The Pressure of Being Plastic

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Stitched carefully together
Her words trickle slowly
In clandestine tribes of marked apprehension
Tiptoeing shards
Split from glass figurines
Cracked by screams
Tracked at higher frequencies
Than dreams sold here

Corner vendors spin her love
Or some simile of
At sales pitch speeds
Drinking cellophane and regurgitating demographics
If I dance to the jerk of these marionette strings
Will I be pretty, like plastic?
Are our measures so drastic?

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11 responses to “The Pressure of Being Plastic

  1. VW ( can I please call you that for short?) VW I really think this is an amazing poem. I feel you are looking at from a young girls point of view . I the plastic and cellophane references I get the feeling that you are looking through a young persons eyes at the “Plastic” world of television celebrities and and magazine model trash that we bombarded with. I do not know anything about you and I do not wish to intrude but you have caught the essence so well! Brilliant peace of writing thanks for sharing! XX

    • You may call me whatever you like, my friend. I answer to many identities. Thank you for your keen observations and for taking the time to share your insights! Perhaps you do know something about me… šŸ™‚

  2. hello again , above I say ” I feel you are looking at from a young girls point of view” I meant to say ” I feel you are looking at the subject from a young persons point of view .” then I almost repeat myself ..sorry I am up early and not fully awake yet. Have a good day!! yawn!! :o) XXX

  3. Suvh an amazing thought. It is all so interesting what a woman would do to look beautiful yet beauty is in the eye of the beholder and it seems as though not all beholders like plastic. Lol it is amazing what modern technology has put purvey thoughts and bodies through. I guess it isn’t as drastic as shoving feet in to small shoes or wearing a corset everyday to slim our waste and ribs.
    I guess the world has always been intrigued by the idea of fitting into a mold. šŸ™‚

    • Perhaps it is as drastic, in a way. The size of feet or the numbers on a waist line are really only symptoms of the true root of our idea of beauty, which lies in the mind. I think, if one wishes to have small feet, small waist, large bust, or other physical attributes, and one can achieve those things, I admire their expression of themselves in that way. My thoughts bend more toward the inner workings of why they might choose such things. The beauty will always be much more enhanced on the figure of one who sees their own worth and does not equate it simply to accessories or enhancements. Once that point has been reached, modifications can perhaps be done more purely and with a deeper realization of the art of our bodies and who we are. Beauty has never been in the body, but, as you say, in the eye of the beholder–or I might even say in the mind of the beholder. I strive to define beauty based on an inner appreciation rather than a cultural pressure. Thank you for your kind words šŸ™‚

  4. Marionette’s seem to be so willing to be cut and carved to suit the modern idea of beauty in some eyes. Shame how they’re led to believe that age and beauty are not one and the same… TO see a totally blank canvas makes me shudder… Good and thought provoking poem VW. xPenx

  5. Thank you so much for posting I do not have sufficient words to compliment your wonderful poems tonight, so off to sleep as I let your comforting poetry lull me to unconsciousness. Dreamland awaits. ā¤

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