I was never a Michael Jackson fan. Sure I liked some of his songs but no, I wasn't a fan. I found him too weird and his cosmetically altered appearance too freaky. But since I heard news about his "untimely" death, I found myself interested in Michael Jackson. I watched his music videos, read the obituaries, stayed tuned to the news. It's funny how death makes us stop and take notice. When he was alive, we ridiculed and judged him, wrote him off as crazy. Now, we remember all the good and beautiful about him, how he cared and made people happy.
I watched the memorial service rerun and couldn't help but wonder: where were all these people when Michael Jackson was in his lowest of lows? We'll never know but I do hope they were there for him.
This poem was written by Maya Angelou and was read by Queen Latifah at the memorial service. I think it's beautiful.
We Had Him
Beloveds, now we know that we know nothing, now that our bright and shining star can slip away from our fingertips like a puff of summer wind.
Without notice, our dear love can escape our doting embrace.
Sing our songs among the stars and walk our dances across the face of the moon.
In the instant that Michael is gone, we know nothing.
No clocks can tell time.
No oceans can rush our tides with the abrupt absence of our treasure.
Though we are many, each of us is achingly alone, piercingly alone.
Only when we confess our confusion can we remember that he was a gift to us and we did have him.
He came to us from the creator, trailing creativity in abundance.
Despite the anguish, his life was sheathed in mother love, family love, and survived and did more than that.
He thrived with passion and compassion, humor and style. We had him whether we know who he was or did not know, he was ours and we were his.
We had him, beautiful, delighting our eyes.
His hat, aslant over his brow, and took a pose on his toes for all of us.
And we laughed and stomped our feet for him.
We were enchanted with his passion because he held nothing.
He gave us all he had been given.
Today in Tokyo, beneath the Eiffel Tower, in Ghana's Black Star Square.
In Johannesburg and Pittsburgh, in Birmingham, Alabama, and Birmingham, England
We are missing Michael.
But we do know we had him, and we are the world.
3 comments:
no matter how crazy the guy is, when he died, we remembered the good memories... it's human nature na na na na na (tune of man in the mirror) he he he
i was watching the encore telecast of the tribute to mj. For the first few days since his death, i said i was not affected that much. I was a fan of his songs, but not a die-hard fan. I loved his songs (most of them).
I guess we should just remember the good things he did in his lifetime. For sure he made some mistakes, as we all do, but i guess the good things outweigh the bad.
The poem was well-written.
I grew up to his music and I am a fan. Back then meron pang rivalry ang The Osmonds and Jackson 5, and I like the latter more. I even had a crush on Michael back when he was still black, nung pumuti na pumangit na sya. Oh well, superstardom, in a way, made him weirder, but nevertheless I still like to listen to his songs. Although it has been more than a decade that he has not recorded a hit song, I will still miss him.
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