"Rebel Rebel" rings in my ears as
we drive on a haunted road
at 10:00 at night.

"Hand of God - Outro" sticks to me,
a roach on tape,
as his hand meets mine
and passes me a cigarette.

"Sober Up" gets him humming along
gets him tearing up
when we look up off the concrete and
name the stars.

"Requiem" is on my mind today
for he told me about those from
his past
and present
and future

"80's Films" is on repeat this morning
and I look through my photos
to see one of him
smiling and
laughing and
in love with life.

The first time in years I saw him in love with life
even for the length of a song.

here's to the glam rock messiah of outsiders and misfits,
the androgynous man of the stars with the music.

born in brixton,
he traveled the universe by spaceships and soundwaves
with wild hair and one eye dilated.
book-loving and queer,
in love with the thought of turning 50.
the world had never seen a man
living different lives at once,
but here the starman came reinventing himself:
ziggy stardust, thin white duke, aladdin sane, major tom—
all different selves tied together by his heart.

he lived his earthly mission, rightfully so
that even the gravity of the world could not keep him put.
so on and on he strummed his guitar and crawled on stage,
in spaceboots and dresses, in porcelain doll makeup,
reaching out to all the nobody and somebody people

but one day his cosmic vessel
was taken down by a secret sickness
and halted his mission here on earth,
and so the streets and little bars smelling of cigars
were flooded by the ones who mourned,
who looked up to the stars,
wondering where their starman went.
the world had never seen such an electric creature,
but here the star man came in music and dance,
saying it was alright to be weird—
to embrace strangeness
in a world where every earthling wanted to be the same.

and perhaps, he isn't really long gone:
his time here may have ended
but now he is out there, somewhere,
on some distant star,
watching over the Earth as he always has.

Hard frost and treacherous footing.
Nobody wanting to admit
that the new year
tastes an awful lot
like the old year.

None of our heroes
have been supernaturally resurrected.
There's the same
rank toxicity to our fears.
The jaunty carnival of ****** and maiming
continues unabated.
Death remains as senseless.
The corridors of power
are still slippery with slug trails and viscera,
and all the janitors have been
indefinitely furloughed.
It's cold, and
the bus is late again.

Still we persist in believing that
today will be different to yesterday,
that all those wrongs will be righted,
that the proper order - as we each individually, as
thin-skinned gods of our own personal
nuclear universes, perceive it -
will be perennially restored,
the buses will all
run on time,
and no one good
will ever die again.

But the truth is, this year
tastes an awful lot like
the old year.
I could be wrong, I guess.
Maybe everything will
turn out
fine.

The princess is dead, a tragic loss in mid air.
Our boy George has passed the torch along to his heir.
Major Tom blasted into space and ***** wonka was cast in haste.
But now we are drawn to the stage so sincere.

i didn't mourn your death
i didn't cry, didn't scream
didn't **** the world or any god for taking you away

and then i remember
english class, we all had to memorize Atticus's speech
you know, the one in the courtroom where he defended Tom Robinson

and then i remember
that you sang about leaving us before any of us knew you were gone
ziggy stardust, i miss you

and then i remember
i'm 7, maybe 8 years old
you taught me what imagination meant, what i could do, what alternate universes i could create

and then i remember
you loved so much you died with a secret
as i grew, i learned how to understand you

and then i remember
the day purple rain meant a nation mourning in unity

and then i remember
your song was in shrek and i'm sorry but that association from my childhood never left me

and then i remember
the amount of pain you endured

and then i remember
i was 11, my brother was singing along to hotel california, introduced me to your band and pointed you out to me
"that's glenn frey he's the guitarist"

and then i remember
why this year has been such a dark one
so much of the light has vanished with you

and then i remember

i never gave myself a chance to mourn your death

-z.z

In an instant and without a word of warning,

A billion years’ worth of existential glue

Dissipated into the ether

As he took a final breath of our sickly air. 

We’ve been struggling ever since.

The misery caused by humanity’s follies 

Exhausted his everlasting grace

In just a few decades;

A blip on the radar of time. 

We have unhinged the universe now;

That is what we do. 


“You have brought this upon yourselves,” he laments.

Heterochromatic eyes glaze over with grief.

“Please,” we beg,

“Come back to us.”


Our fatal flaw:

Never knowing what we had

Until we killed it with our own hands.


A million civilisations in the cosmos

But we were the most desperate.

Even the savior of all

Cannot save us now. 


We loved him as we love our Mother;

Still we turned a blind eye to his sickness,

Still we let her wither away 

When she had nothing left to offer us.

We watch skyscrapers collapse,

Petrol fires blaze,

Holes being torn into skin

With the ease of a pencil through paper.

We plead for his forgiveness,

With a rotting feeling in our stomachs

Telling us he will never come.

The stars shine differently now,

Dimmed by the pollution of city lights,

Yet still we gather to watch for him.

Still we wait for him to fall to Earth again.

Something happened on the day he died. Spirit rose a metre and stepped aside. Somebody else took his place, and bravely cried, on the edge of his mortality.
He arose into the mist
Of an ordinary morning
And there was a pause, a cease of existence
A spaceman on the moon tonight

An epitaph for the ages
A smile plastered on pages
Of aging kings and moon phases
We will fall into the Blackstar, a **** in our universe
Something happened on the day he died. Spirit rose a metre and stepped aside. Somebody else took his place and bravely cried, the ascension of immortality.

We live our lives staring at screens on our phones
giving attention to strangers living behind the screens
who are living beyond their means, garnering fame through memes.

Invest in a pair of binoculars and from a distance,
zoom in on what's popular. Or, see what's trending on the newsfeed: another black male shot by an officer. If you feel bad about the loss like a FaceBook Status, from the comfort of your home for no cost. Another tragedy in the chapter, as you live on happily ever after.

Close the novel and step into the grass in your front yard. And then make sure to inhale the grass in your blunt hard. Hold your breath until your cheeks turn blue as the blue in the sky on a summer night in July. Exhale.

Check mail. Write a message and watch the text sail
Through the air, the space that we inhabit together.

They always say nothing lasts forever, must be why
we record video footage and take photographs
of the times when your friend passed out and that hobo laughed.

Or the time you drank five brews, got behind, the wheel and almost crashed. That was the day you spiraled down a hopeless path.

Sober up in the morning as the rain trickles down the rooftop
, bathe in the water, and rinse away the negative vibes.
You go jogging down the neighborhood trail to that sedative high
of life. Think about who we lost this year: David, Prince, and Phife.

And many more, names you've never had the opportunity to learn. You take a turn as the path grows steeper. Thoughts in your head appear as you hear the positive message that's clear.

What if you hadn't wasted those afternoons watching TV commericals
on the sofa? Could I have invested in a real estate property, if I spent my funds properly and not on soda? Chug another cola yea, polar bear, because in the end what matters is if you truly care.

Life isn't fair, so when your cards are dealt, have a card up your sleeve. Because the deck is rigged, but you knew that before you've ever lived

Listening to my CD's late at night
In my room
Classics
Songs that molded impressionable children
Full of life and passion
Running hand in hand
Through the pouring November rain
Shaped a generation...
The eternal art of legends
Will all be forgotten
Like you
It makes me cry
They are no longer with us
I never got to meet my heroes
People who influenced me so much
And so many others

I heard the news today, oh boy
Bowie died and I cried
I heard his final songs
And I didn't sing along
I did not interrupt
I cried more than when my grandmother died
David Jones is gone


"Ground control to Major Tom.... "


I heard the news today, oh boy
And what did I find
Eyedea is gone, his message left behind
A true soul moved on
To the void
Drugs again...
When will it all end
I played his songs for hours
Through the night
I cried
And I cried
I cried more then when my mother died
I felt nothing then
And I moved on
Forgotten...

"The snow won't melt...
The fog won't clear..."
Oh how I wish you were here