IconElegies

 It was my divine play in the mental hospital. The actors were crazy, the director was crazy (me), everything was crazy, and the Parisian nobility loved it all. Of course it had to end. That too was taken from me, the bloated, sick sadist. Oh. All those manuscripts of mine, which my son destroyed. A note from a poet. The Marquis de Sade, was a writer.

I died on the way to my father's funeral, which became mine. The giant was dead. I am best remembered for drinking a hundred beers at once, but then,  I was a giant. But even a giant's heart gets tired. A Poet's Note. Andre the Giant, actually André René Roussimoff, was a French show wrestler known for his exceptionally large size.

I am the leader of Romania. I still am. Traitors seized power, I fed them and they bit my hand off. They had no justice. After that miserable trial, they shot me and my wife like dogs. Their own leaders. They betrayed me, the enemies of socialism! I hummed the Internationale, as I passed into the darkness. A note from a poet. Nicolae Ceausescu was the dictator of Romania.

My heart did not burn even in fire, in my life it burned, without thinking about anything, and I obeyed. My wife kept my heart for decades, and that was the longest she had me. My heart could not withstand the storm at sea either, and stopped beating when it drowned. It washed up with its master on the Italian beach sand. How else could a poet have died? Poet's note. Percy Shelley was one of the most famous poets of the Romantic era.

They sold me as the Elephant Man because of my ugly appearance, even though I was born clean, like everyone else. I was really Joseph Merrick, a human, even they though I didn't look like one. I was saved from a freak show, but I wasn't made human. My skeleton wasn't buried with me, it was studied for years,  but never my soul.  I just wanted to sleep like everyone else. Poet's Note. Joseph Merrick was called the Elephant Man because of the deformities of his body.

I was everyone's baby, but when I died I didn't even have hair, the platinum blonde was gone. All those vampstories, I was so much more. I never had the man I loved by my side. Not even in the grave. My mother came with me there too. This was Hollywood. Nothing more. Poet's note. Jean Harlow was one of the biggest movie stars of the 30s.

 Life was a play for me, whose last act I decided myself. Shame was not part of my plans, the soldiers laughed and mocked me. I escaped my shame by dying like a warrior, I had made myself a warrior, but I was a fool to people. I decided my own death, my last act, but I did not take Japan with me. They would have needed me. A poet's note. Yukio Mishima was a Japanese writer who committed seppuku after his failed "coup".