This was supposed to be a poem. See, I write poems. Poetry has sometimes served me, at other times, saved me. But poetry, alone, can not deliver me from the awful truth. Poetry alone is not enough to touch upon the passing of Prince Rogers Nelson. lmr
The world knew him as "Prince" Fitting name. In many ways, he was, indeed, Royalty.
I called him "Princeton", because his music, his presence, his being, his talent, it was all an education. He schooled me. He schooled all of us. He taught us how to be our most authentic selves. He taught us how to be relevant within this ever-changing world. He taught us, well, we Creatives, how to be Real Artists.
Yes. Prince was all dat and a Big, Big Ole, Humongous Purple Bulky Bag of Brilliant Stars.
It is more than just hard; it is virtually impossible to conceive that he is really gone.
For those of us who came late to the party ( pre-"I Wanna Be Your Lover," pre- "Controversy," "1999" and the rest of the early jams), the film"Purple Rain" became the vehicle in which we boarded the cool carnal Corvette that was Prince.
He was different, wasn't he? All pompadour'd pretty; all fierce and feline and ferociously talented. He was an Edwardian revelation, part rocker, part soul man, part something we had never witnessed before.
By the end of the film, he didn't have to tell us, or sing and dance or proclaim himself "Baby, I'm a Star", we knew it. We watched the dawning of not only a star, but a Super Nova right there before our eyes.
He left it all on the stage, or the screen... on wax, in our heads, in our souls, in our consciousness.
It is indeed a rare thing of beauty, when God Grants So Many Gifts To One Single Human Being:
The whole world shifted to his seismic talent. It was Epic:
Singer, songwriter. dancer, performer, multi-instrumentalist. Oh my!
He stood just 5'2... and he was still a Giant.
The music will forever be his legacy.
For well over thirty-five years he aroused us, surprised us, beguiled us, confused us, confounded us, instructed us, mystified us, beautified us, rectified us, and we, the diehard fans of His Purple Badness, remained, always, his hungry audience.
Since his passing so many celebrities have spoken, some quite sincerely broken by his death, most claiming to be his close "friend".
They are legions of them.
This seems dubious. I'm not so sure Prince would claim that massive army of people he had met, spent time with, engaged with and conversed with or even inspired, to be his Real Friends. I mean, if that were true, when and just how would he had found so much time and energy and passion to create the massive catalogue that is his legacy?
But maybe that was part of his magic. People wanted to claim him. People were so drawn to his magnetic brilliance that they felt anointed and special to be in his company. If that is so, then we can chalk this up to yet another of Prince's gifts.
In the end, it will not matter at all how he died. Sad, yes, most definitely. But will it really matter how he died? I think not. Instead, it will only matter what he did with his Life, and how he lived. Oh! How he LIVED!
In the end... it matter most of all... just what he gave us, and what he left behind.
He was our Mozart He will be studied for many generations after we've all gone.
He was our Shakespeare and our sonnet-writer.
He was Little Richard and James Brown. He was Jackie Wilson, and Michael Jackson and Joni Mitchell, and even a bit of Whitman. He, too, sang our bodies electric.
And yet, he was always His Most Authentic Self!
We are so Blessed that he shared his multitudinous gifts with us.
He gave us a heady soundtrack to accompany us on this journey.
He gave us beauty.
He gave us wings.
And so, I choose not to say goodbye.
Instead, to Prince Rogers Nelson, I choose to say:
Goodnight, Sweet Prince(ton), and Thank You.
In fact, we thank God For You!
copyright © 2016 by L.M. Ross