Fame And Fortune Is A Stupid Game – 20th May 1994

Kurt Cobain, what’s your point?
Couldn’t take the pressure
Couldn’t face the world and his wife
Too much shit said, too much
Put on to you by people you never knew
Pissy schizophrenic, suicide, no surprise
Rock legend dies
The revolution he never asked for
Killed him in front of his follower’s eyes

Kurt Cobain, what’s your point?
Sad loser took the easy way out
Gave up instead of getting away
To take the chance to play another day
Talent gone and forgotten by next century
That’s the waste
And the fame others hope to taste
Will still dangle like a carrot
For the young hopefuls to untangle

The mass debate never ends – 9th February 1994

Woke up wrapped up in my baby.  Her skin so smooth and soft.  Is it any wonder I wake up erect, groin pushing against her delicate flesh.  I woke gradually but it took more minutes to stir her from her slumber.

She is an angel in the morning – she is an angel with a sore head.  Sour, I called her this morning.  We laughed it off though and I set to a day’s work head held high.  I actually felt worse bodily wise today than the previous two I had off work ill.  I’ve a cold coming on in the head and it promises to be a bastard!

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Read Broni’s Dummy and Maddy’s letter this morning which gave me much food for thought though playing catch up on two days work saw to it that I forgot about it til my baby picked me up again.  Some days just flash by like they didn’t actually happen.

My baby worked herself silly again and then cooked a lovely meal and it all caught up with her after elegant sufficiency.  I took the initiative and dragged her out of her coma and we went and played along the watery piers at Poole Park.  She dropped her draws to piss, not realising it was in the light cast from yonder shore – we laughed and ran and let swans follow us, gliding gently across the black waters.

On return to base camp Broni set about more work (!) which took up the rest of the evening.  I took the opportunity of writing up some more poems (dating back to 1988).  There was a couple there I thought were ok.  I’d written down a couple of ideas I’d had floating around in my head and decided to put headgear into action and write full poems around them.  One worked really well and the other led to another great poem.  I wonder if I’ll look back in six years time at these and just think ‘they’re ok’!

Hey, here’s something I wanted to write down: “The world is permeated with roses of happiness all the time, but none of us know it.  The happiness consists in realising that it is all a great strange dream” – Jack Kerouac.  With that, I’ll end the day knowing it’s an exciting time ahead.

My Desire – 23rd July 1993

There’s a hole in my heart
My desire has left for three days
The intensity of our relationship
Burns brightly as we wait for each other

The emptiness is unbearable
My desire is to be by your side again
So we can stand together
And face the world full-on

25th Aug 2024 – I’m taking a guess at the date and that this is about Bronwyn. I can’t imagine writing that last line when I was with Emma or Cherry but I could be wrong. I do wish I’d dated things that I wrote in the past!

Time – 13th July 1993

Oh sweet gentle time
You tick on by
Restless as the wind, your movement
Forever trudging onward
Breathing life’s soft sigh

You wait for no man it’s said
Your passing is forever
A memory of a moment
Of a second, a thought, a blink of the eye
Is gone in no time

Time is moving on leaving us behind
Now you are my obsession
To catch up, to keep up
To run with the wind
And hold onto you forever