[stylist] Jackie's special things prompt

Mon Aug 3 14:41:40 UTC 2015

Hi Barbara,
This poem stayed with me after I read it last night - I kept thinking of it 
during the night and again this morning. I think it is because it is a world 
that I am not at all aware of, in my own childhood.   It is a plaintive 
cry - as each new quatrain begins with a  sing-song refrain, a  kind of 
feeling about the "dolls."  Dolls are not at all a part of my childhood 
experience but they sure were in my sister's life.  My sister and I do not 
even come from the same planet, I once told her.

>From the poem's beginning there is a tension between loving and holding onto 
the dolls, and a feeling of guilt or impending punishment for loving the 
dolls.  Loneliness and insecurity are overcome by clinging to the little 
dolls.  I have a feeling of sadness as I read this.  I think you did a 
really good job of expressing your innermost thoughts in this poem and it is 
something many people can relate to.   For me, it would never have been a 
doll as I never liked dolls - I ran barefoot, climbed trees, planted seeds 
for flowers all around the house and made roads fro my trucks in my father's 
gardens, and played games with the neighborhood kids, even was in "cat 
fights" at times with them.  Reading was my solace as well.  Every evening 
our mother read us stories before we went to bed - and I did that with my 
household of children later on in life, as well. Summertime included  trips 
to the public library with my mother and new books to read on the front 
porch glider.

This poem made me ask myself what it was that I held dearest as a child, and 
what I found my personal happiness  - and I would say it was in nature.  I 
was always off on little excursions by myself - swimming in the creek, ice 
skating on the creek in winter, looking for snakes and frogs, and riding my 
bicycle for miles and miles, and walking down railroad tracks for miles and 
putting coins on the tracks and waiting for the trains to come by and smash 
them. .  In my home we ran free and it was my "normal" to be alone and out 
exploring  wherever I wanted to be. I think I had a glorious childhood, knew 
I was loved, and felt very secure in my young life.  The poet Nikki Giovanni 
wrote a fabulous poem about her childhood  *The Kidnap Poem) and she speaks 
of her childhood and how when you become famous, they never talk about how 
happy you were.
(Here is the link to this wonderful poem if you would like to read it: 
http://www.math.buffalo.edu/~sww/poetry/giovanni_nikki.html#kidnap .
Lynda

-----Original Message----- 
From: Barbara HAMMEL via stylist
Sent: Monday, August 03, 2015 8:39 AM
To: Writers' Division Mailing List
Cc: Barbara HAMMEL
Subject: Re: [stylist] Jackie's special things prompt

I, too, was a HUGE fan of reading.
Barbara

Sent from my iPhone

> On Aug 2, 2015, at 23:19, Bridgit Kuenning-Pollpeter via stylist 
> <stylist at nfbnet.org> wrote:
>
> Barbara,
>
> Thanks for sharing. I feel the loneliness in this poem, and that resonates
> with me. I was not a huge doll girl, but I constantly sought something to
> make me feel less alone. Reading is what took me away from life and my
> loneliness as a child, but I think most can understand what the doll
> represents here. Thanks.
>
> Bridgit
>
> -----Original Message-----
> From: stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Barbara
> HAMMEL via stylist
> Sent: Sunday, August 02, 2015 10:08 PM
> To: stylist <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> Cc: Barbara HAMMEL <poetlori8 at msn.com>
> Subject: [stylist] Jackie's special things prompt
>
>
>
> It's an old poem but I thought it fit this prompt.
>
>  MY DOLLS
>  by Barbara Hammel
>
> My dolls, my dolls, my precious dolls,
> I cling to them too tight.
> My pretty dolls, my special dolls,
> And I know it isn't right.
>
> But they did so much comfort me
> And ease my child-heart.
> Especially my baby-doll
> From which I could not part.
>
> My dolls, my dolls, my precious dolls,
> My love is much too great.
> The yearning to own more of them
> I cannot seem to sate.
>
> But dolls they were such friends to me
> In bygone days of yore,
> And I have _always loved them so
> And _always wanted more.
>
> My dolls, my dolls, my precious dolls,
> God does not wish to be
> Placed behind my love for them,
> And that is hard for me.
>
> For way back in those childhood years
> A very special doll
> Was all there was to cling to
> For a little girl, so small.
>
> My dolls, my dolls, my precious dolls,
> Too highly do I treasure,
> My pretty dolls, my special dolls,
> To buy one gives me pleasure.
>
> But God is much displeased with this--
> He knows their hold is strong--
> For I am storing earthly treasure
> Which Biblically is wrong.
>
> My dolls, my dolls, my precious dolls,
> I love them, this I know,
> But I must put them in their place
> And not value them so.
>
> But they were once the world to me,
> Yes, they were all I had,
> For they were always there for me
> When I was afraid or sad.
>
> My dolls, my dolls, my precious dolls,
> My pretty dolls, my special dolls,
> My little girl dolls, my little boy dolls, And--especially one--my baby
> dolls.
>
> I cling to them too tight, I know,
> But I can't seem to let them go.
> I do not _need them now, that's so,
> But there they are, lined row on row.
>
> My dolls, my dolls, my precious dolls,
> O, God, they can't compare.
> But You weren't tangible to the child
> And the dolls were always there.
>
> Help me use them as reminders
> Each time I touch a hand, a face,
> That You are always here beside me,
> All the time, in every place.
>
>
> Sent from my iPhone
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