When David Bowie passed away, I immediately took to the
page and penned ‘Rise, Lazarus, Rise’. It was one of the only ways I knew how
to organize my feelings, the ache I felt when the world lost him. My bud
Kiersten asked me to write something together (as we’d done back in our uber
creative myspace days), in honour, only I had already finished my initial poem.
Nevermind I told her, I’ll do another one.
She melded two fantastic photos Bowie together and wrote
out a poem of her own. It isn’t something she approaches with ease so I am
quite proud of her for completing the task.
We share a title yet wrote from two different hearts about one colossal sadness.
Future Legend Forward
(Nic)
convulsive
dancers rival
an androgynous
lithe form
in glittered
skin-tight jeans
a dire agent
orange mullet
to match a
dead-eyed malaise
vintage
punctuation
bold character sketch
surge of paraded
peril
frenzied in outer-space
genres bent
damned odd
trails forged
proto-iconic
perfect for
our confused
age
to ultimately arrive
impotent
via a drowsy nostalgia
of dissonant
art-rock
to art-direct his own
ascension
& break free
from
the end of days
*****
(Keeks)
Eyeliner drawn
across taut lids
A smattering of
blue glitter
Shimmering
silver platform heel boots
Electric blue
feather boa
smelling of his
sister’s perfume
Emulating a
starman
“You’ve got your
mother in a whirl…
She’s not sure if you’re a boy or a girl..”
Pounding beat
He sees him
Long desired
first taste
Freedom born of Stardust
Spinning lights
Trail blazing
sparkling icon
Gender bender
Decades gone
still pure
rebel
His paintbrush
tells tales
of torn dresses and
getting to
church on time
blue jean, china girls, and white
dukes
Gutted
Eyeliner and
feather boa
To honor the end of days
