Beside midnight's minting bare branches
Dead fingered messages on bedroom pane scratches
Four awe struck teens oija board captured
Followed fast spelt results, from rock star sanctioned
Questions asserted by incredulous desires
Hoisted upturned glass drawn answers much admired
Grave lain idol caressed all the girls inquired
Decisive planchette slide surprised previous denyers
Eerie sequenced letters spelt Cobain's cause of death
Conduit confirmed it an accident, fans bereft
Of Kurt's cutting edge grunge, now Nirvana aroma left
Bygone, but through them, legend found breath
1st October 2020
For: 'Unexplained' Poetry Contest
Sponsor : Carolyn Devonshire
NB - Biological studies have demonstrated that the
phenomena of seemingly self driven planchettes
during seances is caused by the ideomotor effect,
a sub concious physical response. Ironically, the
less control participants think they have, the more
their subconscious controls what happens.
I wanna rule my destiny, like Buju
Be free to connect with nature
Maybe learn a little Voodoo
Uplift my spirituality
Am I in a horrible dream
Or is this bondage my reality
In a parallel universe
Compelled to move forward
But Earth appears to be going in reverse
Am I wrong to feel obsolete
Could I pull off a Hatshepsut reign
Bob Mar, I don’t want to wait in vain
All apologies sang Kurt Cobain
My mental will not allow defeat
My head up I must keep
A being of divine light I am
Enlightened like a goat of the
Mountains of Mizoram
Awaiting an apocalypse
Enamored by the lunar eclipse
Absorbing energy from the sun
I drink from the fountain with sealed lips
Ruling my destiny right at my fingertips
They say the Mayans had spaceships
I was there,
I saw that brick alley
where brick by brick I walked with him
beneath a stone bridge,
to a carved-out tree
that Summer in Prague, and kissed.
All I think about now
is Kurt Cobain,
what it feels like to trace that last edge,
while an animal inside me screams
without pain,
just release.
I wanna split from that world
where people don't stop
to look at women selling flowers
while they drive to work, clocks
are ticking. Who needs them?
Because I can tell time
by the way painted nails
sparkle in the Sun on Sundays,
where I saw green but you saw red.
Maybe there's somewhere we could run..
Maybe someday
we'll look back on these as best of times,
because we found happiness in nothing.
KURT COBAIN
K Kurt Cobain my idol you still--always remain
U Unique in a way that few can seek to explain
R Rejecting yourself – inflicted by a life of pain
T Too many fans- too overwhelming your fame
C Courageously you continued to light a flame
O Our hearts you won-- the talent and shame
B ‘Breed’ and ‘Stay away’—always ‘On a Plain’
A ‘All Apologies’ as your hurt remained the same
I Imagine lost music if your life we might reclaim
N ‘Nevermind?’ suicide…tragic choice… end game
(A dedication to an icon lost…figuratively and literally)
My eyes are dry,
from the tears i cry,
'cuz you never really got the chance
to sing your song and dance,
'territorial pissings'
is why im missing
'come as you are'
from near and far
just to show you,
that we have a clue,
of how you delt
with the way you felt
enough drugs to kill three
"drinks are on me"
from the day you were born
you felt worn,
used and abused
by your parents fumes
caused your music
without, you couldn't do it
your anger and hate
aginst peole was so great,
that i caused your fate.
this poem is a tribute to the life of Kurt Cobain. the lead sinnger and
gutairist of Nirvana. - Bree
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