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July 14, 2009
Maya Angelou's Elegy For Michael Jackson
John Lundberg: Maya Angelou's Elegy For Michael JacksonAmong the many notable moments at Michael Jackson's funeral was Queen Latifah's reading of the Maya Angelou poem "We Had Him." The popular poetess wrote the poem specifically for the occasion (no easy task) and just that morning asked Latifah to perform it, which she did with spirit and elegance.
"We Had Him" is typical of Angelou's work: inspirational and accessible, confident, and deriving power from its rhythms and repetition. You probably know her popular poem "Phenomenal Woman," and might remember another occasional poem she wrote, "On the Pulse of the Morning," which she read at Bill Clinton's first inauguration.
Here's a transcript of "We Had Him" (I took a best guess at the line breaks--Angelou may have intended them to fall elsewhere):
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, EnglandWe are missing Michael.
But we do know we had him, and we are the world.
The audience responded well to the poem. What do you think?I find more poignancy in this quote from her book I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings: "A bird doesn't sing because it has an answer, it sings because it has a song."
Michael didn't seem to have a lot of answers, but for all of his faults, he sang a powerful song.
Jacko's Bizarre Private Asian Bakery Shopping Spree!
Michael Jackson Grocery Shopping in Thailand!
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Para @kahlo Dadanoias: Hugo Chavez modelled into an action figure doll
good shit!
Venezuela's President Hugo Chavez has been modelled into an action doll with his trademark red beret and distinctive mole. The 51-cm (20-inch) "revolutionary doll" gives soundbites from the talkative president and comes in uniform or a revolutionary red jacket.
"You can dress him, you can undress him, you can put him in various shapes, you have him like that too, you can change his wardrobe, you can take of his beret and he gives you a speech," said shop owner Douglas Bustamante. But Carla Sanchez has already purchased her 'Chavecito', explaining that the special connection Chavez has with children will ensure the doll sells. "Between Chavez and children there is an energy of mutual attraction and that is something which nobody can argue, and which is evident".
The Daily Star - Details News
Wednesday, July 15, 2009The Daily Star - Details NewsSCOOP! Today we bring you an exclusive report from The Afterlife.
The scene: a quiet street in a swish suburb of heaven assigned to music stars. A big house is topped with a neon sign, which says "The King." In the front garden, a chubby man in his early forties is watering his plants and singing to himself: "Since mah baby lef' me. I found a noo place ta go."
He looks up as a thin man with lank black hair appears, moonwalking along the pavements.
The newcomer points to the sign with his white-gloved hand. "I see you guys prepared a house for me," he says.
"Sorry, bud," says the stocky homeowner. "There's only room fer one king round here. And that's me."
The thin man looks aggrieved. "But I'm the king of pop. I sold hundreds of millions of albums."
The chubby man replies: "Ah sold a billion."
The thin man twitches nervously. He thinks about moving on but then looks again at the word "king" in neon letters. He decides to fight for it. Making stabbing motions with his gloved hand, he launches into an argument. "You need more than album sales, you need the full rock star package. That's what I had. I was totally eccentric and lived in a big mansion filled with bizarre mementoes. And I was as famous for my hot moves as my singing. Now that's a rock star." He does a quick moonwalk on the pavement to demonstrate.
Elvis (for it is he) replies: "You're a mime?"
The other man is furious. "I am not a mime.'
"That 'dance' is jes' lesson one, normal walking, for any mime. And that white face. Ah jes' thought ..."
"I am the total rock star package," the thin one repeats.
Elvis puts down his watering can. "Ah had all that stuff too. Mah mansion was called Graceland. And mah dancing was so hot they weren't allowed to show mah hips on TV. So ah think ah'll jes' keep mah title if you don't mind."
The thin man is determined now, and he isn't giving up without a fight. "The mansion and the cool moves were just the start. The main thing is that you gotta be baaad, know what I'm saying? I always talked about moral values, but wasted my fortune on junk. I was worth a billion dollars and ended up owing people money. Ah spent four million dollars just on statues.'
Elvis, 42, replies: "Ah did 'xactly the same thing. Wasted a huge fortune on junk. Maybe me and you is twins."
The newcomer, 50, is clearly taken aback. "I'm sure I was badder than you," he insists, although he is starting to sound unsure of himself. "I was addicted to drugs. My favourite was Demerol. When I died, first they said it was a heart attack, and then they said it was probably Demerol."
Elvis scratches his head. "Now that's weird. Ah was also addicted to drugs. When Ah died, they said it was a heart attack, and then they blamed Demerol. Ah died jus' before startin' a new concert series."
"So did I," says the thin man. "But I'm telling you, there was no way you were as bad as I was. I got in trouble over my interest in underage fans. Now that's really baaaad."
Elvis shakes his head. "Sorry, mistah, you ain't badder than me. Ah also liked the young ones. Ask a 14-year-old gal called Priscilla. Check out mah biographies." The King tilts his head to one side and looks puzzled. "But there's one thing ah'm suspicious of. Pop stars are usually good lookin. I hope you don't mind me saying this, but you are one mighty weird-looking fella."
The thin man nods sadly. "Yeah. I used to be young and freshfaced and nice-looking. But I lost my looks as I got older. It was my own fault."
Elvis nods. "Same story with me. Ah had ever'thing in life when ah was alive, 'xcept for one thing: a buddy."
The newcomer agrees. "Me too. Wanna drink?"
"Sure."
"Can we get Demerol round here?"
Elvis puts his arm around the thin man's shoulders. "Buddy, we're in heaven now. You don't need it."
If you still can't guess who the other king is then visit our columnist at www.vittachi.com.
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