"marylin" poems
The assassins hit in 63
And Camelot was gone,
Inspiration vanished
And the darkness sang it’s song.
*Vietnam escalated
Brezhnev’s Russia loomed,
Africa was eviscerated
And Red China entombed.
*Floating on a long white cloud
The Kiwis were replete
With abundant British markets
For their butter, wool and meat.
*The Europeans went ****
And Britain lost it’s way
When the Beatles and the Rolling Stones
Monopolized their day.
*Man landed on the moon
And raised the Yankee flag
And they shot Mahatma Ghandi
For making good things out of bad.
*The Berlin Wall dividing,
The Cold War tense and spare,
ICBM’s threaten silently
In their silos of despair.
*Bob Menzies ruled Australia
As an amassing of his loot
And his White Australia Policy
Condemned him as a brute.
*Found naked on her tousled bed,
Blonde hair across her face,
Marylin Monroe is dead
The world’s a darker place.
*In the Age of Aquarius
Our children lost their youth,
LSD and smoking ***
And Afro’s were the proof.
*Lots of leg in miniskirts,
High bouffant’s in the hair,
Screaming teeny boppers
Rock with Elvis on “the Air”.
*Giant, Rawhide, Ponderosa,
Martin Luther King,
Kaftans and a cheese fondue,
Abortion is a sin!
It’s a sixties kaleidoscope,
A panoramic skim
Of an era of wonderment
Which you and I lived in.
Marshalg
@the Gate
Mangere Bridge
20th January 2009
Oct 23, 2009
Oct 23, 2009 at 2:25 PM UTC
Woke up in a motel
Don't know where I was
How on earth I got here
What it is I'd done
Made it to the lobby
Breakfast being served
The look they gave me had no need
For the spoken word
Eggs and bacon filled my plate
And orange juice on the side
Stares and whispers overheard
"Sorry, did you say bride?!"
That's when she sat down next to me
My new blushing bride
I hollered to the waitress
Could I also get a side of cyanide
Was I just hung over
My mind was so clouded
What was I thinking
She moved closer and crowded
"My darling lovey
You seem confused"
Her soft sweet lips
I had to refuse
With teeth of green and looks that screamed
Of farm animals on the loose
Forget the fairy tale wedding
I think I married Mother Goose
Not quite and old hag
But no beauty was near
Or maybe that's the liquor speaking
I just need to get out of here
She huffed and puffed
When I would not embrace
But oh my heavens
I couldn't bear her face
She spoke about our future
And the children we would spawn
All i could think, if we had triplets
We could name them Wrong and Wrong and Wrong
I couldn't handle the thought
I had to get far far away
But "what happened last night.."
Was all I could say
So we went to the little white chapel
And found Elvis...of all places
He sent us to Marylin Monroe
Who handles all of his divorce cases
My darling bride was rather upset
But I couldn't handle being her groom
So I did what any man would
And rid myself of my gap toothed bride and her broom
Next time I wake up in a notel motel
And don't know who or where I am
I'll pack my bags right away
And call the quickest cab
Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 11:40 AM UTC
*The wanderers lips chapped thirsty
peeled and parched in deserts inhuman
of love bereft,sought hard but unfound!
a search on legs last,romance unfazed,
for that mirage shimmering hazily afar
of her eyes, face and lips softly smiling.
so dear once,long abandoned in betrayal.
a heartfull of love unrelinquished still,
throbbing unforgotten in existence skeletal
pausing for breaths last, a hoping soul numb,
now sighting that luscious red neon cherry
the glossy round O of Marylin the pretty
a wan smile just, of a small solace strange
lit up on a face entreating so desperate.
paving happily the deaths way at last
blown in the wind final,an abstract kiss.*
Feb 9, 2013
Feb 9, 2013 at 4:42 AM UTC
Ask me about *****
at the Pitcher & Piano
a woman sits angular
snow swirls in her face
the Tundra, a riot, an Izba*
or a Romanov's Faberge egg
Lean into this moment
the curve of it's being
like a sail into the wind
or the Bering Strait neatly
amongst Icebergs
Canada
Marylin
The Niagara Falls
a Geologist's contentment
a backpack & a tent
ink& a compass
Omai* resplendent
* Izba - a country hut ( russian)
* Omai - Mai, the second pacific Islander to ever visit Britain in the late 1700ds who became popular in London's high society
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 3:53 PM UTC
.*the joke reign being: ****** doing the jazz hands worth of clapping... like smith 'n' butch doing a: manicure with jellyfish attempting to usurp paralysis... like a ****** faking jazz hands... mind you: canned laughter always left an eerie impression on me... and i didn't even have to laugh... but a ****** over-exemplifying "her" hands? well... they're not exactly petite, geisha curiosities, worth the fragility of spring to be made comparison of!*
when a ****** over-exfoliates
the use of her hands....
i once mentioned:
the most ****** aspect
of a woman
are her hands...
so when a ****** over-exfoliated
"her" use of the hands...
never a "missing" ****
in war,
whether man, woman,
or... animal....
size...
the hands:
do not lie...
whatever lie there ever
was to be ingested...
like: words were food...
to distinguish them:
a vowel is pure fat,
and a consonant was:
slow burn sugar,
i.e. a carbohydrate...
but i can be made acute,
aware,
how a ****** is
the antithesis
of both heterosexual
& homosexual love...
it is neither...
it's an added curiosity...
a niqab-take
on ***
i sometimes
wonder...
jerking off...
am i looking
at the cleft of
a buttocks of a woman,
or the cleck of a woman's
*******
they... seem so well
pair... and undifferentiable...
i can't seem to tell
the difference!
back in the day
when marylin mason
was
all gag and hardly
any gay...
but you can tell
a ****** from a woman...
however many hormone
blockers...
bones do not lie...
hands...
the size of hands...
like some joke goes:
and if i removed one
tier of my ribs from my body,
i too, wouldn't
have to leave the house
for a *******
my same misery
story... concerning the selling
& buying of vinyl...
hands though...
i'm trying to bind myself
to either braille or
sign...
in deciphering
the ***********
like it's a ****** scenario
to not read this as:
just shy of Ypres.
Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 10:56 PM UTC
Me too,
Me as well.
No,
There wasn't enough of
That last time,
There wasn't nearly
Enough.
Yes, yes last
Time should be like
This time but better;
Always better Albert,
Always better.
Either I stay or
She goes,
Those are my
Demands, if
You do not
Agree, fare ye'
WELL.
How many hours
Do you sleep at
Night?
That will be four
Sixty five and
Zero cents;
No tip
Of course.
When I dream I
Dream of nothing but
What I cannot share
Here, right now, presently.
We are going great,
Thank you for asking
Mom and grandpa.
I'm almost home, but
If I'm late
Put on the movie and
I'll catch up.
OK?
ok.
Since we've moved in,
We've been falling more and
More out love.
We've just moved in and
We've never been more
In love with one another.
Tell me how you feel
After a couple days
After the move,
Alright?
Dinner at 8,
Drinks at 7?
I no longer talk
To my sister since
That Thanksgiving she
Got really drunk and
Screamed at Jenny.
What do you do
When you can't
Forgive your family for
Being bigger idiots then
The rest of the world?
Forgive them.
Yeah.
Forgive them I guess.
The rest of the whole world?
She makes her look
Older then dirt or dusty
Bookshelves filled with
Greek mystery novels.
Who is that handsome
Platter of ******** over there?
Ten drinks for
the Norman's of
The world!
Ten drinks
For the
World.
And if I were
To say yes,
Where would we go?
And if I were
To say no to your
Yes,
Where would I go next?
Not enough egg
Whites
Here, here and
There, but
Even is balance and
Pure balance is
Impossible,
But enough of,
Enough of
Enough.
Friends, partners, enemies and
Heartbreaks.
Up is a word
I start with
Too often.
Seeing oneself in
The mirror too often
Can make you
Reflect too frequently.
Could you imagine
Burning in bed from
A cigarette?
How ironic
Is that?
Is that a
General Surgeons warning?
How do you get a
General Surgeons license?
How general is
General?
Centipedes carry their
Weight evenly; when drunk,
They do not.
Faults vacate the premises
Only when one
Starts to lie and lie
Well.
Death...
Well death,
Death is like life
Seen through the
Negative of a photo;
Beautiful but not as
Beautiful as when viewed with
Color.
Marylin Monroes lips;
Those things should
Always be in
Red.
Fresh off the fruit stand:
Either we've made it,
Or we have a
Long way
To go.
Nov 2, 2011
Nov 2, 2011 at 6:32 PM UTC
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...
Jul 30, 2020
Jul 30, 2020 at 7:39 AM UTC
Smooth like the
Seams of Marylin's
***** lines caked
In chocolate frosting that
Had been sitting in the
Sun but was cooled
By the wind coming
From the north but the
Locals swore it was from
The East
Smooth like just laid
Concrete smelling of
Sweet porcelain dolls
And sleep which comes
Only when you try to
Stay awake because you
Know how real
Death truly is
Guns take their names and
Sear them into the minds of
Men who grip them though
They know not who they shoot
As they sleep in some chicken coop
We were people once and
Our men were once men
We've changed for money is
Here and we are naked not
Dancing but obvious in all
Our greed and in all of our
Fear and degradation
At times I
Am ashamed to
Be human and to
Be man and to be
Here and to be
Everywhere and
To live within
This place I
Must call my
Land
Fighting while
Striving to
Understand the
Crying and
Prying for
A tying of
Men who are men
But do not wish
To start all over
Again
Crowns will
Melt
Wills will
Stagger
Men hold the
Dagger
Lo' the
Trigger
Is forever in
Decision
Oct 31, 2011
Oct 31, 2011 at 6:35 PM UTC
Britney Spears
The queen of conformity
Heterosexuality
The ****** of ******
Excuse my French I beg
But she is the angel
O death
For many girl starve
Or murderthem selves because of her
She is my most hate celebrity
And people argon poor marylin manson
Tics.
Mar 1, 2021
Mar 1, 2021 at 11:34 AM UTC
My efforts are strong and faithful.
I await for my spotlight.
To shine upon me and end the skeptic's rant.
On how "I cannot do everything" and often ignore my "delightful"
Ways to entertain and to brighten "their ways out of the darkness of failure"
to the bright light of success' care?!"
What is the key to open up a door to be an equal part of "their life?"
Instead of a loner in a "non-conformer's" quiet realm?
While Working His Tools, from his inventive ideas...
as so too, the name and his works......
Made into babbling loonie created poppycock..
The "Normal's" tagged just "humor" of the likes of Leonardo Da-vinchi
As I bang my creations, part by part, together to a miracle....
as this "hero of mine" inspires me through my dark and present unseen "creativity."
Must it always be an art form as defined by those "Eccentric Critiques" so well known for what is to be, "Amazing?!"
Wasn't it my other hero, "Andy Warhol," who placed Soda Cans in piles to reveal his defining vision of our beloved "Marylin Monroe?!"
Yes!!!
It wasn't until "out of the ashes of the end of his existence" that finally defined him the right as a new "form" of "art" that has now,justly been defined, as a "Must-show?!"
My Uniqueness is a way of life.
I'm no "Copy-Cat."
Inside my work shop, don't I need a view or a peer from "someone?!"
To inwardly show to the world...
a glass of wine, " a toast to my life's creations," to be brought to the surface from this "lake" of "Creators?!"
I, as the newer and redefining "special recipe art vat?!"
"YES!"
Producing a bold and new flavor to the palates of the taste of the "Art's Highest."
I should think of my Creative "Galleries" to be "worthy of a footstep and a light shine.."
on my "Newest of the Unique Human Artistic Existence?!"
A Toast to that Up-Coming Future!
As my other inspirational heroes once proclaimed, in his artistic words, "To Be...."
"Or not to be...That is The Question!"
As I gaze at his,and also his other brethren of an "almost the never was," art spirit's "legends.... "
their after-life speaks to me of spirited and powerfully lit advice and placement....
My future and hard work... "Staying Rebellious and Unique"
I shall have guaranteed my legend's entry...
Into the galleries of "a newer history..."
Their advice I truly live by -" I am not only what I Chose to be..."
"I choose to be 'me,' 'truly','creatively, 'and 'worthy' of becoming the 'truer' and 'more uniquely' defined 'artistic' legend
Who is simply named as...
"free!"
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 12:06 AM UTC
I gambled my chances like in the Crystal Casino
Awaiting to become the new Marylin Monroe
Brimming with luxury, glamour and frills
A necropolis of slain dreams,
Beverly Hills
💎💎💎💎💎💎💎
Oct 25, 2020
Oct 25, 2020 at 5:02 AM UTC
He shivered. She had a wart on her just too long nose, a budding zit on her chin. You could just see it waiting to pop. Hair gray and charcoal, smeared in a greasy way.
Happily, he saw his mom.
The Marylin Monroe-mask was a frightening joke.
May 20, 2019
May 20, 2019 at 9:52 AM UTC