Posts Tagged ‘Hollywood’

Did you see the latest circus?
That royal death,
Or that famous marriage,
Or some such elite scandal,
Oh they had money,
So you must have,

The elite are putting on a show,
The circus is in town,
On the screen and radio,

The interviewers dive between bodies,
Like stuntmen on a tightrope,
Do you see those paparazzi on the trapeze,
Trying to get a good shot of our stars?
The crowds baying in sycophantic fervour,
They’re looked down on like a travelling freakshow,

The serfs always need to see their betters,
The circus is in town,
On the screen and radio,

These clowns on the red carpet,
In gaudy suits and frumpy dresses,
Blockaded by hi-vis knights,
They’re not really too funny,
Selfies are hardly comedy,
But the media eats it up,

You see,
Celebrity is the greatest pageant,
The circus is in town,
On the screen and radio.

I remember once,
There was a man,
Proudly surfing the waves of stardom,
But it all changed,
When he found himself struck by grapeshot,
Battered by pearlescent deceit,
Discrediting gunpowder and iron,

Now he is a wreck at sea,
Forgotten,
Discarded,
Down in the breathless dark,
Laid beside lofty ideas and fallen anchors,
Coddled by sand and whalebones,
Now only an admiral of split timber,

Despite his lavish accolades,
He was the victim of mutiny,
Not at cutlass point,
But tongues coated in spite,
He became a lesson to others,
A cautionary tale,
Not to put your head above the gunwale.

Hello young lady,
You want to be an actress?
Walk the red carpet?
I’ll get you there,
You look like a star you know,
The next Monroe,

You’re just perfect lass,
Just a touch of dye here,
And nip and tuck,
Not to mention the push-up bra,
I’m not changing you,
Just opening some doors,

Auditions shall fall like rain my dear,
Just trust me,
I’m trying to help you,
Here’s a drink,
All the greats drink this and smoke that,
Hollywood always provides,

Come sit here my dear,
Don’t mind my hand,
I’m your friend right?
Oh my girl,
Tomorrow you’ll be a star,
But for now come kneel here.

That sign on the hill,
That ivory chapel to fame,
What those letters represent is a fa├žade,
A corpse flanked by stage lights,
Shining and corrupt,
Sprawling yet shallow,

It’s a predator,
It has devoured countless souls,
The city sells glamour and exotic highs,
Whilst thirsting for youth and flesh,
Its alleyways are chock-full of corpses in tuxedos,
Skeletons of proteges and child stars,

It is beautiful,
The most lethal places are,
Those roads are coated in gold,
But peel those pavement stars up,
Slab by slab,
And underneath lies cancer and putrescence,

Those cityscapes hide much,
Casting couch teeth,
Vampires in directors chairs,
Narcotics around every block,
The city of angels?
An oxymoron to be sure.


What is the price of glamour?
The label upon fame,
Is it money?
A monetary tribute?
Luck?
The biased roll of a die?
How about effort?
Sweat of your brow?
Nay,
One does not believe so,
It is your very soul,
Your true worth,

No devils here in Hollywood,
It is not hell but a swamp,
Just flesh and blood mosquitoes,
In suits and movie sets,
You’ll be covered in plastic,
And follow a script,
Tied to a narcotic,
And they’ll love you for it,
The brainless throngs,
They’ll applaud as you lose yourself,
Just smile,
There are dollars in your eyes.