Saturday, 18 February 2012

Two Poems for Whitney


Beautiful Innocent Thing 

The earliest voice, the purest beginnings

It was like this at the start. You can see in the photo
the blithe young woman in the yard in Newark
looking over the fence out into the world.

On her face, complete joy, equipoise,
the softness that precedes
the grit needed for a best work

even when she already was the best
what she did in her life
an expression of singing so ebullient it surpassed being

it flew away, flew her away, flew us away with it.
A trip to the moon without a ticket back.
Like that. Exactly like that.

After wards, way  past this, the slow low pull of drugs and booze.
All the news. The insatiable, what could not be sated,
a story about the not enough,

the never enough and the more of that. Like that.
The low tow with no where to go.

In the end what remains is what began.
 The jamming, sweet-noted woman
angel faced, sweet smiling, her sounds like the sea

immeasurable, it is so, we have no measure for this
not this time, it is as fine as it gets, yes

oh my yes, everybody knew
the beautiful innocent thing

© Charlene Langfur

Houston funeral security tight, fans told stay home
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Charlene is an organic gardener and a graduate of the S.U. graduate writing program.
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Last Song

Do you remember when I tried to hold on?
I thought the ride was worth the fall,
then loneliness would call ...

I was livin’ in that fantasy world;
couldn't get you out my head,
now I'm dead.
Never should have met you, baby.

Ooh, I kept on losin' control!
Couldn't get enough,
 to chase those blues away—
Say you wanna dance, wanna dance ...

Bittersweet is all I take with me—
special brew put the fire in me.
I wish I didn’t like it so much;
don't let it take away my dignity.

Where does my broken heart go?
Can I find my way?

Will He take this heart of mine into His hands?

I know He loves me with more love
than I've ever seen.
Whether I'm right or wrong,
Yes indeed! Jesus loves me.

I've got to get ready—just a few minutes more.

This is my last song.

Gonna get that old feeling,
 when I walk through that door ...

© Kat Mortensen

Stars To Perform At Whitney Houston's Funeral
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Kat is a Canadian poet, and the author of 'Shadowstalking'. Currently, her poems can be read at Kat Mortensen Poetry

4 comments:

  1. "the slow low pull of drugs and booze" -- that perfectly describes what we saw in Whitney Houston and what we've seen in others closer to us, unfortunately

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  2. I like your Last Song for Whitney, Kat. The whole creative artist thing with 'drugs' and 'paparazzi' and 'image' needs to change. It is such a destructive road to travel. It has wrecked oh so many gifted professionals. "Where does my broken heart go? Can I find my way?" says it all. Nice write.

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    Replies
    1. Thanks, Linda. It was, for me, the best way to write a tribute to her.

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  3. To the moon with no ticket back ... that's good. I think she gave too much of herself early on. Thought the ride was worth the fall ... indeed.

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