This Poem was Submitted By: Debbie L Fischer On Date: 2004-01-25 18:29:58 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Porcelain Dolls

I remember that Christmas The toys you brought for the grandchildren My brothers excitement at opening the erector sets and Lincoln Logs My sister, mommy pretending as she walked her life-sized doll and I with the last minute dime store purchase of a plastic tea set that sat unplayed with on the shelf Thanking you politely as I'd been taught hiding the hurt Later hearing harsh words berating her for the glaringly apparent favoritism that which was not accepted or tolerated but scars remained You love my mother now far different from years past and I, who favor her line my glass-fronted curio with porcelain dolls collected through the years and I love them

Copyright © January 2004 Debbie L Fischer

This Poem was Critiqued By: Jennifer j Hill On Date: 2004-02-03 10:20:22
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.88000
Hi Deb, It seems from your poem that ammends have been made, but favoritism is such an ugly, hurtful thing. This poem should serve as a reminder that we probably all need. Now that I have grandchildren, I'm always very careful to not play that game. I like the way you name this offering "Porcelain Dolls" and then bring the subject back to the title at the end. The title peaks the readers interest and the poem keeps us wondering how this will fit in. The structure of tercets and lack of punctuation causes this to flow nicely as the story unfolds. You take the reader back to childhood, when our Grandparents would visit. A time of excitement for all, and I'm sure to watch your siblings with their expensive gifts was quite hurtfull. The nostalgic flavor added by reminding us of Lincoln Logs, erector sets and Life sized dolls is great. I enjoy your phrasing of "mommy pretending", as well. Isn't strange how times have changed. Back then, we were taught to always be polite, no matter what? Now road rage is common. Another thing I like about this piece is in stanza 9, you talk about how differently your Grandfather loves your Mom. Isn't it interesting how relationships between parents and children develop and grow over the years? I find this facinating and I'm glad you noted it. Thanks for sharing this piece of your past with us. We greatly benefit from your reminder through your experience. Blessings, Jennfier

This Poem was Critiqued By: Sherri L Smith On Date: 2004-02-01 21:51:00
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.34615
Dear Debbie, I can totally identify with this poem. My grandmother who I lived with off an on till about 6th grade, favored my brother, then when we were living with my mother, then it was my other brother that was favored. Then when my two little sisters came along, well I was the babysitter by then. It brings back all the hurt that I felt and resentment. And guess what? I collect porcelin dolls too! and toys! and clothes and shoes and all of things that I was denied as a child. I also crave hugs and closeness to my children and grandchildren. Sounds like our childhoods were a lot alike. Thanks for sharing this poem. I think I have begun to deal with all that, then Wham! I am hit upside the head with it again. That's ok, I am stronger for it. Sherri
This Poem was Critiqued By: Joanne Duval Morgan On Date: 2004-01-30 17:53:58
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.68421
Hi Debbie, I think this poem speaks volumns, it contains the residule effect of the hurt, in that, this many years past, it's remains attached to memories. Justified, Mom wasn't to pick out for the other what she knew they would adore, to just providethat expedient gift from the dime store. Very emotionally written Debbie, it contains all the sensations of lingering hurt, for you to sit and compose this poem I think indicates how really soully you were effect. Damn life, and lousy memories, not being the oldest or youngest I felt excluded sometimes, to see Prinecc favors showed on my Sister, and favortism heaped on my older Bother, it was then I think that the ID of me was formed, the principle I would never do that to anyone, so in a way a heck of a life lesson, never to beforgetton. Could be your expression so well written, simple, with linguists anyone would understand. As such it rates highly. Hurt as a child even unintentional stays with the child through their life, thus molding the Character, to be stron and compassionate, or to secrete the hurt all these years. You made the poem work, and it carries all the sensations in the world, so it throughly enjoyable. Thanks for sharing....Best regards, Jo Mo
This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2004-01-26 21:16:55
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.54717
Wow Poet what a heart grabbing story of Christmas past and one little girls feelings of lost love......aren't mommies supposed to love us all the same? I used to think so but over the years I too learnt was good that you were able to buy yourself those porcelain dolls.....I have a few and other dolls that I pick up at yard sales and do over....bath, shampoo, new clothes and they too are loved.....and mommie sleeps in my spare room and I tell her each night that I love her and each night she says not a word.....I feel sadness for someone who is not able to say I love you nor show it during the day.....but again, you have your dolls......and you love have a mother perhaps still and you know in your heart though it has been broken more then once you have a love there just for her. Okay, enough from me....nice structure, words brought forth images and emotions along with feelings as one read on.......a Christmas to you still have the tea set? I had a doll once that I opened on Christmas Eve and mother took away, put her in her bottom drawer and never allowed me to touch her again. When my daughter was born mother took the doll and gave it to daughter combed the hair, took off the white dress and made a mess of the doll but at that point I did not care........yet for the same reasons I was not allowed to have this beautiful baby doll......go figure. Thanks for posting and sharing, thanks for the memories though I might want to strangle mother come morning light...hehehe....but we know I won' safe and God Bless, Claire
This Poem was Critiqued By: Regis L Chapman On Date: 2004-01-26 17:11:22
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.19643
Whew! Nicely done. Distance is felt, the years yawn across the poem, and the emotion- and lack thereof- are also felt. This is the tough side of Christmas as a child. Comparisons seem to be the currency of childhood (for those with siblings), and those who don't understand that are doomed to produce this sort of hurt in others. I am glad for this poem, as my own confessional had just been posted recently. I have no criticism for this poem. It's simple and direct and works well exactly as it is. Thanks, REEG!
This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2004-01-26 11:34:53
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.41667
Hi Debbie, I can feel the pathos in this poem as it vibrates in every line. The pain of a child is so absolute and not easily forgotten. I was raised an only child so I never felt the sting of favoritisim and in raising children we never let it happen. I like the format you used to write this piece...short stazas and terse lines which makes takes the reader from one hurtful line to the other. The porcelian dolls are a symbol of both your pain and acceptance. What else can a child do but accept what she cannot change and move on but sadly the pain, even tho it abates, will never be gone. This is beautifully written and I know it must have been hard to share these feelings...but doing so is just another step in healing. Blessings...Marilyn
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mick Fraser On Date: 2004-01-25 22:50:10
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.09091
Hi Debbie; I am always happy to read work that appears to come from the personal experiences of the author. It is obvious that this would have had a real impact on you. However, it is also obvious to me that despite the hurt that you suffered, that you have overcome by far (I hope) the pain by finding some closure with the comfort of your porcelain dolls. You are truly brave for sharing this. The poem is wonderful. Mick
This Poem was Critiqued By: Rachel F. Spinoza On Date: 2004-01-25 21:13:26
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 8.66667
Nicly constructed poem. It really is sad that the girls got only silly breakable things and baby dolls while the boys got the creative toys. Things are changing though -- few enlightened parents make those kinds of distinctions these days.Great ironic ending!! Best Rachel
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