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Filagree

Filagree.

Pages leak wisdom
This face is an offering again
Like expression can be red
I’m failed in twine tonight
A just fool suckling
Torn in ten million sentences
Eating fear is shaming
Terrain for worn feeling
Warn that precious light
Across derivatives
A mouth spread open
Ages ago these words a circle
Spill the paper’s wound
The remnants of dementia
Like in August you scream
A womb with stones
These arms and legs
A broken morning
I run across the end of this
As faith is breeding painful
Again a filagree shines
These hands kill simple
My heart is an engine divine.

2015 Chris Vaughn

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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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