The Pop-Culture Poem

This is a censored version of one of my spoken word poems, intended for entertainment value only. (Also, completed with stage directions, which are italicized). Lines that are interchangeable are denoted with a *.

See how many references you can pick up.

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Over 9000 words fight to the surface,
One does not simply stew about their nonsensical order,
I don’t always have writer’s block, but when I do, it’s a rather large pain in the posterior.
For some reason, I can’t let it go, no matter how hard I try.
This is very frustrating, and one of two things shall happen,

My annoyance will build until it explodes like Heisenberg’s false methamphetamine on Breaking Bad,
Or it will rain down adorable kittens from the sky in a wondrous burst of inspiration. (It’s raining cats and dogs quite literally).

Likely the former scenario, (because I’m not that lucky)
this dialogue will be exchanged with my friends,

Step to one side of stage with concerned facial expression and reassuring hand gesture.
“Dude eat a snickers.” Continue reading

If Food Could Fly: DP Response

Salutations readers! Daily Post prompted today, “What was the last thing that gave you a real, authentic, tearful, hearty belly laugh? Why was it so funny?”

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/roaring-laughter/

So, to answer that question, I thought I’d tell you a story, a day where I laughed harder than I think I’ve ever laughed in my whole life…

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My Life Written as a Narrative #1

If Food Could Fly

It was a beautiful summer day at the end of June. The light of the sun and the smell of barbecue wafted through the air. My nameless friend beside me, we were preparing to consume a delicious meal out in the yard.

The hamburger was just cooked, and I piled it high with lettuce and tomato, and accompanied it with a sightly ensemble of the finest celery, stir fry and fresh fruit you could imagine. Conversing all the while, I began to balance the plate precariously upon one arm, and attempt to carry a full glass of ice-cold water with the other.

I used the remaining free hand to move towards the door, which I opened with surprising ease. Naturally, my friend behind me reaches to take the door; or so I had assumed before I let it go. I wheeled on the spot, as the next thing I knew, the sound of glass-on-glass-smashed-together filled my ears as the door slammed into him. My friend’s eyes widened, and we both watched a marvelous few seconds. Continue reading