The Day Michael Jackson Died

My friend, my lover asked me a question
A question that sent me even farther apart from television

All the channels showed me one death
A death of the Icon Michael Jackson
But it did not show the other lives that were yet to be deceased

And I’m neither shocked nor appalled
I knew this was going to happen
This, this thing we call life

And we forget that there are millions of others out there
I understand he was amazing, and such a Thriller
But he is no less of a genius now than he was before
Of course he is family and he will be missed

But what about the ones we will truly miss if something happened
The ones who are never too far from arms reach
So we deem them worthy of this word called friendship
As we try to figure out what the reason for chemotherapy really is
Only to understand and realize, realize and understand
I mean, I had a thought but I didn’t quite know what it was for

The internet is helpful for information but it’s never an aid for mending hearts
So how can I answer her question when no one is watching
No one is trying to find the answers to cure cancer
They’re watching reruns of headlines that don’t need to be shown to the world
It’s ok if a loss or a win is personal
And kept inside four dimensional walls called a Home

Maybe we’re just stuck in a cell that tells us,
“Michael Jackson Dead At 50.”

Maybe if it had said something like,
“I Only Asked Because My Friend Is Doing Chemo…”

…would we understand that it doesn’t matter about stars
Or how bright they shine, but it matters most
How long after they’re gone that they still keep on shining
Even if we don’t see them anymore
Or how bright they shine even if inside everyone else is dying with them

D. K.

Roses, tulips, lullabies,
Swirls, butterflies, galaxies
And other words for poetry

She says, “Make me a poem”
And that’s what comes to mind

Only because as poets we’re supposed
To “stay away” from daffodils, angels, and heaven
Because it has now become “cliché”

Doves, kisses, and chocolate covered dreams
Seem to be as far distant as the distance that’s between us
The year to “change the world” is over
But there are those who Poet and those who read
So in a way we’re never too far

We stay in between words that hold space
Between the letters f, r, i, e, n, d, s
And you’ll always find us somewhere in between
Playing hide and seek with reality
Because we know sometime soon we have to go home

So we stay bound to trains that lead us to our hometown
Waiting for a friend to come home
Waiting for a poem to talk for us
Waiting…just waiting
Waiting for a poem from the other one

And I’m not one for dedications
Or admirations
Or any ions that binds people together
But chemistry always seems to be my friend

So I thank you for somehow finding my words
As appealing as the smile that is happiness
I thank you for “marry me?”
I thank you for thanking me
But most importantly I thank you
For being you, because without u there’s no us

So a toast to friendship
A toast to cupcakes, tea, picnics, beautiful,
Cute, dimples, subliminal, creations, world
Most importantly for words,
And language

So I can actually say them to you

More Posts

http://www.tppearson.com/

Once you go to the website you'll click on "Feeling Poetic?".
After clicking on that, you will see my name.
You can click on my name and that will take you to some published poems.

Enjoy.
One.

CORVette KiD

Live.

Sometimes we forget to live.
I forget to give you breath.
I forget to forget

And then I remember
I remember everyone in life.
I remember everyone in death.

I get scared, nervous that one day will no longer be one day.
It might turn into my forever.
When will I learn about today?
About my present?
About my now?

I can't believe my thoughts.
So I let them sky the horizons.
I let them star in their own galaxy.

And in the end I forget to remember,
Life is Death.
Death is Life.

Which one are you living?
I'm dying to live.

I'm back...what more do you want. (old)

I'm not the best. Just human. My silly only humors at the right time. So the bright times that my whiles sublime is only when smiles shine. Lights way for ppl to enjoy laughter when casters plast. Adds a mask to cuts and bruises. Its the fuses that get through scars that abuse the pain. I feel your strain, so I understand. Under hand my help so others can climb higher. I'm not the buyer because I don't pay for your sense. I let it cents, pay wat it can. Comprehend wat I can get from your life to learn to learn about mine. I don't undermind, I just over bind. Find a way to connect so you don't see unbending lines. Blind yourself in images of perfection. Even if flaws make you lose affection for yourself. Its the health seen in reflections that make your body better. Headers for essays that want you in magazines. Add the feigns, they want more of you. And you've never failed life if they still aint got the core of you. The sore of you will heal if you accept the pain. Affect the rain that covers your sky. Don't rely on umbrellas to get fellas off your back. Let them fall in the puddles that huddle around compounded soil. Its the toil that makes you hurt but to work through it keeps you standing. heading out into sunny spots of greenery. A scenery of landscapes that let you escape this hell hole. That's why I help wit your search in self whole. So when the time comes you can spread your wings. Head your springs so your flowers can bloom. And when it feels like its the tomb, the end of the world, don't let things consume, no need for pearls. A sacrifice to suffice your mistakes. Take them and make them into lessons learned. Agression burns but your eyes brighten the room better than fumes of fire. So if you plan to retire, admire the heights you've conquered. You're makin history even if the books don't show it. They haven't captured the rapture you've mastered. So be what you can and when I catch up to you we can enjoy your success as well as the stress we made it from. Come home after, like a big holiday. Celebrate the greatness that paintings couldn't create. Levitate from your thoughts to reflect on my coughs. The ones you gave to me when you blessed me. When you rest me in piece don't forget to come. Ill be waiting there to tell you heaven is already in my city. In the pretty diamond that shines on the reflection of the suns surface. So don't curve this on me because my potential is not where its supposed to be. It hasn't gotten there like it has for you. Like it has for you, like it has for you.

One Thought

I met two ppl today...

One had a rose. Passin petals for hand outs. Tryin to find money for food when wats left was just lost petals.

One had a question of hand outs. I didn't know wat to do. I was on the train (metro rail) goin home. I was lost in my music. Just walking in and sitting down. I put my leftover food in the seat next to me under my City Year jacket. I sat there thinking about life. (Life is thoughtfully thought over by me and it means everythin that still needs to be done) I was waiting for my stop. Then, out of nowhere, I feel a tap on my back. I turned around, "Can I have your leftovers? Are you going to eat it for dinner?" "Yes, I am. Sorry, I don't have anything either." I turned around and kept listening to my music. I thought about it. It dawned on me, when is it a good deed, or just a good seed? Am I to help those that go hungry even when I'm starved? Am I to help those who need nourishment to grow a "pass it forward" ripple? I didn't know. So I just sat there. Stared at the floor and thought of my life. The train stopped at Brickell. It somehow paused, it didn't leave as quickly as it does. It hit me again, do things happen to me so I can be the Superman, the Super Hero? I'm no Super Hero. I'm just human. Then the doors closed and the train kept going. I thought about everything. I've been hungry for so long. Why should I share my niblets? Why should I trust someone that asks for hand outs when I'm always willing but unsure if its for the good part of being alive? But I heard his voice echoing, "Can I have your leftovers?" And it wasn't "can I have some money for food?" Is there a difference? I think there is. Food keeps the heart warm. It makes the hunger pains vacation for another day. Hopefully, they never come back. Before the train stopped I got my things together. I looked at my jacket, just the logo. City Year. I told myself that its my job to serve. That's why I joined. But am I always serving? I didn't think so. I got up, because my stop was next, and looked back. I saw their eyes. They had bags, litterly. Both under their eyes pregnant with sorrows and hopes as well as bags on their shoulders like their homes went wherever they roamed. It was a long day for both of us. I knew it too well. I stood there waiting for the doors to open. And I couldn't decide whether to give unto others or supply myself with fat for my bones. What happens when my bones dig their own graves? Maybe I'm just graved. Filled with choices when I didn't have them years ago. So I stumble backwards and then I knew it was for a reason. The doors opened. I thought about it again. And then I just...

If I'm in your dreams,
let me sleep so I can dream you into mine.
There we will meet and become one not only in verbs but with words.

Just tell me, so I know when to start dreaming.

I'll dream a dream that dreams its dreaming
because who thought it ever to be in your thoughts.
To live when everything else is asleep.
Yet, I lay awake wondering how did I walk so far into someone's home.
I don't know...but it feels good.

Just good. Not great because it's only that when you're around and not when I'm thinking.
I'm thinking, I'm thinking, whatever happens in a dream is luck or a shock to me.
Never thought i'd meet you in my sleep.
Somehow I also find you in between lines hiding
so I'll never find out what your dream was really about.

I hope I never find out Just so my real self knows that I once was thought of.
Then when I lay in bed I can sleep counting that one time over and over as if it were petals on weeds.
See, I'm a broken down flower with thorns that are as old as my color.

I'll be your flower, even if it's broken by the stem.
Hold me tight when the wind blows and I'll never let you go.