begins in my heart
and the 80’s would not have mattered
without his music on my record player
every day spinning my world
from falling apart. A special shelf
built for my music, on the wall the posters of his sexy face. Most people loved him then,
but I wanted to marry him.
Illogical girly desires
his passion for music set mine aflame.
I read his lyrics like a book of poetry
copied them, added, invented,
memorized them.
Nothing saddened me more
than how his death brought
me closer to mine.
How in one moment we are here
sitting in Place des Arts listening
to Piano & a Microphone show
and weeks later
glued to the tv over Prince’s death.
His life and legacy flashing before our eyes
I have a few incredible videos I taped from that show.
This is not really a poem.
Just my thoughts
exploding with sadness
over the connection that this one man
made through music.
I feel like there is so much more to say
but better left unsaid
the way he liked it.
Comments:
9
He would have loved this.
Well done.
This is beautiful Chrissy! He would have been honored.
I heard about him yesterday, coming home from my date. I couldn’t figure out which “prince” had died. I thought they were talking about somebody across the pond.
When I realized they were talking about “our Prince” I thought….”no. He’s too young.”
So sad. I remember pretty woman singing to his music in the bathtub and being so sad when I heard his song about doves crying.
He will be missed…..a diminutive man who stood so tall.
I know, still shocked!
Thank you for sharing your heart with me, Poetess. <3
Beautiful tribute, Chrissy.
Reblogged this on The Militant Negro™.
It’s my pleasure.
If you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’m here for you, always. ((((Big Hugs)))))