in an already crowded
canvas, and sure-
cornered life
Why do I put a Calvin
(drew, colored, cut out)
whistling
on top of my impressionist
lake watercolor
that my mother told me
needed fine-tuning?
I never made a small impression
I was always a little too loud
I combined colors and sounds
violently
I look like Annie Hall on Monday,
Frida Kahlo on Tuesday,
A hungover Greta Garbo on Wednesday,
Jack Black's twin-sister on Thursday,
a menopausal mess of me on Friday,
and the weekend is simply
a free-for-all
Why can't I love
peacefully?
The whales call their calves
in clicks, and know it better
than I do, up here
We had;
Interlude and
of Mice and men.
A star is born and
Gone with the wind.
A child bride and
The Wizard of Oz.
Cocaine Fiends and
Sweeney Todd.
The Jaguar and
The gay divorcee.
The Marx brothers
And the Maserati.
79 Park Ave and
Mannequin.
The Porsche and
Erroll Flynn.
The Rolls Royce and
Curly top.
John Wayne and
King Porter stomp.
The Packard and
Hilo Hawaii.
Gary Cooper and
The Bugatti.
Frankenstein and
The Alfa Romeo
The Fiat and
Abbott and Costello.
The BMW and
Eternal call.
The Lone Ranger and
All creatures great
and small.
The Bentley and
Agent Carter.
The Green hornet
And Days of Honor.
An Indian summer
And The Duesenberg.
Greta Garbo and
The Thorn Birds.
Turbo1904?
“Life would be so wonderful if we only knew what to do with it. ”
Quote _Greta Garbo
Greta Garbo,
born poor- she was considered a weirdo;
but Hollywood said- her acting skill we can tweet,
because she has beauty ... even though she has huge feet!
_____________________
December 16, 2022
Poetry/Clerihew/Dreamt of Being a Star
Copyright Protected, ID 12-1509-188-16
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Premiere contest, A Poetry Marathon, Mile 23
sponsor, Mark Toney, Judged 01/04/2023
"Everyone of us live our life just once,
if we are honest, to live once is enough."
Greta Garbo, 1938
so live in tranquility for it is the place
of imagination and reflection
be you, be mellow, be calm
be gentle, be respectful
be pleasant
listen
find harmony
contemplate the infinite
the intricate and spiritual
keep talking and life will be nothing
keep quiet and life will be full in excess
_________________________
October 13, 2022
Poetry/Free Verse/Living Just Once
Copyright Protected, ID 10-1494-230-13
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Premiere contest, A Brian Strand Premiere Choice
sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged 10/16/2022
A girl in the crowd takes a selfie.
Her tam o’shanter sparkles
because of the fireworks going off
in the background, and because it has glitter.
At the gates of Moscow
weary French troops run away
hands over their ears, as Tchaikovsky
fires his righteous cannons.
The girl with the cell
is as pretty as her friend beside her,
but her friend outshines the tam o’shanter
as if it were just an ordinary beret.
She has sapphires in her eyebrows.
Kids in earshot of adults
‘wow’ or mouth age-appropriate obscenities.
The limp body of a teenage messiah
is elbowed and pushed around by his disciples.
Several rows back, a woman is laughing
as she cranes her neck skyward;
from the chin up, she looks like Greta Garbo,
only she is short and fat.
Rockets fly like fan-dancing ostriches.
The truncated 1812 Overture burps to a close.
My lens can’t capture the woman
or the girl, or her friend
who now all shine like diamonds.
I can’t fit all of this into 12 mega pixels.
The night eventually stops throwing missiles
at the moon,
the girls, and women fizz out,
the kids continue to sizzle
until they are led away by dark-eyed dreams.
A girl in the crowd takes a selfie.
Her tam o’shanter sparkles
because of the fireworks going off
in the background.
At the gates of Moscow
Tchaikovsky runs away
hands over his ears.
The girl with the cell
is as pretty as her friend beside her,
but her friend outshines the tam o’shanter
as if it were just an ordinary beret.
She has sapphires in her eyebrows.
Kids in earshot of adults
‘wow’ or mouth age-appropriate obscenities.
The limp body of a teenage messiah
is elbowed and pushed around by his disciples.
Several rows back, a woman is laughing
as she cranes her neck skyward.
From the chin up, she looks like Greta Garbo,
only she is short and fat.
Rockets fly like fan-dancing ostriches.
The truncated 1812 Overture burps to a close.
My lens can’t capture the woman
or the girl, or her friend
who now shines like a diamond.
I can’t fit all of this into 12 mega pixels.
The night stops throwing cannonballs
at 1 a.m.
suave Baron Felix
world-famous ballerina-
Garbo. . . Barrymore
Copyright © 2018 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
First published 2018 in Hollywood Haiku via wattpad.com
I'll never meet Cronkite,
Monroe, Garbo, Einstein, Epstein,
Bogart, Newman,Truman, but
wish I knew what they knew,
known?
wished I'd known,
tenses and I pretend I know them
but
I haven't got a clue as if you
the last of yesterday
know or knew them too.
All the famous folk
they're gone into that sepia
we see in faded photographs,
no one here today to match them,
I
watch them play on Pathe,
inflight movies on the Cathay
line
even after all this time
they still shine bright
for me
Give me a whisky
With a ginger ale on the side
And don’t be stingy
What great lines
For a great actor
Like Greta Garbo
Her first screen words spoken
But in the end
She just wanted to be left alone.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Greta Garbo
by R.e. Taylor
I know you wish to be anonymous
To never be seen again
But the world will not allow that to happen
I know it may be presumptuous of me to say
At one time, you were a beauty beyond compare
A talent that anyone else would only envy
You may have lost your looks and your talent
And you locked yourself away because of it
But Miss Garbo you are still hiding in there
Just look at your reflection and you will see her
And I know that she still loves her fans
So, just once before you die
Come out into the open
Leave your fears behind
And just tell us the good bye you never told us
We may cry but not for our loss
We will cry because we will know you still care
And that will be what we will remember about you
© 2017 Shadowlight Publishing
I sat listening intently to the tune the band played
The words the singer sang were the nicest I had heard
Talked about hidden love, about the heartache and disaster
Then I saw him a dashing young man, my heart's beating faster
With down cast eyes I peer through dark lashes
Can see the guy I fancy, dare I do a few ankle flashes
This was so decadent in my day and age
Girls sat demurely smiling, never showing the urge
Saw his eyes wander to where my ankles lay bare
his flushing face showing that he did care.
I saw him slowly walk across the carpeted floor
I quickly rose from my chair went through the door
In the garden he found me, my nose in a rose
Please be careful he said, bees also love those
I smiled, dimples showing gathered my skirt
Tripped gaily down the path, giggling like a flirt
He touches my hand holding it close to his heart
Was when I woke up, with one heck of a start.
I had dreamed I was Garbo in a great film
My leading guy, was the dashing Errol Flynn.
Penned July 14 2015
Valentino , Errol Flynn such stars of the silver screen
Garbo , Bacall and Davis movie stars that all have been
Grace Kelly had such beauty Audrey Hepburn was the Queen
Bogart ,Fonda and and Brando got hearts racing in every scene
Pacino , Redford and Poitier ,James Stewart and Steve McQueen
Elizabeth Taylor ,Sophia Loren ,original divas unforeseen
Generations passed and so do they ,no longer to make me dream
But the stars that gave us so much grace will always be on my screen
I stand in front of the mirror
Trying to look a dish
Puckering up the lips
Practicing for a kiss
I half close my eyes
For the Greta Garbo look
I don’t look a bit like
the siren in a book
Looks more like I have myopia
Squinting like a fool
How can I look seductive
What's the golden rule
Lips all red and shiny
Rehearsals come to an end
Had plenty of practice
Courtesy of a friend
I stand here by the mistletoe
With what I hope is a seductive face
A wet juicy kiss smeared my mouth
Yuck what an utter waste.
Penned on the 18th December 2013
Fred Astaire was king of tap
Biggie Smalls was huge in rap
Carson (Johnny)ruled TV
Dylan’s songs are poetry
Elvis made the girls all swoon
Frank Sinatra loved to croon
Greta Garbo hid from sight
Hitchcock gave us all a fright
Isaac Hayes’ voice dips low
Johnny Depp steals every show
Kenny G can blow that sax
Larry David can’t relax
Michael Jackson changed his face
Norah Jones embodies grace
Oscar Wilde wrote books and plays
Peter Falk had piercing gaze
Quincy Jones finds music stars
Raitt (That's Bonnie) rocks guitars
Sally Field lights up the screen
Tony Kushner nails each scene
Uma Thurman makes men drool
Viggo’s talented and cool
William Shatner’s still around
Xin Xin Xiong in films is found
Yoko Ono married John
Zach Braff’s big on Amazon
All this talent, A to Z
Keeps us entertained, agree?
for Cyndi MacMillan's ABC Couplet contest
I wish I were a baggage to abandon.
I wish I were a hold-all to un-hold,
With no handle for some bloke to put his hand on
Or to plant a snotty kiss that leaves me cold …
I wish I were a parcel, square and string-tied,
In stout brown paper, not to be un-wrapped;
Inscribed in huge red letters, “DON’T PEEP INSIDE!
Till I’m dead and gone, and cannot be sent back …”
It might be rather fun to be left luggage;
To fashion most exquisite, boring days
With false teeth and umbrellas in West Dulwich,
Or to gather dust in Walton-on-the-Naze …
I think I’d like to be a Printed Packet,
Forgotten on some sorting-office shelf,
With nobody to notice I can’t hack it
And no-one else to hassle … Just myself …
I want to pass my private rites of passage
Simply wrapped up in myself, and “off the ‘phone.”
I really DO wish you would get the message …
Just like Garbo, dear, “I VANT TO BE ALONE!”
( I found the first line of this poem as a typing exercise
on a second-hand computer.
It just tickled my fancy! )
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