Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Michael Jackson

Here is a poem I wrote on Michael Jackson a few days after his death.

 MJ: Wacko Jacko

The King of Pop
Child prodigy
The Pied Piper
America’s Orpheus                                                 
Divine voice
Noble lyrics
Mesmeric dance

A wonder all his own

Idolized by millions

750 million albums sold
13 Grammy Awards
Multiple Guinness Records
Record-breaking charities

Then demonized

A black turned white
Surrogate father
Secret love child
Collapsed marriages
Child abuse
Bizarre personal life
Hyperbaric oxygen chamber
Physical and mental wreck
A fantasy figure
Bubble the champ his best friend
Owner of 2600-acre Neverland

Forced to live in oblivion
On the verge of bankruptcy
Preparing for a comeback

Suddenly dead!
Murdered for money?
A medical mistake ?
Overdose of drugs?

The spirit has flown out

The body in a golden coffin
Draped in a cascade of red roses
A plastic face
Prosthetic nose, missing
A stomach
Devoid of food
Saturated with drugs
Sleeping pills
Body punctured with needle marks
Rumours of skin cancer
Ruined lung

Ghost sightings

An image empty of content

When he came on to the stage
The audience rocked in a trance
Became one with him
There was no MJ
No audience
Nothing but a two-way flow of energy
A seamless chaos
Of frenzy
Of forgetfulness