yes

when the applause dies
and with it the critics’ cries
when stadiums taught to riot
fall forlorn, empty, quiet
when the walk feels alone
and mute stares the phone
when trophies lose their gold
and 16 feels very old
when the willow lifts too heavy
like a tax too unfair to levy
when fresh sinews dare
to try be worthy of compare
when the world starts to forget
its eternal crushing debt
when a new age asks who
and pray what did he do?
when hundreds seem to fade to zero
you will then, as now, be my hero.

ram cobain
saaaaachin sachin

(coincidentally - or divinely - my 100th poem on this blog!)

adios amigo

sometimes the end
feels like a friend.

ram cobain

judas

hope is but a lengthier noose
that swiftly tightens while feeling loose.

ram cobain

un-scab

sweet is the pain we shyly feel
of wounds old, too fresh to heal.

ram cobain

superiority complex

the imbecile asked the fool
where he went to school.

ram cobain

dark thoughts

does night ever feel scared
and dream chilly nightmares
does it wish for a small light
to brighten away its fright
does it worry about strange knocks
and ticking of familiar clocks
does its very black blood sap
at the dripping of a leaky tap
does it ever feel painfully alone
when it hears the wind moan
does it break into a cold sweat
over the howl of a stray pet
does it say a devout hymn
against the flicker of shadows dim
does it clutch its pillow and weep
as it begs and cries for sleep
truly, does night ever say
I’m happy, here comes day.

ram cobain

will I…

will I be famous
as a writer someday
or will I remembered
as an orator who had his say
will I make it as a teacher
learned and worldly wise
or will I be a prodigy
and leave the masters surprised
will I be a doctor
god’s gift to the sick
or will I be a porn star
famous for my 12” dick
will I be a philanthrope
a generous soul indeed
or will I be a tycoon
untiring in my greed
but truth be told
I’m perfectly happy
for it takes a bit of them all
to make humble me

ram cobain

the last time

when was the last time
you wrote a silly rhyme
washed your own car
played air guitar
didn’t act your age
re-read a page
let the phone ring
smiled good morning
said a chain joke
let the sun soak
wore a crumpled shirt
admitted that it hurt?

ram cobain

double dying

the poem ran away
and hid under a chair
and try as I may
I couldn’t reach there
I called out to ma
why and woe that she
went all aha ha ha
all over me.

ram cobain

the reaper reaps

Death woke up different one day
stared into the mirror in dismay
for like an insomniac who daily tries
there were big bags under his eyes
and then his cheeks began to shrink
brittle blue from baby pink
he fearfully touched his vanishing hair
and the shiny skull spots birthing there
new wrinkle lines speedily cut in
like a familiar scythe ripping through skin
his proud pearly whites next fell loose
brown and useless like yesterday’s news
now his eyesight dimmed and blurred
like two spoonfuls of cataract stirred
maybe he heard a laugh but he wasn’t sure
with eardrums broken beyond cure
like an emperor bowed without a crown
his knees gave way and he crumpled down
and like a shower of sudden summer rain
his trousers burst into yuck yellow stain
as his chest started to rattle, splutter and give
he shrieked but gasped, “I want to live.”

ram cobain

ask

I can feed my wrist to blade
make my marker rainbow fade
stamp out glory with my own feet
make my iron hands fold in defeat
I can dream a wizening nightmare
make my skeleton cupboard bare
plot my splatter-glorious fall
make skull tattoos on the wall
I can wage a suicidal fight
gloat happily over my fatal plight
swallow my god and then betray
make my enemy have his say
I can puncture my one life boat
make my breath from seeking float
aim my neck towards the noose
make my wins to make me lose
I can act against my will
make hypocrisy have its belchy fill
tear a historic childhood snap
make best friends feel a stranger’s gap
I can do this and please more
make tears from blue skies pour
if only I could make you bless
make you, yes you say a yes.

ram cobain

one for the road

hunk
punk
monk
chunk
dunk
sunk
bunk
funk
junk
skunk
drunk.

ram cobain

silent witness

glorious, stoic, discreet sun
if you were to loosen your tongue
what stories would you care to tell
about mice and men and heaven and hell?

ram cobain

rhetoric

to give the devil his due
yes, the moron did argue
and with voice, affected, cool
asked if he was a fool

ram cobain

agony

the toughest of things ever to be
is asking you out for coffee.

ram cobain

alcatraz

the fool thought he broke the fetters

as he made a pyre of her letters
but life gloats that he's not free
for how do you burn a memory?

ram cobain

(Pic courtesy vchal and Istockphoto.com)

violent revolution

surprisingly, after tea
the brain yells “yippee!”
the stomach rumbles loud
says, son, I’ll do you proud
hear today as I foretell
a tale of heaven in hell
gone is the dreary drought
long, tiring, hard fought
today after the slaughter
you’ll need extra water
today after the dirty deed
all prisoners shall be freed
today in one explosive display
you’ll celebrate independence day
today after the bloodless coup
you’ll never want to poop
today after the pitiless plunder
you’ll be weary in wonder
so pre-grab the toilet paper
lest you lose it in the vapour
now run, take the digi-cam
to record the breaking of the dam
hark, quick, clutch the rear
see, the undie trembles in fear
go with authority and aplomb
go brave, go drop the bomb.

ram cobain

mom’s the word

mother, what would you say
if you read my blog today
would you scream out aloud
and gather a small crowd
would your hands, so used to clap
raise towards me in a slap
would you pull out your hair
especially as mine isn’t there
would you in horrified dismay
sit down before our god and pray
would you gasp and wonder
was it education or was it a blunder
would these scribbles of mine
bring to mouth all that you dined
would those diamond tears fall
at the sight of my cheap scrawls
would you, desperate, call out for dad
and would he similarly, feel as bad
would my rhymes not make you laugh
but choke and cut your voice in half
would you mourn what I’ve done
or say, that poet, he’s my son.

ram cobain

abracadabra

in the fender smashing bone
in the unanswered phone
in the blade that cuts slow
in the moment that must go
in the lonely public defeat
in the enemy smiling in greet
in the hero who must die
in the child who mustn’t cry
in the mother who must choose
in the father who must lose
in the friend who must fall
in the god who looks like a wall
in the needle finding vein
yes, there’s magic in pain.

ram cobain

torture

nothing more painful to endure
than an idiot who is insecure.

ram cobain

to sita

oh world, cruel place
seconds last for days
days pass like years
water tastes like tears
the sky, eternal blue
deftly hides all clue
the grass, soft, green
covers all it has seen
birds and beasts graze
like fine forgotten days
can nothing change
yet everything feel strange
they say I must be brave
lead, protect and save
so the body lives
fights and forgives
but this war inside
like the Ganges in tide
swirls cold and burns
like inquisitors taking turns
will I break, must I bend
before this hide-n-seek ends
these eyes grow old
the spirit less bold
sweet dearest, you’re late
ram passes away as he waits
oh where are you
what do I do?

ram

not again!

woe, dismay
It’s a bad hair day

ram cobain

appetizer

if words could bite
would you still write?

ram cobain

happiness

it’s a friend who never shows he cares
yet whose face in the mirror stares
a mother who scolds but whose lap brings
sleep and dreams with gossamer wings
a book that was written in another age
but which takes you there with every page
an ice-cream cone in hot summer sun
that only melts when the day is done
an innings from a champion past
played only for you from beginning to last
a kiss that makes you weak in the knees
and shows you where heaven must be
a guitar note that lunges and lingers
like the memory voice of your favourite singer
a god who comes good when you need
whose stone ears hear you when you plead
this is what happiness means to me
sweet like the world that newborns see.

ram cobain

first rain

wet kisses on cracked cheeks
like the first word an infant speaks
soothing, like a mother’s hand
you make me whole, make me land.

ram cobain

loneliness

the clock stares
in silent compare
like siamese twins
we’re alike, it grins
I’m you, you’re me
and two’s company.

ram cobain

finally

today I danced like me
today I let yesterday be.

ram cobain

scream

for god’s sake
the mask aches.

ram cobain

old age

cracks line the wall
the vessel gathers rust
the tree stoops to fall
the floor breathes its dust
the telly talks aloud
the radio blares a song
the sofa yearns a crowd
the chair rocks along
the phone waits and waits
the doorbell holds its tongue
the clock ticks never late
a photograph remains young.

ram cobain

vocabulary

there was once a man
who never heard the word ‘can’
he didn’t know what it meant
by either design or accident
in seriousness or wit
he never used it
as a child it was “a for ant”
(and yes “c for can’t”)
and when he read the dictionary
it filled him with worry
for ‘can’ stared back at him
like a verbose writer’s whim
and quite oft he was heard
saying “can is only a word”
very nondescript he was
with very nondescript flaws
and like a sorcerer’s cloning spell
he looked like everyone else
but still everyone could see
that that man isn’t me.

ram cobain

civilization

the monkey
found poetry

ram cobain

icarus

why do great men fall
from splendid ivory thrones
when they could stand tall
on lesser mortal bones
heroes they could be
legends than men too
instead they decree
to be like me or you.

ram cobain

wallpaper

do you have to die
to commit suicide
because everyday I see
the dead on their feet.

ram cobain

the end of ego

the black and the white
the corrupt and the upright
the spender and the miser
the fool and the wiser
the atheist and the evangelist
the weakling and the fist
the lover and the cheat
the winner and the defeat
the rich and the needy
the genteel and the seedy
the arrived and the lost
the servant and the boss
the classy and the gaudy
the star and the nobody
the crier and the clown
the villager and the town
the critic and the fan
the mouse and the man
daily meet the twain
as faeces in the drain.

ram cobain

the jig

today I danced
in my head
because your glance
told me yes.

ram cobain

heresy

blasphemy, sacrilege
woe that I should
realize the carpenter’s son
got nailed to wood.

ram cobain

amen

If god were a betting man
he’d put his last buck on me
and even if you weren’t my fan
i think you'd have to agree.

ram cobain

frankly speaking

believe me when I say
“I love you” today
but how am I to know
i'd feel the same, tomorrow?

ram cobain

h.v.d.

oh beautiful unseen face
here’s a warm embrace
here’s an animal bear hug
here’s a clinky beer glug
here’s a hand ruffling hair
here’s a lingering stare
here’s an unbought gift
here’s an untaken lift
here’s an unborn starry night
here’s an unformed love bite
here’s to you, here’s to me
here’s to us, here’s to we
here’s to what I’d like to say
happy valentine’s day.

ram cobain

the socialite

she smells of Yardley
and broken dreams
of stale Sundays
and old Jim Beams
of mascara tears
and trophy smiles
of botox rears
and chipped nail files
of flashbulb wrinkles
and derby catwalks
of dollar note crinkles
and Gucci talks
of public loves
and private cries
of page 3 wows
and the perfect disguise.

ram cobain

quite an apology

oh, for a new poem to write
for another fan to delight
but on what, I haven’t a clue
so let me say, sorry to you.

:-)

ram cobain

come

standing, falling
tumbling, calling
wishing, yearning
breathing, burning
crying, bleeding
praying, pleading
hurting, curing
feeling, enduring
hearing, hoping
dying, coping
finding, losing
being used and using
as I wait for you.

ram cobain

for vibgyor

in b/w movies
how did they show
the true beauty
of a rainbow?

ram cobain

slivers of me

a long swallow of summer beer
curtains opening to holiday cheer
sun washed in sweet june rain
a bathroom mirror that’s just as vain
a friend who answers on first ring
bravado only a mom’s lap can bring
a book that hugs on every page
a raise above the minimum wage
music that makes the ears worthwhile
a monday morning that wakes with a smile
a love that stays lovely forever
a gut feeling that never says never
a pillow that always looks rested
a will that never looks bested
a dream that touches the fingers
a yesterday that today does linger
a hero who battles mortal awe
an intelligence that asks a how
a god who must again deliver
these are but a few slivers
of blood, bone and what must be
slivers, slivers of what make me.

ram cobain