Culture Box
It is impossible to compress someone into 1000 words, much less one such as Michael Jackson.
A strange, troubled but undeniably brilliant soul, he somehow managed to touch people, generations apart, with his music.
One of the greatest of all time, almost his whole life was spent producing the songs we know so well today. The shock of his sudden death is wearing off now. But the enduring images broadcasted to millions of homes in the past few days, remain.
An image built up over the years portrayed him to us as a superstar, the King of Pop, Prince Michael. Belatedly, we realized that he is human after all. We all die, some sooner that others, but whenever it is, it still shocks and even though we many not know him personally, it still pains in some way. We cannot add much more to what has already been said. One of the most touching tributes was the poem by Maya Angelou, which was read by Queen Latifah at the memorial service. Entitled ‘We had Him’, it is reproduced below:
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.
Guyanese had him too.
RIP MJ. (thescene@stabroeknews.com)