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jennifer ann Dec 2014
you were so beautiful, and miserable.
powerful, and vulnerable. remarkable, incredible.
you will be remembered for ages as the
gorgeous blonde with stars in her eyes,
a voice so soft and sweet when she verbalized,
the woman who seemed to ooze with confidence
and beauty, with everything she would do or say,
the woman that everyone wanted to be in the 60s, and  still
do to this very day.

you wrote beautiful poetry,
you were so much more than what the eye could see
or the dumb blondes you played in movies, or on tv,
or the minds of small minded people.
you're a timeless beauty,
you're an inspiration to me.


without a doubt,
you were beautiful,and remarkable
inside and out.
a poem i wrote for marilyn monroe
melina padron Nov 2014
JFK
she said she’d wait forever
so she took the pills and
chased them down with fine wine,
picked up the phone
and waited till the end
for you to pick up the line.

was it selfish?
was it romantic?
was it kind?

she was a ******* come to life,
she would have been such a prize.
a hand on the curve of her hip-
you couldn’t handle it.

there were
grainy photos of you both,
some fancy motel
maybe by the name of
the shangri-la.

there are moments you can see
just how deep her sadness stretched
inside of her,
just how deep her need stretched
inside of her,
for you.

there are state of the unions
adresses and inaugural china.
long lasting feasts.
she might as well have just been
the lady hiding in the cake,
the lady singing you to sleep.
everybody’s *******
could’ve been a reality
for you.

she said she’d wait forever
and you probably passed it off as histrionics.
and maybe you couldn’t live
with that sort of guilt.

she said she’d wait forever
so she did.
she picked up the phone,
pills and fine wine.
waited for you in this world
and ready to wait until the end of time.
Rohit Rohan Jul 2014
Ms. Monroe -
I had painted her on my wall
In that room
In that time
That was once mine
Like herself
And is now gone..
She is still there though
Beneath the layers,
Maybe.

Painted over
Blind to the common eye
But if you look closely
Her traces linger
He outlines distinct
And her curls ever-flowing
Even the mole
Still there
Under layers
Of paint
And various other things
Becoming a layer,
Maybe
But she's still there

Etched once upon a time,
Now fogged by their layers
But I still see her
More fortunately,
Still feel her
There
On that wall
In the minds
Where she shall always be..
I had painted a mural of Marylin Monroe on my wall in MICA during my final year there. It became a symbol of the room and largely of my presence in the place. Her flowing curls and her neat features caught everyon's eye.
After I left, as is customary, the administration painted over the walls to prim the rooms up for the new students to come.

However.. I can still close my eyes and see her beaming down on me.. I still feel, she's still there..

— The End —