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Anvillan Jul 2020
I’m just a girl from LA.
I was swapped like a small puppy between owners, some that
treated me like a pet, some like just another possession..
No one thinks of beauty as a curse but it has haunted me all my life.
Beauty seems to be associated with the ****** and men and women
alike feel entitled to use you for their own satisfaction. That was a lesson I learned early. I also learned the advantages of agreeing.
I got married at 16 only to escape, I was used and abused. We divorced fortunately.
While working at the factory somebody took my picture  and said I could make a living as a model. I let them take many photos over the years, many I was ashamed of. Again I was used for other people’s gains.,
The only person who ever accept me as me was Joe D. I actually loved him and he loved and respected me.
I made many movies, the “Misfits being my latest with Clarke, my hero.
People were drawn to me,
Presidents, senator’s, attorneys general.... not for me but for their personal use and gratification. They introduced me to drugs That make the day to day pain go away. I get no pleasure from what they demand of me, but the drugs make it bearable. He is coming tonight and I look forward to being detached from reality for a short time. I know I’ll be me again in the morning but the brief escape tonite is a blessing. More later...



We all know there was no later for Marylin. If she had lived and wrote a poem here’s what I think she would have wrote...

My life was an act, I never got to play myself.
I played the part out of necessity so often that I forgot who I was. A life of not being you is a life without the soul you were born with.
I search for me but am always obstructed by those saying who I should be. I yearn for the day that Marylin can be Norma Jean. I’d love to meet her, maybe tomorrow...
A guess at Marylin dairy and final poem...
Anvillan Jul 2020
Were you speaking to me?
Did someone say something?
Oh, it was you, how are you?
What? I didn’t understand...

Is he smiling or grimacing?
I can’t tell by his eyes.
The mask moves with muffled sound.
Is his mouth smiling or his teeth gritted?

Before masks we always knew!
We knew our place and we placed
others like pieces on a chess board.
Kings, Queens, pawns, all had a role.

Now, we deal with the unknown.
We are certain by half, but half is hidden.
The tells we count on are obscured
by masks of necessity.

Dealing with the uncertainty causes
us to question ourselves.
If he isn’t who I thought he was,
who does he think I am?

Now I wonder who I am? Is anyone
the same behind a mask. Does the
mask alter who we are or just the
perception of ourselves.

Can certainty be so cosmetic as to be
mortally wounded by a mask of necessity.
Can a finite plague have such an impact on
a soul and spirit thought to be infinite.
Strangers??
Anvillan Jun 2020
Years have passed, been high, been low
been drifting though the memories past.
I find my thoughts stuck on you.
Why, cause you were pure, apart from
the kind of life I was living and beyond
what I deserved.
I’d like to explain, but how do you
explain stupid, foolish and irresponsible
to a perfect soul who never experienced
those aberrations. How could you ever
understand and forgive me? I was so
intimidated by your sweetness and beauty
I had to run Martha. After all these years
and, for me, boatloads of tears,
I had to reach out. Words fail me like they
did so many years ago. I’m glad you are
happy and life is good for you. If you
remember, one fond memory is
all I could ask for...  Tom.
Kinda like Harry Chapin’s Taxi
Anvillan Jun 2020
Night is falling,
darkness closes in,
reality fades and
isolation takes hold.
The walls close in,
my senses explode.
I’m squeezed by the vice
of the unknown and bound by
the ghost of uncertainty.
I can not breathe, my lungs
collapse, I gasp. My heart
is reduced to the tick
of a clock. Each tick
a countdown toward
impending doom. My
soul begs the darkness
for mercy and release
from these bonds. A specter
appears. A shape without
eyes, without a mouth yet
speaks these words,
“ this is death, in isolation
or for real, take you pick”.
Sincerely, covid19.
Living with covid19
Anvillan Jun 2020
Oh, would that the words
from this page could rise
up and paint me the picture
they portray.

Then, whisk me away
and surround me  with
their promise of love
and safety.

Words are my friends,
keeper of my dreams.
They walk with me in the
realm of fantasy.

They support me on
stormy seas. They give
me hope that someday,
someday will come.

Take me from this world
of daily sameness into
your world of wonder
and challenge.

People look but don’t see,
people hear but don’t listen
In your world, all things are possible.
I can be me.
Hope for youth...
Anvillan May 2020
Fireflies in the black night sky, the
eyes of a child wonder at the light show.
Eyes of wonder, collectors of opportunity.
Where did those eyes of wonder go?
Where did I lose that ability to
see opportunity before it is gone?
Eyes of a child see even in the dark.
Where are those eyes that could watch
opportunity unroll like film on a screen,
clear, imaginable, reachable and exploitable.
Why has daylight destroyed the blessings of
blackness. Why have the eyes of a child
become the the eyes of a spectator, an
observer, detached from opportunity,
helpless to connect. Why has daylight
destroyed the wonder of fireflies in
the night sky? Why has the ability to see clearly
destroyed the ability to see in the darkness?
Darkness defines us, daylight is
just an illusion for the senses.
Changing perceptions
Anvillan May 2020
Is this a poem, I don’t know?
It is a statement, it is a confession
it is an explanation of wonder,
of a realization of self,
of the concept of being,
of awakening in the morning
feeling that you are the universe,
that the universe is in you,
felt by you, controlled by you,
that nothing else exists but you,
and if it does exist, it is detached
and some how unknown to you..
It is a rare moment that is beyond
description, beyond words ability
to elucidate and can only be shared.
It is a feeling that exists only in infinity,
in that place beyond time that just is,
without limit or boundaries, a drifting
place, just drifting.
I can’t really illustrate the
moment for you. It’s an individual
realization beyond experience. You
will know it when it happens. It is
fleeting and you must grasp it.
It is the existence of the soul
and it’s place in infinity and the
enlightenment that you just,
“ are “.
Awareness of life
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