remembering tupac

the "anniversary" comes round again. 14 years ago tupac and friends saw the tyson vs seldon fight, and headed out afterward, to party. they never got there, because 2pac was shot on the way. it truly is a sad sad event to commemorate, because he was truly cut down in his prime. its a shame that the murderers of this vile act were never caught, just as the monster who shot my cousin remains free. yet i am certain that at the end of ages, all these mysteries will become plain. in the mean time, we celebrate a man who left enough to remember him by.

i have never said that tupac was a hero - i doubt that he ever wanted or set out to be one. what i have always loved is his message: of love, of truth, and the passion in his delivery. i have since discovered his poetry, and his activism. i guess he had no choice but to stand tall, being the son of whom he was. i respect that his music remains fresh in a age when creativity has become a formula.

words from a fan (for tupac shakur)

Your words have often
Been the seeds of my reflection,
Introspection,
Quiet consideration of my situation
When life finds me happy
Or low, between the places
That torment my soul,
I play back the words that you wrote
Not so long ago
And know that this struggle is not mine alone.

Bless heaven that I
Have never starved a day
Without the meal to make me whole again
But I feel your thoughts on poverty just the same,
There’s something real in the way you say
A hungry man is in pain
That touches me, as though you told my own misery
So eagerly with your passionate sincerity.

Even thugs need affection too
That’s why you never hesitated to do
A song for the lover in you
That’s why you wrote verses so beautiful
You never felt too cool
To speak the truth
You kept it real in your poetry
Never afraid to draw controversy
By talking about the ones you love.
Love, the foundation of us all
So I speak of my affections and stand tall
Like you, a man whose heart
Is never too tough to feel
- love is real.

I know you tried to teach the youth
To take responsibility for what they do,
But no one listens to thugs like you
Not when they live the way that you used to do
Scrapping and rapping like a crazy goon.
Fighting, shooting, drawing heat
Kicking a ruckus on every street
Speaking of death with passion,
The inevitability of our passing.

And now, no longer in this world of men
You took one last tortured breath
You made your way into Death’s
Dark den,
Finally to find the rest that you have earned
Until the final moments of time when
When all men must meet again
You’re alive in the words that you spoke and scribbled with your pen
You’ll be living in our memories until the very end.

Rest in Peace Tupac Shakur.

(c) olawunmi 1907.13092006

(this is a repeat of an earlier post that i first put up years ago)