With all the coverage on the life and times of Michael Jackson, the editors at Creative Souls decided to take a different approach. Michael loved books!
According to the Washington Post, book stores throughout Los Angeles recalled that he was a frequent visitor when he was in town, sometimes asking the stores to close a few minutes early so he could browse untroubled by fans. He loved poetry, Ralph Waldo Emerson in particular, and according to his lawyer, was quite well-read in psychology, literature and history. At the time of his death, his collection amounted to 10,000 books.
We did a little researched and found some of his original poetry.
Ryan White
Ryan White, symbol of justice
Or child of innocence, messenger of love
Where are you now, where have you gone?
Ryan White, I miss your sunny days
We carelessly frolicked in extended plays
I miss you, Ryan White
I miss your smile, innocent and bright
I miss your glory, I miss your light
Ryan White, symbol of contradiction
Child of Irony, or child of fiction?
I think of your shattered life
Of your struggle, of your strife
While ladies dance in the moonlit night
Champage parties on charted cruises
I see your wasted form, your ghostly sight
I feel your festering wounds, your battered bruises
Ryan White, symbol of agony and pain
Of ignorant fear gone insane
In a hysterical society
With free-floating anxiety
And feigned piety
I miss you, Ryan White
You showed us how to stand and fight
In the rain you were the cloudburst joy
The sparkle of hope in every girl and boy
In the depths of your anguished sorrow
Was the dream of another tomorrow
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Magical Child
Once there was a child and he was free
Deep inside, he felt the laughter
The mirth and play of nature's glee
Beauty, love was all he'd see
He knew his power was the power of God
He was so sure, they considered him odd
This power of innocence, of compassion, of light
Threatened the priests and created a fight
In endless ways they sought to dismantle
This mysteroius force which they could not handle
In endless ways they tried to destroy
His simple trust, his boundless joy
His invincible armor was a shield of bliss
Nothing could touch it, no venom, no hiss
The child remained in a state of grace
He wasn't confined in time or place
In Technicolor dreams, he frolicked and played
While acting his part, in Eternity he stayed
Soothsayers came and fortunes were told
Some were vehement, others were bold
In denouncing this child, this perplexing creature
With the rest of the world he shared no feature
IS he real?He is so strange
His unpredictable nature knows no range
He puzzles us so, is he straight?
What's his destiny?What's his fate?
And while they whispered and conspired
Through endless rumors to get him tired
To kill his wonder, trample him near
Burn his courage, fuel his fear
The child remained just simpel, sincere
All he wanted was the mountain high
Color the clouds, paint the sky
Beyond these boundaries, he wanted to fly
In nature's scheme, never to die
Don't stop this child, he's the father of man
Don't cross his way, he's part of the plan
I am that child, but so are you
You've just forgotten, just lost the clue
Inside your heart sits a Seer
Between his thoughts, he can hear
A melody simple but wondrously clear
The music of life, so precious, so dear
If you could for one moment know
This spark of creation, this exquisite glow
You would come and dance with me
Kindle this fire so we could see
All the children of the Earth
Wave their magic and give new birth
To a world of freedom with no pain
A world of joy, much more sane
Deep inside, you know it's true
Just find that child, it's hiding in you. |
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