Masked (Poetry)
Masked
Unamused,
like a daughter that receives
a Barbie doll on her sweet sixteenth.
My face wears a pretentious mask,
your ego contained in a balloon -
in my hands lies the power
to burst it or let it deflate.
Upon release,
your strings tie around my wrist.
Frustration builds up
like rain water in a well;
an overflowing rage - uncontainable.
The mask falls off,
uncovers:
a smile forcibly sewn onto mouth.
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IMAGES! ROAR YAY AWESOME!
I loved the first stanza SO much! I read it three times before I continued with the poem, and I was ravenous to see how it applied to the "mask."
Damn. That is a fucking image. I love it. I see the disdain, the scorn, the scoff, the hair toss dismissal, the anger filled eyes scanning the room to see who was laughing to claim this monstrous gift.
I'll admit; I'm confused by the middle stanzas. I know that there is a balloon image with the popping, deflating, the string tied around wrists, but I didn't know what it was referring to. What is the "mask of pretentiousness? "
The final stanza seemed to ground me again against the first stanza (and I enjoyed it).
Is that like whoever gave the bad gift explained it and the speaker is smiling to not be rude?
I liked the image of a forced smile, "sewn onto a mouth." Gastly image, but visceral; enjoyable to see. I can feel the distaste for smiling like that. Like being surrounded by cannibals and smiling so as to not be eaten while they devour your friends (too gruesome?).
Thank you for your comment once again! The origin of the poem is that we were bored during a lecture, so I was writing this poem during that said lecture. I see that through editing the second stanza's mask doesn't fit with the rest of the second stanza. Our hands (or mine) hold the power - we try to not look bored or too distracted - it could make the lecturer angry (burst) or crush their ego (balloon deflated).
Then, instead I release the balloon from my hands; but the strings (you know how some balloons are attached to strings), the strings tie around my wrist. Kind of like, I cannot just get rid of you, clearly. Then, the frustration builds up, but behind it another layer; pretending to be engaged or listening, while in reality I am writing down this poem hahaha. Although, this kind of pretending is forced- there is not much alternative.
thank you for sharing. Maybe you know what I'm going to respond with, maybe not.
Next poem I suggest you make these images you just wrote in the comment here a part of the poem. Deliberate obfuscation makes readers bored and confused. We want them to get smacked in the face with our words and feel so physically what we're describing they can't help but be there with the speaker.
your explanation gave me this feeling better than your poem did.
That first stanza was just spectacular though. I love it. It lingers still in my brain making me smile at the gym while I was running this morning. God. I laugh and cringe over it in equal measure.
Yes, definitely. I do understand that, and it's not that I don't know that, it's that sometimes I fail! A lot of growth comes from experimentation and learning from mistakes, so I will definitely keep your comments in mind. That's impressive how my first stanza had that much of an effect. I actually thought it was weak when I wrote it. I have realised recently that my writing tends to be too shortened - and that may lose some of what I meant to say, accidentally - or that I true to use imagery too abstractly. I'll try to think outside my head and see what the reader would understand.
Yeah, I kind of know that feeling. Even when a mask falls down we really really try. But what for...
Endless layers of masks - hiding forever our true selves.
Masks within masks... there's a kind of horror in this poem. Innocent images (doll, balloon, water in a well) taken and used in a way that seems to defile them... The masks are meant to reassure others I think, and probably also ourselves, as something to hide behind... but they just make everything creepy! And the final revelation is of this reality: of the horror of falsehood "a smile forcibly sewn onto mouth."
The whole piece exudes a kind of claustrophobic existential horror.
Oh and I love "Frustration builds up
like rain water in a well;
an overflowing rage - uncontainable."
Creepy and brilliant :)
Thank you! It means a lot coming from you! Yeah, as a great poet once said, "The ending is everything! EVERYTHING!"
Ahahahahahahaha ROTFL 🤣🤣🤣YES!
Yes he did 😊
Great poem!The last stanza was phenomenal. You'd expect to get a sort of solace but instead there is more pain. It felt so real, as if you'd actually see someone having its lips literally sewn.