The mannequins are alive!
Their eyes follow me.
They taunt me.
I’ll use the fireplace poker.
They’ll never follow me again.
And I’ll be free.
No!
Its arm is still moving!
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THE MANNEQUINS
Tag Archives: alive
ALIVE
Source:menpale
I am smoke.
I am air.
Watch me fly.
Through the air.
I hold my breath.
Head held high.
You are alive.
And so am I.
THE WORDS
The words come alive
And leap from the page
Right into our minds.
Become one with our dreams.
Interwine with our nightmares.
Alive with our thoughts.
THE OCEAN
Salty.
Cold.
Mesmerizing.
Tantalizing.
Alive.
A force of nature.
There’s nothing more to say.
LOST IN THE RAIN
Lost in the rain.
Beaten down.
Alone.
Drifting.
Tired.
Wet.
Ready to give up.
On life.
On the world.
Curled up in a ball.
Ready for my last breath.
Then the unexpected happens.
The sun comes out.
The birds begin to chirp.
A wet breeze hits my face.
I look up into the sun.
I don’t feel alone anymore.
I feel alive.
I’m happy I waited.
Waited for time to pass.
For time to heal old wounds.
I’m ready to face the day.
BENEATH THE SURFACE
Hot flames.
Fires burning deep.
Beneath the surface.
Rumbling.
Splitting rocks.
Seeking an exit.
The earth is alive.
Ready to explode.
Did you have any doubts?
Were you a skeptic?
Seeing is believing.
Sizzle.
Pop.
THROW YOUR DIRT
You can bury me,
Throw dirt on me
And walk away.
But I will survive.
I will dig my way free.
The human spirit cannot
be extinguished.
It will continue to shine
despite evil’s attempts
to destroy it.
Throw dirt on me
And walk away.
But I will survive.
I will dig my way free.
The human spirit cannot
be extinguished.
It will continue to shine
despite evil’s attempts
to destroy it.
Throw your dirt.
I will be back.
THE BOOK
THE BOOK
Please take a closer look.
Something’s wrong with this book.
The words have come alive,
Breaking free to survive.
Words need to be loved and shared
And not forced alone and scared.
Let the stories come out and play.
They will serve to brighten your day.
PUPPET
areyou-stillawake
Puppet Master 2 (1991)
I wake from a deep sleep.
I look across the room.
To a shelf high up.
A puppet sits there.
Its head pops up.
The head spins around.
It can’t be real.
A wooden puppet can’t be alive.
Then it speaks.
In a deep voice.
“Time to play,” it says.
I run to the door.
No!
It’s standing before me.
Taller than me.
Arms reaching for me.
A gleam in its black eyes.
It can’t be.
But it is.
It’s alive.
THE BOOK
Please take a closer look.
Something’s wrong with this book.
The words have come alive.
Breaking free to survive.
They are bursting forth with pride.
Smoke is pouring out from inside.
Words need to be loved and shared
And not forced alone and scared.
Let the stories come out and play.
They will serve to brighten your day.
