She wore pink
she wore white
she wore diamonds, pearls, jewelry in her head
she smiled, she had red lips all the time
her hair was always platinum blond.
She had pins in her hats
she had millions of shoes
she had more fur coats than store to put them in
she had perfumes
she had, silk sheets
pillows so soft, you never needed a sleeping pill
she had it all, a mirror that seemed as big as the sky
and so much make-up that one could have spend
one good month
in her room and never tired of looking at all the bottles of cream, perfume,
hair brushes, and much more
Her drawers, were full of silky stuff, and it was so easy to mess it all up
Then Miss Monroe, looked as if one more stroke of mascara, running down her
cheeks instead of staying on her eyelash, until she said, oh well it is not a
mascara day.
Then her sunglasses, her scarf, her keys, her raincoat, her brown one, please
that is the one I want.
She wanted brown, she wanted brown,
she wanted to be buried under ground
So much kisses, so much love she had
but to herself she was nothing but a clown
So the little thing crawling around would get the giggles and the biggest hugs
but then the tears would start to roll, and for a wish from God, what is it
that is making these eyes cry.
The thing I admire is how hard she tried,
with husbands, with make-up.
In that last finished film with Arthur
and the horses, she was good.
She looked like a corpse, but
she was good,
her eyes still had that blue fire,
no matter how late.
Did she do that neurotic finger flick
Natasha taught her that I've read about,
dawdle in terror at-- what? Gable?
She looks so secure in
his big tan hands.
The camera, her steady beau?
Maybe under those Nevada stars, the
mountains that never end, she felt
small, she felt alone.
"We're all dying," she says to Eli Wallach,
words Arthur stuffed in her tired mouth,
but god, of all things to do to
the woman you used to love.
The film works at
smelling like a hard death,
mustangs snorting in the heat,
wet with prop sweat.
I admire the way she worked at staying around,
at creating somebody, considering how little
a pound of Norma Jean was worth
on the open market,
Marilyn at any price.
By Deasia Hairston
A woman with heart and soul, but felt that her image was taking control.
A woman so beautiful, she could glow in the dark and had eyes that shown like spark.
A woman who was sexual and needed love and care, but she always asked, "Will anyone be there?"
A woman who was sweet and kind and her name always runs throughout people's minds.
That woman is Marilyn Monroe.
Sexy, beautiful, talented, smart, trustworthy, and polite.
She will always be known for giving a person courage and delight.
Marilyn is a legend to this very day, may her spirit come and stay.
Marilyn, Marilyn, Marilyn!
Miss Marilyn
by Shayne Michael
Dazzling
Glamorous
Beautiful
Enchanting
With a twinkle, a wink of an eye,
wiggle of her hip,
A pose, a pout, a flash of her captivating smile,
she has men wanting her and women wanting to be her.
She is Marilyn Monroe.
She is the picturesque of glamour.
She is an immortal Goddess captured on film.
She made us believe that Gentlemen really do prefer blondes.
She captured us with her soft voice, voluptuous figure. And her alluring demeanor.
She sparkled like the diamonds around her neck.
She died before her time, but was reborn in our hearts.
She was a girl who dreamed of becoming a star, now she shines among them.
She is an angel, an inspiration, and a vision.
Dazzling
Glamorous
Beautiful
Enchanting
She is Marilyn Monroe
If you have something you would like to contribute to this page, send us an email.
