Pamela Anderson's Epic Poem
By Pamela Anderson
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Smoldering...
I know it's bad for you...
But, this is when I wish,
I had a cigarette-
something I've never tried- (light up)
some kind of relief..
I wish it was Italy 40 years ago--
The moon rising over the Amphitheater--
to tremendous applause... like Herzog (clap)
Europeans don't seem to care about silly
smoking laws?,
We do what we want anyway -
behind closed doors--
Our true character, collective complexities.
childish activities -
patterns- genetics? Attention deficit-
- ...SEX ... a lost art-- a sickness--
Perversions-
Lost sensuality -
The cruel smell of orange blossoms...
I love being in love– but expectations,
make it impossible to be happy-
or satisfied…
I've tried… so hard..
maybe it's not in fashion–
Tradition…just seemed so romantic…,
I guess it's a used up ideal –
for the old fashion…
not modern…
Female security… lost-
no way–
Coded, and loaded Cell phones,
Computers —
Ordering sex on line-
is like ordering a book on Amazon–
and … snooping eats you alive–
A mirrored action. obsessive love…
unhealthy,
hopeless- knocked sideways–
There is always this feeling -
of discontent–
Like something is off…
I can't put my finger on why–
Who wants to be the Warden–
I want out of here– out of this time –
in space–
Grey, muted crystals,
from unsavory places-
bad intentions,
dull- no fire-- a secret life -
Laying in my hotel bed--
pulling up my stockings- carefully
re-attaching to the garter- ,
The cuban heel- the line
(right on course)
the works...
Feeling a little guilty-
I started to fantasize--
Il Postino, Pablo Neruda-
Should I go to Capri--?
So frustrated--
burning... questions...
No man knows what to do with me--
I blame myself--
To play with me, is eternal--
I'm not 'on the clock' or…
on the 'payroll'–
rrrr–
I had to get out of the room-
The velvet stuff and porcelain things
closing in on me–
What have I done...?
I knew it was wrong from the start--
primitive-- base instinct..
Never marry a rich man...
Euros from a Vagabond..
Just start walking - (Like Jeanne Moreau and
Miles Davis)
Never look back-
There is only beauty ahead,
Salvation..
Glory
Rushing...
I almost forgot where I was-- shit--
My white
Burberry trench -
- on the floor?
A Parkay floor…
(Narration by a deep voiced sexy black guy)
BG- She stopped to admire it's clever design,
ME- "So pretty"
BG wrapped herself up—
She snuck out the door with a quiet click,
and Seamlessly, floating down the hall- (on wire)
Her Tom Ford feet didn't
touch the ground–
Falling gracelessly into an elevator
playing Nat King Cole's …. Stardust?
(remembering the movie)
ME- "Fallen Angel?"
BG Nobody was up yet-
out into the cool world she goes,
ME-"Freedom…
I can breathe…"
BG- looking for a little human contact?
Playful seduction? …
ME- "I'm so Hungry…"
BG- Her heart was racing—
It was barely dawn —
Bathed in perfect light-
magic hour– —
ME- "Everyone looks good this early"
BG- Even cats and hummingbirds
Was anyone watching her..
She gazed up into dark windows…
to nobody…
and let the jacket fall loosely around
her shoulders…
The rush coming back- …
a little lost on purpose,
Hiding around corners,
ME- so dangerous-
my body is on fire….
my body is never done– trouble finds me–
please find me-
The iron is always hot!"
BG- She Leaned against the cool wall of a
stoney church-
It felt good, soothing-
ME- I wonder how prostitution works-
Does it ever feel good?
Lost little souls - being taken advantage of--
or taking advantage of-
Is it just for money? Is it for attention?
or --- both--
Women suffer-
- Everywhere...
rules, rules, rules--
conflicting needs..
I can't find the answers-- It's an epidemic--
I know I won't compete with a computer--
or - a gaggle of hollywood boys hiring poor
Russian girls to swallow loaves of bread
up their anus'?-
How does that work?"
BG- She was disturbed--
How far can she take this?-- Is it even real?--
ME- "Have we lost men to thin air---
to the Abyss-- to technology and lube-
Flesh is attached to a heart and a brain-
takes effort...and skill...
Where are the great lovers?-- A lost art...
God , I hope not...
I've never been to Columbia-- Should I go?- I really want to go!
Is this Hysteria?…
Objectification?
now– Coming down from the ceiling,
dripping in gold glitter–
Dancing with Nureyev- eyes closed—
the dream…
arousing my tenderness,
A sweet rawness-
feeling bruised and scratched up–
Hypnotic -
Life is sensual– not a "fix it in post"–
ME- I miss PLAYBOY-
The End of an Era–
Chivalry, elegance-
Celebrated imperfections -
differences… hot—passionate dreamy scenes…
The girl next door– shyness– "it's my first time"
but - not my last….(wink)
– I'm planning a mysterious coup–
Want to get in on it–
Julian Assange?
Is it healthy, to be fantasied about…
by many men –?
Isn't that the goal-
How many can we effect–
It's natural– to want to be desired–
The world creeps up on you–
and there you are,
ALL over the place-
places you never intended to be– (desert storm?)
(soldiers)
I am human you know–
left to adjust to the madness-
No mercy- pay the price– my fault-
BG- feeling empty, sad– withdrawn-
Left to Isolate– Medicate.
Go to sleep–
ME-NO! I wont- -
ME- You know- It's not freaky enough,
to just be beautiful–
I've never felt beautiful-
I always felt sexual… and blind..
oh wowwy… I'm losing my mind–
I'm shutting down– It's such a strange feeling…
going numb… in front of everyone—-
It's like a Self inflicted drowning…hard to do–
(Alarm bells!!)—
When did I want to be this thing?–
To attract what?
When did I go from a curious little girl,
to an insatiable woman? Girl on the run…
Femme fatale… devoted and ….divided.
Are we all going crazy? -
or, is it just me?
Is it that stuff on unwashed vegetables?
When did I lose control over my own heart?–
When did I start believing ,
That this is all I'm good for-
against my better judgement–
fell for it- dammit- it all backfired–
It doesn't feel good to be used, neglected, ignored—
controlled….
I'm not doing this—
It's humiliating - I have to turn this around–
Settling is powerless- desperate–
an illusion–
Can't buy your way out of this one …buddy!!,
I'm cold-
(She can't stop laughing..)
Reminds me of a play I wrote --
That one about The Hell's Angels,
starring -
Steve Queen and Brigitte Bardot--
The Entr' Acte....
** A car chase-
She is going on and on (in french) and
He's just trying to have his way with her-
everything is double entree' Funny/Sexy-(subtitles projected)
They've stolen billions in diamonds - she's dripping from head to toe...
in a sparkly madness of laughter--- 60's Porsche?- (or that GT/Bullit car)
All in a Car - bouncing and swerving-- lights- facing the audience-- (with BW projections from the 60's behind them--)...
They fall in love-- They fall apart---
I'm not sure what the The Hells Angels have to do with it--
but they stay in the title---
The End....
VEGAS 2014... limited engagement--
Copywritten Pamela Anderson-- (all rights reserved)-
written July 1, 2014
by,
Pamela Anderson
I know it's bad for you...
But, this is when I wish,
I had a cigarette-
something I've never tried- (light up)
some kind of relief..
I wish it was Italy 40 years ago--
The moon rising over the Amphitheater--
to tremendous applause... like Herzog (clap)
Europeans don't seem to care about silly
smoking laws?,
We do what we want anyway -
behind closed doors--
Our true character, collective complexities.
childish activities -
patterns- genetics? Attention deficit-
- ...SEX ... a lost art-- a sickness--
Perversions-
Lost sensuality -
The cruel smell of orange blossoms...
I love being in love– but expectations,
make it impossible to be happy-
or satisfied…
I've tried… so hard..
maybe it's not in fashion–
Tradition…just seemed so romantic…,
I guess it's a used up ideal –
for the old fashion…
not modern…
Female security… lost-
no way–
Coded, and loaded Cell phones,
Computers —
Ordering sex on line-
is like ordering a book on Amazon–
and … snooping eats you alive–
A mirrored action. obsessive love…
unhealthy,
hopeless- knocked sideways–
There is always this feeling -
of discontent–
Like something is off…
I can't put my finger on why–
Who wants to be the Warden–
I want out of here– out of this time –
in space–
Grey, muted crystals,
from unsavory places-
bad intentions,
dull- no fire-- a secret life -
Laying in my hotel bed--
pulling up my stockings- carefully
re-attaching to the garter- ,
The cuban heel- the line
(right on course)
the works...
Feeling a little guilty-
I started to fantasize--
Il Postino, Pablo Neruda-
Should I go to Capri--?
So frustrated--
burning... questions...
No man knows what to do with me--
I blame myself--
To play with me, is eternal--
I'm not 'on the clock' or…
on the 'payroll'–
rrrr–
I had to get out of the room-
The velvet stuff and porcelain things
closing in on me–
What have I done...?
I knew it was wrong from the start--
primitive-- base instinct..
Never marry a rich man...
Euros from a Vagabond..
Just start walking - (Like Jeanne Moreau and
Miles Davis)
Never look back-
There is only beauty ahead,
Salvation..
Glory
Rushing...
I almost forgot where I was-- shit--
My white
Burberry trench -
- on the floor?
A Parkay floor…
(Narration by a deep voiced sexy black guy)
BG- She stopped to admire it's clever design,
ME- "So pretty"
BG wrapped herself up—
She snuck out the door with a quiet click,
and Seamlessly, floating down the hall- (on wire)
Her Tom Ford feet didn't
touch the ground–
Falling gracelessly into an elevator
playing Nat King Cole's …. Stardust?
(remembering the movie)
ME- "Fallen Angel?"
BG Nobody was up yet-
out into the cool world she goes,
ME-"Freedom…
I can breathe…"
BG- looking for a little human contact?
Playful seduction? …
ME- "I'm so Hungry…"
BG- Her heart was racing—
It was barely dawn —
Bathed in perfect light-
magic hour– —
ME- "Everyone looks good this early"
BG- Even cats and hummingbirds
Was anyone watching her..
She gazed up into dark windows…
to nobody…
and let the jacket fall loosely around
her shoulders…
The rush coming back- …
a little lost on purpose,
Hiding around corners,
ME- so dangerous-
my body is on fire….
my body is never done– trouble finds me–
please find me-
The iron is always hot!"
BG- She Leaned against the cool wall of a
stoney church-
It felt good, soothing-
ME- I wonder how prostitution works-
Does it ever feel good?
Lost little souls - being taken advantage of--
or taking advantage of-
Is it just for money? Is it for attention?
or --- both--
Women suffer-
- Everywhere...
rules, rules, rules--
conflicting needs..
I can't find the answers-- It's an epidemic--
I know I won't compete with a computer--
or - a gaggle of hollywood boys hiring poor
Russian girls to swallow loaves of bread
up their anus'?-
How does that work?"
BG- She was disturbed--
How far can she take this?-- Is it even real?--
ME- "Have we lost men to thin air---
to the Abyss-- to technology and lube-
Flesh is attached to a heart and a brain-
takes effort...and skill...
Where are the great lovers?-- A lost art...
God , I hope not...
I've never been to Columbia-- Should I go?- I really want to go!
Is this Hysteria?…
Objectification?
now– Coming down from the ceiling,
dripping in gold glitter–
Dancing with Nureyev- eyes closed—
the dream…
arousing my tenderness,
A sweet rawness-
feeling bruised and scratched up–
Hypnotic -
Life is sensual– not a "fix it in post"–
ME- I miss PLAYBOY-
The End of an Era–
Chivalry, elegance-
Celebrated imperfections -
differences… hot—passionate dreamy scenes…
The girl next door– shyness– "it's my first time"
but - not my last….(wink)
– I'm planning a mysterious coup–
Want to get in on it–
Julian Assange?
Is it healthy, to be fantasied about…
by many men –?
Isn't that the goal-
How many can we effect–
It's natural– to want to be desired–
The world creeps up on you–
and there you are,
ALL over the place-
places you never intended to be– (desert storm?)
(soldiers)
I am human you know–
left to adjust to the madness-
No mercy- pay the price– my fault-
BG- feeling empty, sad– withdrawn-
Left to Isolate– Medicate.
Go to sleep–
ME-NO! I wont- -
ME- You know- It's not freaky enough,
to just be beautiful–
I've never felt beautiful-
I always felt sexual… and blind..
oh wowwy… I'm losing my mind–
I'm shutting down– It's such a strange feeling…
going numb… in front of everyone—-
It's like a Self inflicted drowning…hard to do–
(Alarm bells!!)—
When did I want to be this thing?–
To attract what?
When did I go from a curious little girl,
to an insatiable woman? Girl on the run…
Femme fatale… devoted and ….divided.
Are we all going crazy? -
or, is it just me?
Is it that stuff on unwashed vegetables?
When did I lose control over my own heart?–
When did I start believing ,
That this is all I'm good for-
against my better judgement–
fell for it- dammit- it all backfired–
It doesn't feel good to be used, neglected, ignored—
controlled….
I'm not doing this—
It's humiliating - I have to turn this around–
Settling is powerless- desperate–
an illusion–
Can't buy your way out of this one …buddy!!,
I'm cold-
(She can't stop laughing..)
Reminds me of a play I wrote --
That one about The Hell's Angels,
starring -
Steve Queen and Brigitte Bardot--
The Entr' Acte....
** A car chase-
She is going on and on (in french) and
He's just trying to have his way with her-
everything is double entree' Funny/Sexy-(subtitles projected)
They've stolen billions in diamonds - she's dripping from head to toe...
in a sparkly madness of laughter--- 60's Porsche?- (or that GT/Bullit car)
All in a Car - bouncing and swerving-- lights- facing the audience-- (with BW projections from the 60's behind them--)...
They fall in love-- They fall apart---
I'm not sure what the The Hells Angels have to do with it--
but they stay in the title---
The End....
VEGAS 2014... limited engagement--
Copywritten Pamela Anderson-- (all rights reserved)-
written July 1, 2014
by,
Pamela Anderson
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