Goodbye Michael Jacksonby Masauko Chipembere / 01.07.2009
The singer, the dancer, the God, the freak, the molested child, the healer, the genius, the thriller, the fool, the archangel, black man so lost in America that he became white in front of our eyes, we wait for your resurrection like a dancing zombie in a video but this is reality and it is not as easy as 1,2,3…
And they will love you with vehemence now that you are dead, they will make you new because you never got old, they can trap you in a loop of youth, a scoop of dream to be consumed quickly before melting in the palm, because had you grown old you would have become the elephant man and they would have hid from even your voice, it don’t matter if you’re black or white but everyone here hates old.
Wherever you are now do you get another childhood? Do you get a chance to visit innocence without fear? Do you get back your real face and is it pleasing to you now or do you finally become Elizabeth Taylor mixed with Diana Ross? Am I angry at you? Is that question loaded with anger? My daughter wants to know why you were black on daddy’s computer as a child and white on mommy’s as a grown up and I am answer-less.
My name is Michael and I’m angelic messenger from God. I’ve come to tell the people that you can make a mountain of money high enough to hide your race behind. You can try to dance and sing away the pain that explodes in your soul. But if there is no self love the heart can no longer keep time and death will watch silently by the side of the stage waiting for a pause in the music to snatch you up into the ether.