Wednesday, December 14, 2011


Idiots of living time signify nothing.
They merely paint my fall of hair,
mold my shapely legs to tempt
fools who’d be my familiars.
Time now to undo my estate
of lechers creeping in petty pace
to grasp, fondle, possess
a thousand recorded images
of my charmed, night-shrieking life.
I then was but a walking shadow,
my champagne flavored by fear.
My senses cooled, my candle out,
forty-nine years since flesh
met numbed and sodden death,
I have forgotten the taste of glamour,
and am alive in bloodless dignity-
safe from clamorous bells,
the fury of fame, needing you. 
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow,
to the last syllable of recorded time,
players will rouse and stir to shadows
of Marilyn, who briefly strutted upon a stage.

     Macbeth, Act v,scene v


Marie Fitz said...

Love it!!

Diana Ferraro said...

Shakespeare would be proud and I'm sure he would have adored Marylin, too, a bit like Truman Capote did. Sure, Nonnie, you brought for me all of them onto the stage. Nice work!

rak said...

why didn't our elders know better? why does this keep happening now that we "know better" maybe only poetry can answer such a sad question. more please!

Karen said...

... because there will always be ignorance.

Beautiful writing, as always.

Seif-Eldeine Och said...

Wow, it's still hard for me to tell which lines are yours and which are Shakespeare's.

Great job, Nonnie.