My Literary Works For Michael

NEVERLANDPRINCESS, don't feel bad about FB people. Most of the people(not all) there just gossip and chat so their brains wouldn't be able to comprehend writings.

MJKIT is like a family to me and I'd love to share with them what I have on Michael.

Love your posts and I'm looking forward to read more of them.

MICHAEL'S COMMISSION

This innate commission,
To sing songs with verbatim,
Attuned to his elevated music within,
Crowning the King of Pop on him.

The enormous effect,
With all attention focused,
By the media to his fame,
Brought nothing but shame.

It's not about why he is famous,
But what he does with his fame and fortune,
He reaps the fruits of his talents,
For the creation of a worthy cause with silence.

He always says it hurts,
When he does so little for mankind,
Puts his life on the line,
Everytime he gives something divine.

He gave up his childhood,
For his songs, music and dance,
Through his charity for the world to have,
The childhood he never had.

With so much blessings and opportunities,
He gives to others like a duty,
No time for all the pity,
But engrossed with his responsibility.

The stifling antagonism,
Will never defile him,
The internal glow that scintillates,
The veracious virtues he relates.

His achievements are in perpetuity,
Ever accompanied by enmity,
But the sweet acrimony of it all,
Never a Waterloo to his call.

juliet, you are extremely talented. I would like to say which one is my favorite but I simply can't, because they are all wonderful! I love them.

Oh! YVELOVESMJ, deeply appreciate your comment . I have so much more to share.

THE MOMENT

The instance of his birth,
With the melody of his first cry,
Quaked the earth to open the door,
Of whom the angels do adore.

The family must have been in awe,
In his eyes they've seen the glow,
Of what he is destined to be,
Would make their dreams a reality.

Racism is within the society,
It's part that can't be defined,
For the color of this child brought,
Clarity to the whys of deny.

Consciousness steps in,
The awareness when he sings,
With the excitablility he brings,
To the equanimity he leans.

With such motions he engenders,
The magnificence of emotions,
Meanings in his exhibitions,
To the hearts of all sour-tempered.

To catch a glimpse of that second,
When one is never prepared,
Leads to numerous other seconds,
Of all truths that are pared.

Indeed there's magic in every moment,
On stage or on the streets,
Where all bondage is out to reach,
His escapades beyond belief.

It's MICHAEL and his every moment,
Are news of various enchantments,
Bewildered by his endearment,
Are the sour-tempered's predicament.

WRONGS AND CRIMES

One is born with certain identities,
But the difference always seem to tease,
Of the child in his young age would please,
To a change, for his love, he submits.

Must be difficult to grow up when he knows,
The confusion of love from others show,
He elates the public than his kin,
Be forever in his heart this ill will bring.

Is it wrong to have color on your skin,
When indifferences are left but to judge,
Rather unfair and not given any chance,
To gain respect from the different colored skin.

To go on with each day like a child,
Letting innocence be the judge as not to hurt,
To escape from friends that he thought,
With his life where his trust was just burnt.

Explanations demanded by their blurr,
Maliciously deferred the outsiders,
But his truth many times told have been scrambled,
Where many lies surprisingly have been tripled.

If a man is condemned as I told,
Then everyone in this world are so cold,
To live in their terms, MICHAEL has,
Oh! Please, JUSTICE keep the blindfold on your eyes.

THE ROAD WITH YOU

MICHAEL, please heed,
We know all the love you need,
We feel the pain from your friends' wrong deeds,
We will help to bring the truth that they hid.

You have all our love to surround you,
With the road that you take isn't easy,
Sometimes rough we can see and we don't mock,
Just remember our support will be tough.

All roads are never paved just the same,
Sometimes it forks out to some place with so much shame,
Makes you ponder to shy away from your fame,
Disregard not our sympathy is not lame.

Along the voyage so much hurdles you do face,
Discount not the weight of others on your shoulders,
What to do, when we stand on your side,
Are we blind to some things you decide.

Never easy for you and for us,
So we endow completely our hearts into your hands,
Lest your forget we take the steps with you on your road,
Forsake not, we are here not to load.

What will it take,
To keep you safe on your road,
We're here to stay,
Our love for you will never stray.

SECRETS AND LIES

The announcement of the death of Michael Jackson
was that devastating moment when the world stood still
in silence and in disbelief.

The confusion caused it all,
Where the loved one's hearts did fall,
Of whom Michael took the toll,
In complete silence, he scrolled his words.

Written, audio and video news,
Which one of them you have to choose,
When the moment of truth did lose,
To know of which one is the goose.

Several stories were written under the rock,
Where everyone awaits when water would struck,
The time will come when shame and hate,
Will surely overplay and it's too late.

I know not of, if they're shaped to be the same,
The secrets and the lies do take on their own wings,
But they know not, that our hearts can actually sing,
With all the love that Michael brings is everything.

How can it be, so please tell me now,
When the corpse presented has a shred of doubt,
The photos and footages seemed too familiar,
The facts and the time are never in line.

Can all the secrets and all the lies be just the same,
When their purpose to play is all in all under whose game,
The foreplay and the drama that they have is supposed to be the facts,
And all that follows thereafter coincides not.

Justification as well as clarification is direly needed,
But all is messed up in their manipulated scripted events,
Everything is lost that's what they want us to think,
They're stringing their secrets and their lies for their endless deals.

It's no longer funny when the emotions are being toyed with,
And the minds are being fed with different conspiracies,
May God have mercy on the souls who exploit,
The secrets and the lies will eventually snap back to the one who controls.

THE DEATH

There's always something new being stewed every single day,
From whoever wants to gain the most from June 25,
It's unbelievable the degree of greediness they take on,
And how gullible some seem to be when vulnerable.

The incessant wanting for more from the core,
Demonstrates how people value their own souls,
It's a pity that their conscience have been deadened,
That's THE DEATH that occured on JUNE 25.

THE VICTIMS OF JUNE 25

That day will never end it seems,
And the bereavement of the fans grow deep,
Reactions from Michael's close friends and family,
Is like a welcome to a more financial reality.

Death is a door to mankind's inner self,
In the ethers emotions can never be cheated,
The devastation is seen with the true loves of Michael,
The fans whose lives will mean less hereafter.

It's really beneath me to see the differences,
Between the fans, family, close friends and associates,
The fans in endless search for the truth,
The others in their endless schemes in distraught.

The inconsistent facts and details presented on that day,
Are the reasons to prove the fan's unwavering love to Michael,
Impossible is the death when certifications are far-fetched,
To the cover-ups they surely will unveil.

So much tears have been shed,
To so much doubt of his death,
There were no tears from his family,
Exposing their complete insincerity.

How can a man just be invisible,
When we know it's all too impossible,
The impact of JUNE 25,
Pictures amalgamations of people's desire.

My heart goes out,
To the real victims of that day,
Being exploited and manipulated
Of their true love contents.

The incongruent news,
Coupled with his familiar friends' smiles,
Bring undeserving insults,
To the being of Michael.

KIDDNERD, thank you for always appreciating my works. I tried to reply to your post earlier but I just couldn't get into MJKIT for over an hour. Sorry for the delay.

Anyway, I will post some more of my works later.

Thanks

WHAT HAVE THEY DONE

I am so much disheartened,
By the way mankind has been so hardened,
They are calloused to the truth,
Easily taken off their roots.

Why does it have to be this way,
When one man's simple happiness be,
Taken away by materialism,
When everything to him is humanism.

He has so much to give,
Apparently already so much given,
But time has passed so quickly,
And the sly has taken in so brazenly.

His life he knows is for the world,
His nature of love and sharing are insurmountable,
So many times he was pushed to err,
But his heart stood strong to bear.

The hurt they imbued was too much,
He never had the time to detach,
His devotion to the needs of the world,
Is the reason that kept him on strong hold.

His friends, family and associates,
Had their own selfish accolades,
The love and support he needed,
Are from his fan's love that's undivided.

So tell me - his friends, his family and his associates,
How do you live each night and each day,
Hasn't shame shown its face to you yet,
What you've been doing, are there no regrets?

With what you've done to this beautiful creature,
The multitude sure can picture,
You cannot hide from the malign you have caused,
Nature has a way of taking its course.

The felicity you enjoy at this moment,
Where he has to stay away and was pushed by your devourment,
Be wary because his fate has been paved,
His role in this world is divinely guided and will never be depraved.

He always says love never lies,
Of that you will never realize,
My creed on God who placed him on this world,
He has this heavenly protection from all your devious ploys.

With what you have done cannot be undone,
And you all know that he is the genuine one,
But are all your memories gone,
Have you forgotten he is the blessed one

PLEASE, TAKE MY HAND

These months have been very difficult,
Cause my heart is so clouded by defaults,
Though it's never ever your fault,
To go away is the real best result.

I have no knowledge as to how I'll get by,
To every minute of the hours of each day,
Your angel voice doesn't seem to resonate,
In the ethers in my loneliness I await.

There's no melody to bring the essence,
To your lyrics that only make sense,
Of how strong should my heart can beat,
To the distance that puts a bar in between.

I know I have to be strong,
Against the thorns to you have been thrown,
Wrong! Which is all the way wrong,
With my patience I have to hold on.

If it's safer for you not to stay,
Your decision then I do respect,
But please take securely of my hand,
For your strength will keep me from sliding into the sand.

The destiny you take when you stand,
Is the light you give to mankind,
The reminder that life is very real,
Wherein fate will definitely seal the deal.

The taste these devious men is so bland,
Can never change the sweetness that you bring,
The warmth of the grip of your hand,
Will steadfastly hold me til you again take your stance.

MY PRAYER FOR MICHAEL

Angel of the East,
Angel of the West,
North and South,
Do your best.

Protect our blessed Michael,
To do his quest,
Let not the evil minded,
Enter his nest.

Instill unto him,
The strength that will never dim,
Guide him through the path,
Where the evil can touch him not.

Blessed be all,
Who's there when darkness falls,
May they recall,
The wonders of his call.

Encompass the earth,
With the Divine Light,
To forever aid,
And warm his plight.

Blessed be GOD,
For all His Love,
We see in Michael's existence,
The meaning of Divine Providence.

THE SECRET, THE SERPENT AND THE RAINBOW

Secrets are part of our lives,
They mold us into an ace or disgrace,
Where conscience keeps us awake at night,
But our hearts save some from hurt and fights.

Who are we to say,
To those who cannot bear,
The consequences of words,
That sometimes act like swords

And here comes the serpent,
Who hisses his way through all,
Towards those who'll never,
Never fit into the shoe.

Conspicuously he comes,
The serpent with his tongue,
Who builds onto antipathy,
Slithering through the secrecy.

Then the facts get slimy,
To whom his skin sheds off,
Connecting as a friend,
But deceit is just its end.

Subconsciously men know,
As to how things should go,
But the serpent knows its way,
The ins and the outs of how to slay.

On this earth some do know,
Exists a bridge to heaven,
Connecting man's way from the earth,
From once we call the Eden.

Different colours beam,
From heaven's blessing stream,
Clearing the way towards harmony,
Cleansing the paths of absurdity.

The serpent's eyes get blinded,
And all of its bad works are aborted,
The divine energy from the beams,
Thaws out all the venom the serpent brings.

There's a man who has a purpose to connect,
The rainbows from above did select,
Destined from birth on this earth,
Through his own disarray the serpent play.

The prism of the rainbow this man holds,
Through the right and the wrong did he show,
The limitations in us should not deter,
The shovel that digs into the serpent's lair.

His experiences paved the way to connect,
Through the rainbow he clearly sees the defect,
Of man's ways that needs to be mended,
His music the serpent did detect.

It wasn't easy from the start of his life,
Which made him wiser every step of his stride,
To no avail did the serpent rebuild his lair,
Which scarred him through every step of his way.

This is my story of the secrets that men told,
Where all evil the serpent has a hold,
But the heaven beams down all the rainbow,
To this Michael the prism did dispel.

Through his works. good deeds and his creeds,
Opened the way to one end of the beam,
Where all colors of the rainbow did show,
The connection of the heaven to our earth.

THE SYNERGY OF MICHAEL

Amazement is his key to his insights,
Where he questions not the appearance,
For what he sees always teases,
His curiosity that leads to his creativity.

Seeing is to believing,
Thinking of what to show of his being,
His songs, music and his dance,
Feeds not enough to his emotions that overlap.

There must be more than the eyes can see,
And the lingering sounds that his voice decrees,
To unite what he feel on the stage,
With the audience seeing entirely through his space.

The synergy he has within,
Plus elements of the lasers and the streams,
The creation of one realm within,
To the understanding and the sense of illusion.

The visual entity must be complete,
Plus the computer technique to the beat,
Its design for ultimate audio and visualization,
Generates a realistic sensation.

The Synergy of Michael, that's what I call,
His construction of techniques that one befalls,
Different light scattered from an object that's recorded,
And reconstructed for more dimensional effects.

All the sight and the hearing are diffracted,
To a field that is synthesizingly elated,
This general illusion in his own art,
Alters the appearance of music, song and dance.

That defined, makes Michael very unique,
The visualization of his songs from his heart,
He elevates the element of his special music,
Seeing what we're hearing to all of his beat.

Inexplicable to be in different worlds at one time,
When he sings one song after another,
Then the amazement that he feels everyone feels,
Takes the space and the moment of Michael's enticement.

To be in a place where his singing takes,
Indescribably beautiful the enhancement relates,
Interpolating the lyrics to the meaning we see,
The stage and the arena in his dimension we reach.

So allured we become when we all can see,
The visuals of his emotions with the songs he sings,
Instilled into our memory his themes in trajectory.
This Synergy of Michael in its entirety revealed.

METAMORPHOSIS

Metamorphosis is apparently,
One of Michael's obsession,
From a particular thing,
Into a desired entity.

The transformation of himself,
To become anything else,
In a certain time and place,
For a specific speculation.

Always being noticed,
For every single thing,
At times to be different,
Is vital to make the difference.

It surely is helpful,
When he is not identified,
They are always on his skin,
Never knowing that he's in-between.

Being mysterious keeps him going,
From one character to another,
Becoming different things in different times,
Watching the reality being played.

To see the truth from various sides,
Brings completeness to his difficult life,
His identities are his keys,
To his world where no one sees.

His alterations are never expected,
But is surely to be commended,
To pass by the ravenous spies,
And be a part of the sloven eyes.

Juliet

Your words speak mountains and I know MJ would be so proud of you
girl. Well done

Juliet, I love your poetry.

MJonMyMind wrote:Juliet

Your words speak mountains and I know MJ would be so proud of you
girl. Well done

Thanks a lot MJONMYMIND. There's so much to say about Michael and words are just not enough.

Every word I write feels so much of Michael and sometimes I just can't stop writing.
It's good to know that I bring him out in my works and I really feel that I should do it. Something inside me tells me what to write about him so that people who don't know of him will be informed in a way.

Thanks again. I have a lot of works about him and I have to put them all in one place where everybody can just get into reading them when they feel like.

Stranger In Chi-town wrote:Juliet, I love your poetry.

Hey!! I'm glad you like them. I've sent you some of my works and I do hope you like them. I'll be sending you all of my works (ALL) and I have some more to give you.

Lots of huggsss,
J U L I E T ***

Stranger In Chi-town wrote:Juliet, I love your poetry.

Hey!! Glad you like my works. I've sent you some of my works and I do hope it did Michael justice. I'll be sending you some more of my works.

Lots of hugssss,
J U L I E T ***

STRANGERINCHI-TOWN, Thanks sooooo muchhhhhhh

This is my 3rd answer to your post and I guess the first 2 didn't enter.
Anyway, I hope you got some of my works and will send you my other works.

Lots of hugss,
J U L I E T ***

STAINED GLASS

Transparency and smoothness,
Commonly explain,
And taken for granted,
This vitrescence in a glass.

Upon birth of a man,
On that natal day,
The purity in one,
Is compared to a glass.

The strength one has,
Is a blessing entrust,
With the fragility, too,
Compose a man.

From the beginning of life,
To each day afterwards,
Will either be scraped or clouded,
The glass in a man.

Once it is carved in,
No eradication can bring,
To how it was glazy once,
From the origin God had given.

My heart is broken,
When the imprints can't be taken,
On the life like a glass,
That forever is left with marks.

But man's conscience and his heart,
Keep him stepping on forward,
To learn from his past,
Brought by the others and himself.

The disdain of the stain,
In one's life like a glass,
Brings the remorse of the past,
But makes one stronger along the path.

So be careful all of you,
Be always on your feet,
Let not your glass be with deceit,
Let not your glass be deplete.

All of what I said,
Michael has explained,
With his own life that's been on spread,
With stains he can never end.

But he keeps going on each day,
With the love in his heart,
Making sure that your glass,
Must never again be scratched.

THE GREATNESS IN A MAN

From the very first step of his performance,
His greatness was vividly seen,
His persona was a complete brilliance,
Vibrated through each musical scene.

The softness in his voice,
And the sweetness he emotes,
Are the judges of how much,
Such a greatness can flow.

Taking on responsibilities,
In spite of all the inflictions,
From that young age he showed,
The credibility of his greatness.

The media and music industry,
Had their eyes on him immediately,
This young boy who bravely,
Worked despite difficulties.

And as time went on,
Without a flicker on this boy who grew into a man,
His every word and every deed,
They all took on with their greed.

There are so many roadblocks,
But he never did stop,
With all the different faces in his past,
The more he worked harder to last.

Among his family, friends and associates,
The jealousy inside them increase,
They seek and find reasons,
To secretly and perpetually discriminate him.

All the scrutiny are rooted,
With this jealousy they greeted,
Thinking there will be a backlash,
To his sublime talent and success.

He never in this world gave up,
He has dignity and courage to pick him up,
Which is sufficiently an essential leverage,
To stand in front of their cruel outrage.

To all their surprise,
His fame did not wane,
Why such a reprise,
They're in denial that he is indeed great.

All the attacks on him,
Impugning his character,
Will never detract his way,
Towards aiding the ills of humanity.

Regardless of color,
Age, religion and sexuality,
His talent is the door,
To all his virtue of charity.

So, tell me, whoelse can be,
In his shoes, full of accusations and deceit,
Wherein he's always on his feet,
For his timeless charitable feats.

All the shame they have brought,
Can never and will never defame,
But pity on their souls that sought,
They are caught in their own devious flames.

Indeed, he is universally loved,
To a point where nobody can deride,
This veraciously defines,
The Greatness in our man, Michael.

THE PEN, MY HEART AND MICHAEL

This ink is the only way to communicate,
The blood that flows through my heart,
Words can't completely scribe,
The love that's been captured inside.

The color of my pen is black,
That explains of how far I've embarked,
The red is the color that palpitates,
The emotions that my heart dictates.

No replies as to the direction of the Where,
All denials as to the questions of the Why,
This pen is an extensionn of the What,
In this sheet that's to be proven or not.

Oh, my heart is in so much pain,
But my creed will never be in disdain,
My thoughts will always remain,
Where my virtue for you stays the same.

How it is to be in darkness, I do know,
And in my circumvent I feel it so,
The ponderings of where you might be,
Lead us to answers of where you'll be.

Only with our hearts we see the possibilities,
Of which are not in secrecy,
You have instilled in us, you see,
With the hope that's there to accompany.

What I have written cannot be erased,
So are you, Michael, you really must stay,
No matter how things may pulsate,
It comes from you, my heart does state.

THE POVERTY AND WEALTH OF A MAN

Every man is born,
With a certain uniqueness adorn,
From God who knows all,
What his path will befall.

Not every being is the same,
Wherein sometimes they do blame,
Of the differences that they see,
Among others who are more free.

In one's heart which is love,
That in certainty they do thrive,
To find that which is missing,
In the poor hearts of other beings.

Not just with materialism it pertains,
But also to inner feelings that we gain,
At times are shallow and empty,
Which we may also call poverty.

To be without love is futile,
It's like living without time,
To consider what's important,
For human beings to simply survive.

There's a man who I know,
Even when love isn't suffice,
He finds a place where he can relate,
To those who are in the same state.

He gives all that he can,
The emotions that are rare,
And he does not question why,
To our existence which are denied.

He finds out what is austere,
And provides without fear,
To fill up and not avoid,
In man's heart that is void.

He's blessed with a sublime talent,
In his daily life he is determined,
To always be grateful,
Of that gift which makes him useful.

Never takes things for granted,
Amassing resources that are provided,
With his every relentless effort,
Of giving charity his fort.

As poverty and wealth,
Are not just related to earth,
But the spirituality within,
Describes God's plan that leads back to Him.

This man who we know as MICHAEL,
Has both the poverty and wealth,
That as time passes by,
He can relate to what is right.

He takes the goodness in his heart,
When all things fall apart,
With the creed to proceed,
Where charity is his main deed.

In our world with so much pride,
Hurting each other in every stride,
How to make that certain change,
Through his art he must prevail.

Numerous races he takes a pity,
Where no one cares to aid the many,
Who are without love, is the greatest illness,
Where he works harder to get more resources.

Among his associates who are so green,
Of how he reaps without chagrin,
That certainly he can't be chafe,
To those who squirm just like a snake.

Mind you, he's not at all harebrained,
To those chaff that has been written,
They are flaccid to such a degree,
So miniscule to his resiliency.

Yes, nothing will disengage him,
His affinity to the unfortunate,
They will never impede the will,
Of God's love when He created man.

THE POLARITY OF MICHAEL

Surely when he was born,
The North and South had to behold,
The East and West and all the rest,
Have seen the charisma that was bequeath.

Through all the years,
Tears were seen,
Of pure love and joy,
And of jealousy and detest.

The different tears,
Which held people together,
Grouped the multitude of watchers,
Into lovers and haters.

The sounds of the news,
Grumbling in dissipation,
Would mix with admiration,
Of those with sweet perception.

What draws them to him,
No one can fathom,
That certain aura,
Like rainbow shines.

The rainbow collision,
Of all ages and color,
Is somewhat magical,
And to others lethal.

Whether insulting or complementing,
The people are magnetized,
To whatever he symbolizes,
The sense that epitomizes.

The exigency of emotions,
Sometimes can't be dealt,
For that instantaneous moment,
Of his exquisite musical executiion.

It's his passion that emits,
The magnetism that permits,
All infatuation, craze and rage,
To follow him beyond all range.

Such a Polarity that is in Michael,
The endless stories that are tremendously there,
Maybe abject, genuine and oblique,
But it all accounts to his own destiny.

THE GAME

From the beginning, as always, he was so trusting,
Never doubted his inner emotions,
Very obedient and always giving,
His very all to please their affections.

He worked harder more than the rest,
To prove his best even to himself,
Always getting better never to detest,
Demonstrating all of his selflessness.

But people knew control and they did the call,
Of which he couldn't fight even when he's right,
But haste was never there to test his talent,
Of what he did learn as time was benevolent.

He then realized the game people played,
Using him as a pawn for their barefaced implore,
He watched and studied all of their moves,
Their schemes of greediness that their hearts did prove.

Insufficient to them, his time and his deeds,
Always asked for more, to feed their greed,
Ignoring the sentiments that he can feel,
As a pawn that slides, stepping on his pride.

Chaos in his mind to what is right,
But his heart is the strength, he learned how to fight,
In his songs are the messages to level the sight,
Of how to survive is the comprehension of life.

To see himself with the rest of the world,
Where the game involves those whom we call wolves,
Then compassion takes in, to his conscience of love,
Where the sufferings of others are tended more than his own.

They are relentless to all their schemes of darkness,
Never with the thought that he's aware of their prances,
They are so blind, they can't see the light,
He reflects upon people, helping them with their plight.

This game they're playing with Michael is incessant,
From his childhood til the present makes them so very daft,
They have brought shame to themselves so dense to admit,
The need for Michael, to the skin of their teeth.

Consequences he faced with an upright supreme,
The integrity within, he kept from their screams,
Protecting his loved ones from such monstrosity,
From their unending pace, for his loved one's esteem

THE DOT AND THE LINES

A line is an extension of a dot,
And a dot has to be defined and sturdy,
Where the ability and the existence,
Of different lines would originate.

A dot cannot be weak,
Cannot be made into other things,
It's the definite decision,
To the creation of many things.

It's the point of creativity,
That takes the intelligence of man,
Into the craftsmanship he has,
Innately be an astonishment.

Numerous variations,
With the inability of others,
Who incessantly try,
To take the same point as the dot.

But the directions they choose,
The emanation is not the same,
As the originality of this dot,
Is not to be replicated.

With this I want to cite,
Explicate and expound,
The impact of this certain dot,
The special person, MICHAEL, who is with us,

This dot's the loadstone,
For so many different plots,
With their own desultory contestations,
Results to the dot's magnanimous exposition.

No matter how hard they try,
To eradicate this special dot,
They simply just cannot,
Because Michael is destined for that special spot.