#cobain
How ridiculous it is
to think me and you
there was never a reason to be true
where did everything end up
im outside and youre blue
i paint portraits and poems
he wouldn't like this. god. cobain.
jack **** is what i got
some compliments that didnt add up
you want nothing and thats still a lot
where do we even end up
this isnt what i wanted
we dont mesh, the colors on your collar
and the sweat on my breast
was there sometime out there you felt the insecurity of my flesh
i hear birds chirp now, your season gone
i ask myself how i let things get so wrong
play acoustic until fall asleep
fast and weak i take a seat
wish again you were here with me in this park
next to the street
i feel you even when youre not here
not sure if its you or a ghost i feel near
i want you to be what you can never have
you want me for my years on letterman
wheres your angle
you do nothing for free
(you aren't jack ****
you can't **** with me)
May 8, 2020
May 8, 2020 at 5:39 AM UTC
Member of the 27 club, too young to die
Too fast to live, only lent to us
A break in the clouds that let some light in,
Original flash of inspiration jumping
From my radio to shout, music isn't dead
Too soon to leave us only wanting more
Jun 20, 2019
Jun 20, 2019 at 4:18 PM UTC
Raised by
Kurt Cobain anger,
low grunge in earbuds
make it easier to ignore the mass of loud kids in the halls,
Hope they stay away.
For me? Socializing will drain you.
Raised by
Amy Winehouse.
Big winged eyes but,
her voice was bigger.
Showed me how to close doors,
and what hides behind them.
For love is a losing game,
yet we end up addicted anyways.
Raised by
The Beatles.
60s pop and rock,
Oh! Darlin’ they are good!
Taught me to think for myself
and let some things be.
Raised by
Cage The Elephant.
Showed me the world is
cold, cold, cold.
Cause there ain’t no rest for the wicked!
I’ll always find
trouble on my left
and to my right.
Raised by
Earl St. Clair
I might not have what I want,
but I got what I need.
And some don’t have a three story home
to feel alone in.
You just gotta deal with the pain,
before it deals with you.
Dec 8, 2017
Dec 8, 2017 at 11:11 AM UTC
im a lot like kurt cobain
when i am done writing something that seemed beautiful as i formed it
i begin to really depsise it
i am a lot like kurt cobain
overly humble, a bit too sensual
i am a lot like kurt cobain
i speak loudly but i talk slowly
i am a lot like kurt cobain
i am mild, and peaceful
i am a lot like kurt cobain
i dont have a gun
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 12:54 AM UTC
and it was only after van Gogh realised that
the bullet could paint the brain better than the brush,
that he became immortal
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 9:50 AM UTC
The ****** poet mainlines inspiration by the gram.
chasing away the gnawing emptiness.
Fill the void with creations formed in pain, molded in your likeness
to keep at bay the loneliness.
The ****** poet and his muse paint the world in inebriated metaphors.
Burnt spoon blackened souls gather on the fringes.
Creating living seas of tortured, tumultuous shadow.
The end comes like an implosion.
Destruction turned inward one last time.
Not a result of action,
but of choices made in moments of self-loathing
when the junkie’s muse was nowhere to be found.
Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 1:11 PM UTC
We pull, into the
Grand Canyon,
at sunset.
We toss and fling
giant rocks, boulder-
esque chunks of
Earth, off of
the side.
Someone screams,
they are upset, but
no regrets,
Am I evil?
(All poems containing a question)
Am I pensive?
(All poems containing an affirmation)
Blazing across Arizona,
dead dogs grovel,
strays, orphans searching,
seeking, looking for a home,
******* and copulating,
in, vacant gas station
lots. Not a bone,
to be thrown.
Where are our owners?
(All poems containing a question)
This is enthralling.
(All poems containing an affirmation)
Fear and faith,
carry us riveting,
through rivulets of clouds,
we sore, flying above,
searching for peace,
doves.
The woods would be very silent indeed,
if no birds sing except those who sing,
best.
But,
she wants revenge,
with
a thirst for pain, I cannot
contend.
And
as the rain pours down,
sorrow falling from the
clouds.
She wants revenge.
And,
I simply cannot even
contend.
Laying lines out on
the metallic surface, of
With the Lights Out,
white powder flaked
along Cobain's black
and white face.
The drugs which killed
him, no longer causing
him any more pain,
merely giving this writer
some idolized thrill and gain.
And then high, reading
about one more creature,
dizzy with love.
God gave us memories so that we may have roses in December
Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 8:38 AM UTC
i would take the first train back to the 90's,
when my lungs were nicotine-free
and there was always something worthy on TV.
i would wear my chucks in bed,
and have cereals for dinner.
i would not have heard of ****
i would have used the internet to find
the exact words to the songs on Nevermind,
because cassette inlays haven't got enough
space for Kurt's lyrics.
and if i were you, i wouldn't call this a poem.
-khai
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 9:02 AM UTC
Remember, dancing with the devil
In life will take it's toll
For, dancing with the devil
In the end will take your soul
Many who have done it
Reached the top only to die
Many souls we thought in heaven
Could never get that high
The Forever 27 club
playing in the band
Janis, Jim and Jimi
In hell, oh....ain't it grand
We thought them all as angels
But, the truth it rings a bell
They were dancing with the devil
And they ended up in hell
Cobain and Amy Winehouse
Oh yeah, they're down there too
Brian Jones and others
Playing hard rock and the blues
Sell your soul to Satan
Where you go...you do not choose
If you spend time with the devil
It's nothing but bad news
Remember, dancing with the devil
In life will take it's toll
For, dancing with the devil
In the end will take your soul
Many who have done it
Reached the top only to die
Many souls we thought in heaven
Could never get that high
There's others there who did the dance
Hit the crossroads, sold their soul
Drugs and drink and suicide
That's how this devil rolls
Some may get redemption
For the things they do in life
they sold out with their talent
They were dancing on a knife
The band is hot, and so's the place
They play here every night
We wish they were in heaven
But, deep down you know I'm right
Elvis, yes, the king is here
He did drugs and did the dance
Now, he's singing for the devil
He never had a chance
Remember, dancing with the devil
In life will take it's toll
For, dancing with the devil
In the end will take your soul
Many who have done it
Reached the top only to die
Many souls we thought in heaven
Could never get that high
So many tortured people
So many who did wrong
They traded with the devil
For the price of just a song
Rock and Roll in heaven
Has a great band, just the same
But, with Janis, Jim and Jimi here
They just don't have the game.
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 12:12 PM UTC
I am left the lone soldier on the battlefield,
The others have fled.
Heroes into the arms of God
Cowards to the hills.
I am alone in the light of day;
No masters to serve, nor subordinates slave.
I can see for miles,
Yet this ground is unknown to me.
I walk the line between history,
And numbered days.
Shall I be a fabled burst of flame,
Or be forgotten as smolders of ash?
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 10:50 PM UTC
April 5th 1994- Kurt Cobain dies
April 6th 1994- The President of Rwanda Dies
April 7th 1994- Kurt Cobain's body is found
April 7th 1994- A genocide begins.
Neighbors take arms against neighbors
People he once shared a sandbox with now hold a machete to his neck
Heads roll- literally
Babies cry out to their mothers who lie there choking on their own blood
Girls who 2 days ago were playing house with their dolls, now take care of their whole family
Screams of pain from girls who's innocence is taken from the man who used
to bounce them on his knee.
Gathered in the place where God is supposed to be
Hundreds are murdered ruthlessly.
Guns not pointed at their heads
But clubs that smash them in.
Achilles' heels slashed
These men drink and feast and sleep
Over the screams of their victims
Babies born 9 months after these men took something that was not theirs to
take
A physical representation of all that is evil and hatred and pain
She tries to love them anyway
But she sees him in them
He has daddy's eye
She has her fathers nose
She sees them in the way he looks at her when he's hungry
As if she is just there to quench that thirst with her body.
The whole word is split in 2
Nobody is Rwandan anymore
You are Hutu or Tutsi
Short or tall
Human or vermin.
The dead among the living
Sometimes I can't tell which is which
Until I see it
That sparkle of hope in that one man's eye
Because the human spirit will never die.
The father of his best friend tortured and murdered his mother on their
front lawn.
Orphaned and afraid,
He cannot stop
He cannot slow down
He cannot give up
Because ***** Kurt Cobain
he has to tell the story of what really happened that day
Rwanda April 7th 1994
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 2:45 PM UTC
"Till death do us part,"
Red lips behind a cereal spoon
Blue eyes and pupils like dimes
The moon is her spotlight
Glinting off of pale hair
"Till death do us part,"
Layers upon layers of clothing
You always felt too skinny
You painted a skeleton
And called it 'self portrait'
"Till death do us part,"
She was starved for sunlight on the hottest days
You let her stretch in the rays
As you wilted comfortably in the shade
And Frances skipped from dark to light, keeping the equilibrium that you couldn't give her
"Till death do us part,"
The greenhouse above the garage
Where you swallowed your final breaths
A lethal dose of ****** coursing through your veins
And a bullet in your skull
Did she laugh as you fell apart?
It's better to burn out
Than to fade away
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 3:05 PM UTC
You're gone
for the world wasn't worthy enough to be any longer trodden by your feet.
You're gone
I grieve not
for I believe in another world less cruel and grim than this we shall meet.
@mosquitoism
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 6:03 PM UTC
first breath,
Eyes wide open
take some time,
Enjoy the moment,
when you aren't born
because it's safe
inside the utero,
inside the mother
of all children -
and come along,
we're not alone,
we are together
see to eye, stay awake,
put the past behind
your shoulders,
as you are,
as you ought to be,
to say the words you
need to mean them,
& wipe the powder
off your nose,
& bring some light
to the windowless
houses
grey is a color. That's fine,
but how come we're not envolved,
I like that you don't like my favorite colors
because mine is already taken.
and he lives in a car, with a record out there,
crying and refusing to live in such human state,
such is his condition,
and he remembers Andy Wood,
but he doesn't care anymore,
because his life is better
without him.
and those who stay
will never understand
why the dragon spread his wings
& took all of them to far away
from this frail stage.
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 6:45 AM UTC