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| WRITING SAMPLES | |
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Welcome to my writing samples page. |
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 From "The Haiku Scam" BRITNEY SPEARS not that innocent fans orbit breasts like planets the other white meat DESIRE, TRANSIENCE, CONTINGENCY Lack cash; what a pain Money won't stay in pockets Have to get a job RIGO latin devil boy gay actor dancing with drugs loves all Madonnas |
Poem featured in the film "Word Junky"
URBAN ATHELETE Each morning I wake to kiss the sky From the brick of my apartment out I fly Charging the door to the gritty street Jump five flights land on both feet I am the urban athlete First a quick free throw of my bag of refuse into the garbage cans Located in the lower alley between the buildings I ain't going down there, don't make no sense Them rats is huge and playing offence! No time to prepare, I lob and swish...Shit! I missed! Oh well... Now I'm flying down the block Pounding pavement, huffing dirty air I race by and all the Harlemites stare They have three reactions to the sight of my bouncing afro Admiration: "Look at that healthy girl go, looking like a Angela Davis! You run girl!" Derision: "That girl's a running fool, looking all spastic. Shit can't be that drastic. Don't you know nobody's chasing you girl!" And apathy: "What running girl?" I fly past I am the urban weight lifter, my backpack weighs a thousand pounds I brace to lift against the ground I carry everything with me prepared and set I carry everything on my back so I will never forget Those you have passed before me Those who have laid the path before me I am the urban karate kid But my history does not tell me to wax on wax off It tells me to get ahead I fly with amazing agility my nerves are finely keyed Avoiding collision after collision with lightening speed I am the urban boxer punching my way through the crowd Murmurring "excuse me, pardon me" out loud (you have to be polite if you want to get endorsements!) Inside though I'm screaming "Get the fuck out of my way you slow mother fuckers! I got places to be! I will not wait for you, will not let you stand in my way Me? I'm sliding past delayers, like an urban ice skater I fly with my goal in mind, lungs burning I press on I can not miss my train cause who know's when the next one will be along I imagine a line of victory tape covering the office doors that I will burst through To the cheers and accolades of every co-worker With energy this day I begin My lips part, embrace sweet oxygen This is life! I fly This dawn I kiss the sky  From Literary Journal "Signifyin Harlem" Mike Shy Your first time is almost guaranteed to be your worst Partially it comes from thinking about it too much And then there's the people bragging- "oh, it feels so good" and "I do it all the time" and "I'm so great about it!" And then of course there's the Horror stories about doing it before your really ready Or God forbid doing it wrong Apprehension Nerves Inexperience these all mix With your virginity...ON STAGE So it's no surprise that you fucked up you poem the first time you tried to perform it But that's no reason to get mike shy Honey You lack the proper relationship with the audience Until 5 minutes ago that's what you were- audience, but then you came up on the stage The dynamic has shifted and you will both need time to adapt How long were you out there? Denying yourself, pretending to be content to just sit and clap Meanwhile living a lie, Scribbling rhymes on cocktail napkins To then cover quickly with your drink so the waitress wouldn't see your secret shame Hiding in your office cubical during lunchtime visiting illicit web sites Louderarts.com, nyuorican.com, www.Def poetry jam.com Metaphors similes slipping from your lips uncontrollably Waking mid night between sweat soaked sheets You legs wet from some jittery alliteration You couldn't help dreaming in liquid language You wiped your inner thighs with the pages of your journal Slid the book beneath your pillow and tried not to think about it Tried hard not to think about how bad you wanted to join us Become a prosy for poetry, a slut for slam Giving away your soul one verse at a time In exchange for the love of the crowd, the approval of other poets, and maybe a little money You wanted to be a part of our erotic/athletic camaraderie That only comes from hot competition, respect, and envy You wanted to rock the rough shoulder checking Compliments we poets exchange like quarterbacks Slapping the buttocks of successful players a little too hard Each registering the extra pressure, appreciating the sting you wanted to get in on our thing and baby---I don't blame you... This shit is FUN! so what you fucked up so it didn't go as smoothly as it did when you were practicing home alone in front of the mirror so you stuttered a little, so you forgot the words to your poem so you tripped, banged your lip on the microphone, bled, saw the blood, then passed out could have been worse chances are next time can't go as bad as this one what did you think, your first time you were gonna win HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!! But don't give up. You know that you want this. You know that you love it. You know that if you walk off this stage you'll regret it, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But soon and for the rest of you life. Believe me. We all used to suck. It took a lot of time and effort to get this fucking good So come back next week, Same slam time, same slam venue, probably the same damn slam poem It's ok we know it takes practice just come back So for now I must say good bye but don't you dare become mike shy |
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