11.12.2014

Icons R Ours

Do we get the best of you?
You are
honed from pink star diamond,
sprinkled with fairy dust.
Some people
have to deal with dandruff,
but you shake your head,
magic spews out
like a prowess geyser.
You shake your ass
and we all faint,
pin your poster to our walls,
attempt to embody you,
use
a variant of you
in nasty yet delicious acts,
dreams ringing with applause.
Still, we demand.
Perhaps a version of you
goes unsullied,
heirloom edition,
packed away for safekeeping?
Hope you are well-stowed
because
there’s no place safe out here.

Where am I going with this? Just started ruminating on the subject of iconic people in society for Kerry’s mid-week prompt to the Real Toads. But when you are writing 30 poems in as many days, you end up sharing stuff that ordinarily you’d file under DRAFT. So here you are, the beginnings of something that I’m counting as #12 of 30 Poems in November to benefit Center for New Americans.

11 comments:

  1. Don't know if you intended it or not, but this reminds me of Marilyn Monroe. Nicely done!

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  2. I believe you speak here so aptly of the way icons have become just another commodity of the consumerist society in which we live - the demand is high, the grist is ground, hunger seldom appeased. Your piece is a brilliant starting point for a conversation about our times.

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  3. An awesome perspective, kiddo - they rise so high, they fall so fast - there's no place safe out here for sure. Our iconic rock star radio celebrity has just been fired at the top of his game because some facts from his personal life became public. Loved this poem.

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  4. Oh, sigh...all those perfect icon worthy peeps out there...causes me to wonder though if there was one specifically that you had in mind when you wrote this. I wanted to write about Audrey Hepburn and Amy Winehouse but I didn't. :)

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  5. How lucky are we not in danger of becoming iconified!

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  6. Very true and powerful Marian. Fame is not all it is cracked up to be for sure.

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  7. :) well thanks, friends. whoosh!

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  8. Those poor vixen comets, lighting up our psyches, burning ice with the million-mile -dollar tail. I loved how you rode the commercial wave to shore (who can't recite what these luminaries culturally evoke?) ((few though approach "dreams ringing with applause")) and then turn to look back and wonder if anything -- anyone -- survives the surf mill of human projection and desire. Kim Kardashian's butt broke the Internet, but diamond dust looks just the same to me as sand at first light. Best of luck in your 30 day poem march! (Sorry for the slow response, Wordpress and Blogger are at odds with each other.)

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    1. isn't that funny, this has nothing to do with Kim K, of whom until this week i was blissfully mostly unaware. and now, yikes! :)

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  9. Hey Marian, I do not see all your thirty poems here yet know you have been writing them. This very charming and apt. You have a wondeful sense of humor throughout that is so engaging. Much enjoyed. Thanks . KZ

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    1. hi Karin! they are all here... one a day in November. i guess now that the month has changed, the November poems don't show up on the right, but you should be able to click on the masthead to see everything on the blog and just read backwards. thanks for caring to read! :)

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