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The Dead Dolls

She sat amongst her dollies

Hair all chopped and matted

their legs broken battered,

Biro on each painted face.

The fingers bitten off,

Spat out and thrown away.

Their toes all flat and mangled,

Their eyes poked closed and gone.

Each one no more a beauty,

Each one now dead and gone.


She did it as a child 

To each and every toy.

Her mummy used to smack her,

And say do it no more. 

She didn't like her changes,

She didn't like her mess

But now her mummy's gone,

Her toys all thrown away,

The bodies now are people,

She killed them one by one. 


Killersmurdermutilationdeathserial killersdoll maker

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Louise Hogg

Thu 15th Jun 2017 21:16

Robert I feel this is a stronger piece too. I would love to make this into a novel. Maybe one day...

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Robert Mann

Thu 15th Jun 2017 18:33

Louise - before I read the other comments, I got that the protagonist went from killing dolls to actual murder later in life due to a less than happy childhood. Don't they say that psychopaths show no degree of empathy and often practice on small animals (or dolls) before stepping up their murderous intent? I suppose the question that arises from this piece is 'What does it take to make a murderer/psychopath?' I really enjoyed this one.

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Louise Hogg

Fri 27th Jan 2017 10:49

Colin, I love your interpretation.

I meant the first stanza to represent the murderer sat amongst her victims. The broken Dolls a metaphor for her multiple human victims.
The second verse offers an explanation, childhood experience, feeling inadequate to a parent and replicating damaged toys from childhood, just as she herself was damaged.

My daughter is studying for her degree and we have had so much discusssion on Barthes 'Death of the Author'. I think poetry more than anything shows how our own interpretation rather than author's intent is what makes it important.

Thanks so much for your feedback.

<Deleted User> (13762)

Thu 26th Jan 2017 17:13

I like this Louise but like Hazel a little confused as to my reaction. I have Sid from Toy Story in my head and wonder 'what if?' for his character. He reappears in TS3 as a garbage collector and here's an interesting theory:

does this have anything to do with your poem? Maybe not. But after that first verse it seems your character had a choice of direction in life, which you as the director chose. Seems to me that despite what we did as a child, maybe it's what comes after that steers the course of our further actions. Owt could 'appen as they say somewhere up north.

I think also the first verse reads smoother than the second. I also think this could be extended in many different directions. There is a definite Tim Burton / Gothic edge, for me anyways. I'm also getting a whiff of Virgin Suicides. I best stop, your dead dollies might give me nightmares and I'm only just getting over the bear that hugged me this morning!

thanks for posting Louise and apologies for my waffles served tonight with blueberries and whipped cream.

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Hazel ettridge

Thu 26th Jan 2017 07:26

These images touch something in me. Not sure how to respond really. Too early in the morning maybe.

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