Influence and Anger

"Chosen as Bowienet Gallery Featured Words/Poetry of the Week"

I.
A Boy picks up a magazine that lays upon the floor
He walks into his bedroom and quietly shuts his door
A fascination came over him as he began to look and read
What lay before him on his bed, was very strange indeed
A Man on stage wore boxing boots in a cat suit from Japan
A cigarette between his lips, Guitar held in his hand
So born to me was Ziggy, but little did I know
That all the "highs" in life are battered down below

II.
The strikes of ‘72, the winter of discontent
Mates at School are bullies saying Ziggy's bent
The Radio was playing "Starman" on T.V "Lost in space"
Smiths selling N.M.E displaying Ziggy's face
A phobia of spiders a star sign ruled by Mars
A fear of flying in a plane or travelling in fast cars
Loving all the music didn’t seem enough
Buying every poster and paraphernalia stuff

III.
‘72 became ‘73 things seemed altogether
Life was about to change, changing now forever
Platform boots and make-up, red hair everywhere
Ziggy is in fashion looking debonair
Saturday May the twelfth nineteen seventy three
All my dreams came true that night as Ziggy played to me
I gazed amazed bewildered breathless in silent awe
Hairs on my neck stood up as eighteen thousand roar

IV.
No phobia of these Spiders, Mick Ronson and his band
You know I think your wonderful shouting "gimme your hand"
Earls Court just exploding out into the street
Tired legs are dragging, dragging tired feet
The last train leaves the platform now I’m homeward bound
Beneath the streets of London on the underground
My Father waited up for me that I will never forget
I wish my Father had taken me that I will always regret

V.
The alien intruder, naked to the eye
Came and took my Father before his time to die
Influence and anger driving next to me
Teenage tears and heartache outside the Cemetery
I felt so lonely, all alone, for the first time in my life
Thinking that my Father would never see my Wife
The freedom of tranquillity made me leave my bed
I cut my hair in spikes and dyed it pillar-box red

VI.
A forty one year old teenager and his teenage son
New York City summer this Millennium has begun
Dancing at the Roseland, love is in the air
All these Bowie people, they don’t fucking care
Staring at a single light that struts across the stage
Stardust babies gazing, feeling half their age
Legends live forever the legends of your mind
Memories of my youth and the solace that I find.