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fader.

 

fader.

 

i walk and run this light burning

across a chorded ballast prime

shake my fading treelike stance

pillow in my full stomach spin

a moan worse than mom’s cry

yesterday or months ago quake

periods seem blacker than me

than weeks that i sit standing

breathing intake exhausting ache

blooming knots in brains stem

crooked caulked up wall thing

every meaning is built in siding

leaning the smoke tower heat

i’m a beaten brat bowing low

on carpet coals fueling slow

traps caking plaque stemming

find the silk in sequential old

dreams woe pill a sugar seed

fangs seethe sanctuary knees

unquiet rep a stoic filter glow

stop still my puncturing eye

afraid to level ahead a cargo

shaven hands lengthened face

a fluid gallons trim multitudes

times your waist to shatter

a mirror outlook is palatial

gross the love flooding out

times this missing feeling me

aged a lonely tile on a floor

a parked stray looking away

if i am missing a piece today

i’ve fallen from the puzzling

more or less lost the race

a bulb broke on the dark path.

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About Christopher Vaughn

Born in Allentown, Pennsylvania in 1971 and moved all over the world as a military brat, my first venture into writing occurred in my heart early in childhood when I became obsessed with science fiction books by Jules Verne, Dan O Bannen, Isaac Asimov and Ray Bradbury. It was early elementary school when I discovered Robert Frost and his pen struck me. I was wanting to be in the worlds he painted. After several honors English classes and more obsessive reading of Madeleine L'Engle and Stephen King, I knew writing was a calling. In the 80's I was also enamored with electronic bands Depeche Mode and Front 242 and seminal bands like Skinny Puppy and Click Click which influenced my writing as well. In the 90's I was transformed when I discovered Clive Barker, he was the total package. Artist, Painter, Sculptor, Writer, Poet, Director...I became a survivalist writer. A term I coined by the nature of writing through feeling...letting go of the negative and hurt. Which if you are a poet, is what you do. It's not all just about creative churning. It's letting out what you feel inside of you. I continue to write poetry, short stories and lyrics to survive...

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