Bowie Poems

the look of you in my David Bowie t-shirt

i swore to myself
when i saw who she became
that i would never want a domestic life,
i would never settle down.
but the simple act,
of holding you,
listening to the sounds of your sleeping
as you lay in my purple David Bowie t-shirt
two sizes too big,
i think i changed my mind.
i want a life with you.
i don't care if

There Is Mercury, Or Maybe Bowie, Jagger Or One of the Others

You dream as you turn the pages of lasagna and the thin voices of your parents behind the wall 
That man is there, the fluff, the sequins of his overcoat 
A strange angle to challenge your religion, you can’t really see the eyes from this flash  

As a child you stared, and now you

The Angel On the Mantel

the angel on the mantel 
comes from an old wagon road 
that cuts from desert brush
into the burnished hills
where creosote breaks up and scatters 
at the base of the Chiricahuas
where Fort Bowie Calvary slaughtered 
Apache braves
where an old cancerous man treks
miles of primitive trail
into the heart of a sacred mountain
for pure white marble, cut into

Goodbye Spaceboy - For David Bowie

you went supernova
with oddly
an oddity about space
that tied in with the moon landing
and your course was set.

you questioned the existence 
of life on Mars
created a persona, and wife
the Stardusts 
sung of the prettiest one.

loved the alien
illogically were afraid of Americans
got high
got low
crashed the same car many times.

ultimately not the chaos
but the cancer
the chameleon called
the changeling

Camouflaged

I am the master of bedevil, the salt upon the meat
I am the cognitive in the incognito who can convincingly repeat
Each mood, each move, each song to be replete
With authenticity, synchronicity, electricity and beat
I am the master of presentation with the prowess of display
I am the rendition in the music, the soul, the core to

Tribute To David Bowie

David Bowie hears his own music, so he designs his own clothes.
An artist, they say in awe, giving him a wide berth.
He cannot be duplicated, but can any of us? I stare at his beauty.
Sure he is handsome, but something more.

There is a magnificence about him that is not easy to see.
He sparkles like his

The Thin White Duke An Ode To David Bowie

And you think you are fine 
Till they say they want more
And you know you’re not quite right 
You want to be sure
Who would have thought 
Your world would end
As you unwind the string
You don’t want to pretend
I can’t be who you want me to be
My feet are bound to the floor
You leave me twisting

Thank You David Bowie

Suffering always clogged my heart
Grim visaged was my soul
Eyes dim, shoulders a heavy laden cart
Never a day rose, that I felt whole
Til an image too close, slashed me awake
I braved the plunge, put this rot on paper
Felt change trickle, not just therapy fake
Now, I gather up my words
Not worrying  of form or labour
And let

David Bowie

I wish you peace starry child

As you face the final cut

Resonating Black Star dust

Strumming on gods guitar

In touching distance of the gates

We're the light your soul awaits

Rest in peace

Never forgotten

Because i know you blew our mind's

And left us in uncertain times

A Different Eye, When I Think of David Bowie

A DIFFERENT EYE 
(When I Think of David Bowie)

When I think of David Bowie, 
every song he sung was showy.
He was sinewy, not doughy, 
cause the white stuff was so blowy.  

Yet his music was amazing, 
and the concepts were so blazing.
He could sing and act while crazing,
in the phantom vision's mazing.  

Bowie,

David Bowie

Dreary death comes with fatal style,
A glimpse forlorn as light goes out;
View confronts sum in weary smile,
Imprint now torn with scream and shout;
Dust to dust then moans passage home.
Boost message clear but not of fear,
Orphaned just when old soul once roamed;
Wrong or right here yet cling to cheer,
Instruct grim times upon the way;
Exhume vain pains

Truly Odd, a Bowie Thing

something strange to earth was sent
dropped some art then simply went
now lonely spiders left on mars
watch red shoes dance on dusty stars
and walls of televisions sing
sweet things about the rebel king
the lad insane, the skinny duke
androgynous inspired fluke
flight of peacock, coloured flash
funkin’ funky ash to ash
china diamond, cold as god
genuinely, truly odd

by gail

What Would Bowie Do

In my days of turmoil,
When I feel confused and blue
I ask myself a question:
"What would Bowie do?"

How would the Starman handle
This situation quite mundane?
Will I get an answer
From the old Aladdin Sane?

I was playing Ziggy
For the millionth time,
When the sky had turned
A shade of rosé wine.

In his shiny tin can
Crashing from the stars,
He landed in

David Bowie

This idol, this man holds a place in my heart. 

He speaks of Ziggy Star Dust and Major Tom, so I don't know were to start. 

He played as a king of a goblin land. 

Watching and listening to him makes me crumble like sand. 

David Bowie s melodies and performances are genuinely an art.

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