped when she was 12, describing her experience, and her feelings were very similar to what you describe.
Well it's clear to see who won that challenge(lucky). This is the one of the best poems i've read in awhile it deserves an award you truley wooped my ass in the "The not First person" poem I guess i'll try harder but all in all it was good contest.This poem is terriffic the excellent word play, the way you described was just like reading it out of a book or it was a personal exp. even though you said that this has never happend to you...but it's kinda hard to beleive that, i'm not calling you a liar or anything but you make it sound so real and thats a good thing. Let me tell you that this is going on my fav's :). Tell me whenever you wanna have another contest k. 1 love
I must say that this is a wonderful poem. Yes, i admit, it is long but overall, worth reading. i enjoyed it very much although i kinda forced myself to read it and i don't really like when no one comments on the poem especially if the idea is soooo good. Not everyone can write that though unless they really had the motivation to do so.
To be honest, i really think that you either saw this piece in a movie or heard about it or even just thought of what it would be like if you were raped.
Some of the things you have written is very descriptive and tells a story, then you tell her thoughts and go back to the story. it's good that you did it that way but it kinda portrays another structure but oh well, i still like it.
I think the first stanza should of been an overall image of what she thinks. It would of made a powerful beginning. You started with a story, it good and original, i liked it, but it didn't really kick me off my feet to keep going. At times i paused and wondered if i should read it all out. Just a suggestion, when you write a piece as long as this, start of as a suspense and undress the poem step by step. By the time you reach the ending, the reader has become so amazed that he would ask for an encore as long as this...
Just a suggestion though. But i honestly liked it. You imagined something that is very hard to put yourself into and i congradulate you for that.