#5 : THE DEATH OF A LONELY POP STAR.

‘Birth’

They never call, never-ever,
Naked on the wall,
Splattered on the salt-flats of the taken.
Life of odours and smells,
Dirty crass magazines,
She was the pop star
Rhyming her songs for dimes,
Silting through hoops of fire
Shifting through lines of white mire.
Dirty –dirty, the dozen of them so dirty.

It’s not strange,
The ways of the famous stage.
Money so sweet, cars with beats
Wallets with feet.
Running faster and faster
Towards the nearest sinking ships exit fleet,
He runs faster.
He runs harder.
Not you- not me, not the underage teens.
She was running the life of a pop star,
Her Songs playing on the juke boxes of every wayside bar.

‘Walk’

The woman in the photograph,
With hair like a Greek queen
And a smile carved of plasticine,
Walking with the dozen
Posing and craving the bulb light,
Magazine covers for the in-flight.
Dirty dances joining
The mile high.
She is the grace in the photograph:
“The Princess of Pop” in the brightest colours it says
Ravaged newspapers running
Alongside her neon ways.

Six, and she played her first tune,
Eleven and she formed she first brigade,
Ageless, the method of her songs,
Lucid and deathly her lyres cry.
The sweetness of candles aware of their own death,
The grace of a pop star not in love with pride.
Eighteen, angels emerged where the squawk
And the bustle of a town once stood.
Eighteen she discovered wheels and
She discovered flight.
Eighteen she discovered Icarus.

'Death’

A haze of winters and summers,
Defiance of wishers and players,
All passing by the narrow doors
That defined a home,
The narrow doors of a bus,
The narrow doors of a stadium,
Of time in slow motion.
The haze of life given
To the power of death.

A few words that inspired a million tears,
A few silences that broke a million hearts,
“The Greatest That Ever Lived”
Twenty seven and discontinued,
Twenty even and platinum,
Twenty seven and dead.
All the fingers pointed to her,
Fame the antidote to despair,
Fame the great healer,
Twenty seven,
She witnessed the death of a lonely pop star,
She walked again.
Somewhere better, somewhere sweeter, somewhere softer.