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Oddity 

These leaves are brushing

Boisterous answers like plans

Man is boy stirring again

A grin is winning in his forever land

Took a glitter fair and pouring 

The million times you were not boring

A waking of feverish lips

Kissing hell and heaven in moments

The mirror kills the moisture 

Like a bus load of destinies 

Eyes in seats of gold 

This headless paper God remnant

Not his hands. Not his feet.

Never can there be a repeat.

Please take a seat. 

Dropping silhouettes and dreaming

Paragon surrendered 

Feathers to shoulders ache

The duke is still so very awake 

Not a minor development here

Toward the stars a dusty skill

A glow of brilliant bright fleeting teeth 

A chattering beneath 

To sea a free bird, a lad

Insane the reflection reversing

A birthing the man trembling but changing

Perfect in every single way 

Like he was every ordinary day

An oddity in a collective display 

The fading is only in an instant

Regality is persistently to be

Forever our David Bowie.
For the glorious Thin White Duke.
A tribute to one of the most influential artists to ever be.
(C) 2016 Christopher 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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