Nov 25 2009

Five months. It seems like forever •••

Category: Photos,Prose/EssaysSeven @ 2:26 pm

The clock is ticking. Another hour, another month of life has gone, and you’re still missing. If I poured out all my love for you, the entire Universe would become an ocean, infinitely deep. The Sun may rise, but there is an Angel in my eyes who is so beautiful, I’d rather let the Sun play alone so I can stay and hold him as he sleeps. My Sun and Moon are in my Heart and they are You. Everything in my Heart is You. I love and miss you Michael. Still, and always, Gone Too Soon.  -Seven

MJ Sleeping

Sleeping Angel

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4 Responses to “Five months. It seems like forever •••”

  1. Carmen says:

    Seven, thank you for doing this website honoring Michael.

  2. Seven says:

    THANK YOU CARMEN for visiting! L.O.V.E.

  3. Mimi says:

    oh.. Michael…Michael….

  4. DFfrench says:

    Sometimes words are all we have.

    If we let them, they can carry us on the wings of the emotions they contain – to a place beyond words.

    A place where we remember.


    Through the beginning,

    Through the joy,

    Through the splendour,

    Through the catastrophe…

    To the desolation, we arrive.

    The summer of 2009 will always be the the winter that took our brightest light, and for those that understand, it has been perhaps the hardest summer of our lives.

    And so it should be.

    Michael deserves nothing less.

    I wish I could have met Michael, felt for myself the force of that fire, seen first-hand the curious grace of that smile. Scorcese described his persona as ‘shamanistic’, Spielberg called him ‘an emotional star child’, Mark Romanek remembers him as
    ‘metaphysical’, Anjelica Houston –
    ‘a meteor.’

    Whatever the word used, all of these highly creative individuals were each in their way trying to convey the sense of difference they felt in Michael. You can hear it in every note of his songs, in his entire body of work.

    And his voice, my God, that voice.

    That soft yet hard, delicate yet bullet-bright force of power and beauty he could produce at will. It crept inside you when you heard it, tapped at the fortress of your innermost being, before offering – everything. It elevated the merely kinetic to the kaleidoscopic, music into magic and a thousand songs into the substance of the soul.

    Some say Michael should be thought of as nothing more than an 80’s artefact, a relic of the bad, brash, Lucas-filmed, pre-Aids, pre-9/11 years when we thought the whole world loved America and people adored their stars like the old movie idols from back in the day. Maybe. But what they fail to realize is this: every kid I know is discovering Star Wars for the first time. The Sistine Chapel is no less beautiful now than it was when its painter first stepped down and exhaled.

    For true art is immortal and it lives forever.

    Michael often quoted Michelangelo – who famously said: ‘I will attempt to bind my soul to my work.’

    This is what Michael Jackson did. He put all that young idealism, that thirst for freedom, that yearning to ‘move’ and be moved, his desire to be the best, his love and joy, his rage, his pain and his sorrow, his confusion and his loss – into his work.

    And when all the lies and the untruths have faded with time, and those predators who even now pick at his memory like vultures to the bone have finished their feasting –

    That work will remain.

    On June 25th the world knew a unity of sorts. As if the whole world, for a moment, felt the slow agony of being that misunderstood, that lonely, and that betrayed. Michael is free now. He sings and dances amongst the worlds. In his leaving, becoming at once a symbol of our lost innocence and the possibilty of regaining that.

    And for those of us who know who, and what he was, and what he tried to do here – Michael Joseph Jackson will shine in our hearts for all time. I will not wave, I will say no farewells.

    The Immortals need no goodbyes.

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