The moon hangs in the night sky
Like a beacon for a child at bedtime
There's time to have bedtime stories read to you
There's time to recite prayers to You
She wanted to be that music box ballerina
If only daddy could have seen ya
Pirouetting and forgetting in moments of.....
Frozen prances and unfurling action
In the store front window, blink and continue
There's no time to stand still
When Fred Astaire wants to dance
No time to check makeup
When Cary Grant wants romance
In a Holden crush, or Cooper embrace
That is where Audrey Hepburn stands
i feel so stupid
i actually believed you loved me
i believed every lie
how could i know it wasn't true?
it all seemed so real
the smiles, the laughs
every time you were there for me
how much of it was fake?
i forget you're an actor
and you're really good at it too
you can easily play any role you're given
it makes sense you could pretend to love me
you have me on your strings
they're on my limbs
controlling my every move
holding on so tight
i can't break free
i'm like your puppet in a way
i do what you want me to do
i act how you want me to act
it's like i'm wearing a mask but
i'm hiding all your truths underneath it
i know you so well
better than you know
yet it's like i don't know you at all
i would've never expected this from you
i changed when i found out the lies
i've never been able to look at you the same
i question everything you say and do
but i didn't change to you
i stayed the same
pretended i didn't know
because i think you forget
i'm an actor too
The actor I knew
Mikael Elphick, a talented actor
I admired
he liked to read my poems and said they were like stories
and therefore, easy to read
He understood I was trying to find a space between
poetry and prose, that is why I dislike calling
what I write poetry, vignettes seem in order
Mikael was a kind man who liked that I was not
hanger faking friendship and being agreeable to his
political opinions, which I found eccentric
The last time I spoke to him was outside a café, he
was struggling to walk home, I gave him a lift
a reporter from the Sun newspaper sat in a tree
it might have been Pierce Morgan, as we know
has bullied his way on X
a few weeks later, Mickael was dead, killed by
his alcoholism
You applause the actor
Her harmonious tone
Her play of words
Her triumphs heard
But do you love the stage after the song
The leftover footprints from where it sang along
Atoning for every step that was missed
Retrieving the dust from her accomplishments
The dust from the skill she used to win
The dirt from the shoes that store talent within
She takes a bow and stifles her breath
For love won’t come if she shows weakness next
But no one applauds the stage after the show
For being there, for laying low
For setting a platform all but their own
The cleaners perceive them as one last chore
The light flicks off, and what is love?
The stage hadn’t known, from being alone
And it will never know, until the lights flick on
And the cleaner applauds it for all it has done
Let us take a road trip,
now off with bags and zip.
Snow covers the wide road,
no grass here to be mowed.
Cow riding the tractor,
is it a huge actor?
the thief is the best actor,
even outside the theater,
but in the show of life
he steals the spotlight !
Dramatic pause
Stage diminished
Alcohol influence
Living on the streets
Nickel and Dimes survival
Actor being once a striving Actor
Contract revoked
His final curtain pulled down
Had big dreams
Wanted to be in the movie streams
No Movie Star
No longer owns a car
Could have gone far
Inspiration being just a word
Closed door
Fallen to Alcohol
Stage presence forgotten.
a cure for the chill winter blues....jason momoa in
a loincloth
Born to perfom
In the camera's guide
To the peffect life
My short story continues with this insightful excerpt:
The One Actor That I Did Not Know
Most of my guests are corporate leads,
and my first was none other than, The Jackson Five.
I was one week new on the job, then--still 18--handled a few guests, as I was learning the ropes of the hotel's various department functions and their contribution to the hotel. Tom Hanks, bellhoping at age 20. As I'm keeping my jaw tightened, a kid about my age with a nice afro that is in style. "I'm Michael Jackson." Pleasantries were exchanged as my assistant dropped the room key, and as I maintained eye contact, "My assistant is briefly detained (to sway his watch from behind my back making hand gestures to the clerk), our bellhop there will take you and your luggage to your suite.
Raj Kapoor, A Bollywood immortal film star,
His movies had a deep impact on audience,
Nargis, was his favorite heroin,
I thought she was his wife.
There once was a man from Bombay,
Who danced in a silly and wild way.
With a wig on his head,
And a grin so widespread,
He made everyone laugh
He created a film industry dynasty,
Even now, his grandson and granddaughters dominate the film industry,
There was a myth, if your last name is not Kapoor,
You cannot become a heart throb film star.
I’m Mz Mortenson, if you please.
I dispensed with the charade
when I went to my grave.
Life can be tricky
if you’re pretty.
My life was a role,
I couldn’t always control.
How unaware the dumb bombshell seemed.
Still, I was labeled the obscene Norma Jeane.
in reel life’s small doses,
the role was emotionally corrosive,
merely etching away my fragile identity.
In real life it proved erotically explosive
destroying my privacy, serenity, and sanity.
I thrilled in some 29 films, I took a few pills,
was a plaything for mobsters and tabloid mills.
When I started a fling with the president,
did I have any idea what I was up against?
Some free advice - beware of counterintelligence.
Homicide, suicide - what does it matter
- which one is sadder?
I knew I’d always be there for you, sensuously beckoning,
at 24 frames per second, like an eternal flame - flickering.
.
.
Of course, Norma Jeane Mortenson’s stage name was Marylin Monroe
Written for the 'Lost Poetry from History Challenge' contest.
Where you write a poem in the voice of an historical figure.
16:00.06-17
Friendships, wordy scripts, cameras, microphones and venue blips. Call security, no need to be shirty, let's go again.. scene five, take thirty. Action. Cut. Time for tea. The bar is closed but coffee's free. The waiting patiently never ends. We chat we laugh. We're making friends. The brushes flash across my brow.. my shirt is steamed no creases now. As runners jog and sound men lean. I've learned my lines, we're quite a team.. with birthday Sue and sooty Dave.. the risks we take favour the brave. It's all been worth the sweat and tears, a hundred props of seventeen years. With actors, crew and faithful few. The final shots to rave review. A shout hooray and rapturous clap.
For Acting on Impulse.. it's a wrap x
An actor I knew
I saw him sitting alone in the dining room
of a small hotel, drinking brandy with coke
his handsome face was bloated, and he was
deep in his cups
I told him of the Humblebee story when
he played Schultz, and he chuckled
he was a man in agony drinking had
become relentless, whatever reasons
he drank, but the hurt didn't go away
he had lost his wife to cancer and thought
of killing himself, as a trained counselor
I knew better than to give advice
on how to stop drinking
His girlfriend came, had been in the bar
playing pool, a woman with a fake smile
was driving him home to his cottage
she, also when the actor was away looking
after the cottage
The last time I saw him, he was struggling to
walk up a hilly road, I drove to his home
again, he mentioned suicide.
I said, no, my friend, you have to live and
suffer as the rest of
that was the last time I saw the news
of his death saddened me
If I were an actor on the big screen
With the cameras on me in every scene
I'd race for NASCAR on any old day
Date a couple starlets along the way
I could be Rhett to Scarlett O'Hara
Maybe I'd co-star with Rooney Mara
I'd be Maverick streaking across the skies
Or start a fight with ten blueberry pies
I could rob some banks with Bonnie and Clyde
Hang with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
I might act like Steve Martin in the Jerk
Battle Klingons with Captain James T. Kirk
Sail today on a Spanish flotilla
Or run away from Kong and Godzilla
I'd rule Mr. Robinson's neighborhood
Anything's possible in Hollywood
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