Spiders delivered through flames

· by · in dVerse, free verse, poetry. ·

My bones were once lighted with stars,
and with God given ass; making love
my fingers caressed your careless guitars.
I foresaw what humanity sowed
but I gave shit, injecting my veins
with poison and to the poems I bowed
to the young ones, my lunatic fans.

But when spiders delivered through flames
are eating your liver, I am gone.
The embers of fire is lost, I’m leaving
and you’re lost to the coldness of space
I’m Ziggy and now I won’t be long
as Lazarus never will raise from his bed
on the day of my execution
the stars have turned black for my song,
and somewhere forever a wardrobe is closed

The smiling spider by Odilon Redon

The smiling spider by Odilon Redon

Today we have KB at dVerse who wants us to write a persona poem, and what better than to use the persona Ziggy Stardust. Coming to save the earth he got absorbed into sex drugs and rock&roll… Now the voice of David Bowie is silent for ever… here is last video if you haven’t seen it.

Jan 12, 2015

44 responses to “Spiders delivered through flames”

  2. Bjorn, would you consider sending me your personal email address–mine is annotating@aol.com. The reason I ask you this is that I have noticed your writing has taken a turn, a new thrust of insight, or at least a desire to go beyond the confines of what you have been doing in the past and I would like to give you my general impressions and perhaps some unsolicited suggestions and don’t feel a public forum is the place to do that. Mind they will be less specific and more generalities in nature. Of course you need not feel it necessary to know what I think and that is alright too. Smiles…>KB

  4. Now THAT’S what I’m talking about! You broke the mold with this one, baby. Talk about giving in to the dark side …

    This is the speaker in your poem, I think:
    http://weheartit.com/entry/218658042

    He’s become immortal. So he has every right to be all feisty and moody. I see him as a vampire. He won’t be raised from the dead because he’s just going to stay dead … and love it. That’s what happens when you’re just that good … you’ve earned the right to talk down to and spit on everyone around you. And somehow, your fans will just scream louder and beg the honor of drinking your sweat. But vampires don’t sweat, now do they? No. But musicians do. Super sexy, man.

    I love the image of spiders going through flames and surviving. That is rad.

    These are my favorites:
    the first three lines
    “with poison and to the words I bowed
    to the young ones, my lunatic fans”
    “on the day of my execution
    the stars have turned black for my song”

    The wardrobe was a nice touch as well. Makes me think of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. So maybe you’re trying to say that the portal is closed. But I actually think that once it’s closed on the outside, it opens wider on the inside. You know what I mean? The door is closed to the bedroom … but open to the big wide world of snow in Narnia. I love that witch, by the way. She’s the coolest, dishing out her Turkish Delight in tiny, hard-earned increments. She sure makes Edward work for it. No wait, it’s Edmund. … Or maybe it’s the other way around … closed to Narnia, open to the bedroom, to the game of hide-and-seek currently in play. … Well, that’s some of what I see, anyway. Spiders are so groovy in literature (just not in my house!).

    You should record this one, for sure.

  5. Remarkable. and though his physical voice is stilled, I still hear him saying these words from Eliot…
    Would it have been worth while,
    To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
    To have squeezed the universe into a ball
    To roll it towards some overwhelming question,
    To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
    Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—

    I like the lines in your poem:
    the stars have turned black for my song,
    and somewhere forever a wardrobe is closed

    You know how much of an admirer of Bowie that I am. This poem is a wonderful tribute. It is perfect.

  13. Definitely a bit of discomfort in this poem, but that is a good thing. I think you have written a fitting and unique tribute to the artistic David Bowie. Yes, his wardrobe is now closed….as will all of our wardrobes some day. It seems he knew when his time was coming to an end. The timing for the release of his album was uncanny. I cannot watch the Lazarus video…it creeps me out. I prefer to remember his earlier music.

  18. A powerful paean that honors Bowie & rocks the prompt, inspiring me to jump on persona poetry with both booted feet. KB can be a taskmaster; hope we can rise to his expectations.

  19. A terrific tribute to David Bowe ! I admire the use of stars, from the bones of the day of execution ~ His wardrobe, his mad verses, his music will leave on among his devoted fans ~ The ending lines are my favorites ones Bjorn ~

  21. And on second read, I like this even better. The bolts on the bandage was a bit disturbing but so very Bowie. I was thinking of Narnia the other day when watching Lazarus. What is even more incredible is his workshop on Broadway, Lazarus. Hall is an underrated actor but he blows his role as Bowie/Lazarus right out of the house.

  24. Wow – So glad I came over to read..this is hauntingly dark and I agree Bowie would like this as he was a unique artist! You have captured his vibe brilliantly…

  32. I liked it, Bjorn. At first I didn’t know where you were going but then with the drug bit I figured it was Bowie.
    Your line, “But when spiders delivered through flames
    are eating your liver” reminded me of Dan Simmon’s rendition of the last five years of Charles Dickens’ life.
    This was in Simmon’s book, “Drood”, which is also the title of Dickens’ unfinished last novel. Charles was fighting off the power of Drood who gained personal control of his subjects through the use of micro bugs flowing through the veins to the brain.
    Evidently Dickens was addicted to opium, Dan was writing in fiction about some of his visits to an opium den among the wharfs along the Thames.
    Good reading book if you like Dickens.
    ..

  33. You write with such insight and language that you give an entirely different feel to what ought to be just another matter…….great!!

  36. Bjorn– off and on with Internet traveling and I am not sure where I have commented. Such a creative poem. Your freedom with language always startling and engaging. Thanks. K.

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