Human

Have I told you my insides are made of plastic?

My blood runs with a creamy cherry taste, 

My veins were compounded from a beautiful church window

Dressed up with a staind glass mantra. 

My bones are made of chalk 

The type of chalk that your teacher used in pre-school

The same type I was allergic to.  

Who knew? 

I think I must of watered down my condition

Either that or I made a bad prediction 

Because it turns out my brain is made of faulty electrical wires. 

I have blocks of wood for muscles

And bottle caps for eyes. 

My ears are made from the hinges of old doors, 

My nose was modelled from the wood of old floors, 

And my fingernails are dressed up with pretty metal. 

Tonight I just wan't to feel like myself again, 

Tonight my heart is a fumbling sub-wolfer 

Riddled with tiny pieces of distortion. 

Author's Note

Reviews

[JohnnyMagrinho]

Michelangelos's David & his Pietà.
A child's snowman at yuletide.
Edward Scissorhands.
The Tinman.
Any in-store mannequin.
Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?

Descartes was right when he challenged the fact the people he saw were who they claimed to be, just because that's the way things are. And how they should be. Or so we are told.

If you stabbed any statue in any South American Catholic church will it cry? Or bleed?

How dissimilar are we to those immortalised in stone?

I like how you go from evoking one emotion to the other, and your use of varying language/references keeps the poem alive and mutating. It doesn't remain stagnant as it is not given the chance.

This style is evident in all of your poetry and a lot of it comes across as a rap/freestyle shouting.

It's nice how you address the reader on occasion and then leave him to his own devices. It's sort of like an old man talking to his grandson before forgetting he was even ever there. I like the ending of the poem. It's a rather wonderful analagy of the heart to describe it like you have done.

Riddled with tiny pieces of distortion. That's almost a perfection description for anybody who has felt the way you are trying to explain.

I'll read this again and if I get anything else from it I'll let you know. It's a nice piece, though.

[sienikeha]

beauty.
ps. love the music - usually it's on the annoying side when music flares up -- dilutes the poem. in this case, it works. brings the words closer to the ear.

fdbk: subwoofer

[Shmoke-Sifted Heftlander]

I have a feeling that might have been intentional

[sienikeha]

ah! yes, reread.

[Shmoke-Sifted Heftlander]

it's hard to tell if it was a double-meaning or a subconscious slip of the tongue...either way it was interesting...hell even if it was an error, he should probly keep it cause it's cool...

[sienikeha]

that's the beautiful thing about poetry. about words. unique interpretations.. the same line/word/stanza/piece .. can be read an infinite # of ways. ...

[Shmoke-Sifted Heftlander]

most def..words are numbers, images, thoughts, feelings, memories, experiences, imagination, a spectrum of emotions, etc...to infinity and beyond

[Tate Morgan]

Well that explains the fingernails on the cha;lk board .I hope you are well i see the differences in influence in your works and that of the American youth.i find it quite interesting. An interesting work here kind of like Pinocchio screaming I'm a real boy!"

[Dayran]

We certainly are all these things. My skin is made of silica but my relations with others and the love I experience has changed it into tissue that yearns to touch another and to relate to issues. Such is the creator of us all who began with sticks and stones and ultimately created man. The difference may be in the way we grow with experience. A well crafted piece.

[afra]

awesome ......my favorite lines were
My bones are made of chalk
The type of chalk that your teacher used in pre-school
The same type I was allergic to.
...good job

[nigrum homonculus]

why did i get a really weird mental image of pinnochio? well done with this though. you're imagination is crazy. need to get this collab up an running man!