My Tributes To Michael Jackson (Mj, The King Of Pop) Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

My Tributes To Michael Jackson (MJ, The King of Pop)

Preface

Can one sit calm and quiet without taking the name of the pop icon, the pop legend, without paying tributes to the master? The answer is ‘no'. We know it that he is no more in this world. But the number of his admirers has not lessened it. His dance styles still now the people talk of. But controversies did not leave him behind, went on dogging him. His behaviour was held in askance and it was a subject to questioning.
I do not know why I wanted to dedicate some poems to him, written in his honour, but have, without bothering about the outcome. Can my poetry not snap the photos of his dance? Can I not capture his dancing poses and postures? This much is enough for me and my poetry.

I search for the Jackson House
In Gary, Indiana,
See the photograph of it,
Retracing his African-American origin
Of being born in a working class
And the family of musicians
Tracking the musicals
With Jackie, Tito, Jermaine and Marlon.

The Jackson House,
The albums and performances of his,
Dubbing as King of Pop,
Popularizing the moonwalk, the robot
And his change over to
In make-over
As a gentleman stylist, modern and fashionable
To stoking of controversies.

I see the earlier photos of his
And comparing with those of
After plastic surgeries, feel it,
How does he appear to be in appearance,
His voice girlish, nasal-nasal
And the dance
Failing the transgenders
In the realization of the self and feeling of delight
Through music.

-------Bijay Kant Dubey

Michael Jackson

I saw him dancing,
Signing
As a pop singer,
A pop dancer,
A songwriter
Taking the world in his stride
Catching the beats of his music,
The rhythms of speech
In his dance and its thrills.

Michael Jackson Come Here, Come Here, Michael, Called He

Michael Jackson, come here; come here, Michael,
Said he, called he
And lo, I too reached the plot
With my antics,
The beat and rhyme of Michael Jackson.

O, Michael, Michael, come here, come here, Michael,
Said he, called he
And went I hearing
As he called me spontaneously
With Michael in my heart and soul!

Michael, Michael, you come here, come here, Michael,
Said he, calling ironically
Though I was not,
But the mood was one of dancing
Pose and posture, the thrill as such!

Remembering the great master of dance,
Break dance, rock and roll, pop and jazz,
I too turned jazzy, pop,
Started rocking and rolling the things,
Taking into my stride it all.

Danced I just remembering him,
Breaking the limbs, the torso from the bust
And the bust from the torso,
A Jackson,
Jackson turned I into with the rock and rhythm.

Michael Jackson, Michael Jackson, come here
Even though I was,
I went dancing,
Breaking the limbs,
Upping the hat, shaking the goggles!

O, Michael, Michael, you our love,
Our love,
Said he,
Said he in a sonorous voice,
Michael, Michael, come here!

Poetry As The Dance Of Michael Jackson

Jackson dancing on stage
And I trying to capture the poses and postures
Of MJ
In my poetry,
The dance of the King of Pop.

Can anyone break and sing
And dance like him
Moon walking
Sometimes boyish-boyish,
Sometimes girlish-girlish?


For Michael Jackson

Michael Jackson in the goggles
And the hat
Hiding half the face
And with the hair long
Dancing,
Dancing and breaking,
Breaking the limbs
And dancing, dancing
At the beats of music
MJ
The King of Pop.

In Imitation Of Michael Jackson

Just saw I him
In the photograph
And started I dancing,
Hearing his name,
Michael Jackson,
Seeing his image
Hanging on the wall,
Such had been the magic of his name
And his rhythm of dance and music.

With the cap overhead
And the goggles on the eyes
And a handkerchief tied around the neck,
I going,
Going and going,
Coming not,
A dancer in motion
And emotion.

Dancing on the ways
And going,
Waving at and kissing from far,
Making the people dance
And going,
Breaking the body
Like a gymnast,
My bust, my torso
Cut off, hanging onto
And adding to again naturally,
Appearing to be so.

The earth behind the legs slipping,
Michael Jackson dancing,
The boots swerving and slipping
And getting balanced,
The dance is as such,
Making the dead stand on feet,
Jackson is Jackson,
Michael Jackson,
Hats off to him,
Salute you, Michael Jackson.

Michael Jackson, Where Are You?

Michael Jackson,
Sire,
Where are you,
I want to dance like you?

Hats Off

Hats off,
Hats off to you,
You, sire,
Michael,
Michael Jackson,
You breaking the limbs,
Breaking
And dancing!

MJ

Just the tributes to you
In the form of
A bouquet of flowers
By your photograph.