Email Poem

Your IP Address: 18.224.153.49
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem

(A call for the lights to dim as a single spotlight illuminates the legend Judy Garland, who is center stage. She wears a faded housecoat as her beautiful, brandy brown eyes hold a lifetime of stories. She speaks directly to the audience, her voice a low smoky a whisper)

Judy: 

Good evening, my dear darlings; where do I start? Oh, yes, for this is my story of how they christened me Judy Garland which is a name that echoed through the corridors of fame and fortune. But before the luminous marquees and adoring crowds showed up, I was, (Laughing) simply just Frances, one of those Gumm sister who was bathed in the unforgiving and harsh glare of showbiz. 

My mama, god bless her little sequined heart, taught me early on : "In this world of illusions, steel is the only armor a girl needs." Yet, little did I know, my life's armor would prove much too heavy to bear this burden. Mom's constant uppers and downers, which is the real wicked witch of the almighty west. 

(A fleeting smile dances on her lips before fading)

Somehow Hollywood embraced me fully, this fragile, overweight starlet with that angelic voice that could and would thaw even the coldest of hearts. "Oz," writers once proclaimed with jingles in their pockets, was a sanctuary where troubles melted like morning dew and lemon drops and fear. But while my girl Dorothy found her way back to Kansas, somehow I just sadly remained, ensnared in this prison, this gingham prison of my own sad and depressed making. 

Yes, unbelievably, still singing of rainbows, while storms raged deep within. I cried and pleaded to what I believe to be God with no answers from the wizard, so sadly I sought refuge in those darn life-stealing pills. Maybe I can blame that I heard the siren call of peace that was deeply disguised as salvation. It was a concoction for disaster and calamity of highs and lows. 

(Sighs) 

It was just a false, fleeting reprieve from the relentless demands of stardom.

My Vincente, oh my dear Vincente, I listened to your promises for they were as sweet as MGM’s fattening confections. I was a fool not realizing that it was just another dream sewn from gossamer threads, always ready to unravel with each passing mindless day. My dear Liza, my precious Liza, I will always cherish that you were a beacon of hope among all the fallout and wreckage of so many promised but broken dreams. 

Yet, I realize that even love's tender embrace could not staunch the scarring wounds carved by constant betrayal, disillusionment, and disappointment. Oh, my god, many husbands came and went, just like a revolving door. Leaving behind countless shattered vows and empty bottles littering the floor and all over the bedside table. I always realized that they controlled the strings and "The show must go on."  But sometimes, my darlings, the curtain begs for respite, reflection, revelation. Oh, there are too many times that the cuts ran deep, my throat, my wrists, my drugs, my…

(Her voice trembles)

Fortunes and pots of gold kept slipping through my bony fingers just like grains of sand in the desert wind. All meaningless! I had palatial estates along with gleaming top-of-the-line automobiles, and yet all faded into oblivion, obscurity with the final setting sun. And yet, once more, I found myself singing for my supper, for wasn’t I the girl with the golden voice. 

Now, aged beyond her years. The relentless tabloids reveled each nuance of my descent, "Garland's Tragic Fall" emblazoned across the damming headlines. But know this, my loves: the descent began long before the ink dried on their tawdry tales. There are and will be many unspoken tendencies of the value of life…

(A solitary tear cascades down her cheek)

They say I departed too soon, a shooting star extinguished before its time. Perhaps they are right. Yet somewhere among all this tragedy… there lies a final lesson in this melancholy refrain of life. 

For even the most brilliant and brightest lights there is a casting of the darkest shadows. Hold fast to your dreams, your voice, even as the world fades to silence. And above all else, cherish yourself, for you are the most precious gift of all. 

(A faint smile graces her lips)

Somewhere beyond the rainbow, down the yellow brick road, perhaps there exists peace. A place where a young girl with pigtails sings without a care in the world. That is where I long to be, if only for a fleeting moment. But for now, as the spotlight dims, I bid you adieu, my darlings, wherever you may roam. 

(The spotlight slowly fades overhead, leaving our beautiful Judy enveloped in…. utter darkness. A haunting but fitting melody lingers in the air.)


"I don’t always have to sing a song. There is something besides ‘The Man That Got Away’ or ‘Over the Rainbow’ or ‘The Trolley Song.’ There’s a woman. There are three children. There’s me! There’s a lot of life going here." ~ Judy Garland.

Judy Garland, 47, Dies in London; 'Wizard of Oz' Star Had Career Marked by Tragedy. – NYT: June 23, 1969
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required