Origins
written and directed
by
David Walker
Inspired
by
the films of
Quentin Tarantino
David Lynch
&
Rob Zombie
There is method
To his madness
January 2013
first draft
1. EXT. Run down project apartment complex - 3:00 am
A dark, tall figure with long black hair and a trenchcoat opens the already cracked red door.
MAN:
I'm looking for love in all the wrong places.
CUT TO:
INT. Apartment 3
A typical roach infested apartment with a kitchen built into the living room. 3 GIRLS are on the kitchen floor. GIRL # 1 one has black hair with big lips and a curvy frame and she is wearing a pair of Tripp pants and a black bra barely covering her ample bosom. She has a flesh colored rubber hose tied to her left arm. GIRL # 2 has dyed rainbow colored hair, a nice smile, and a skinny frame. She is wearing a pair of tore blue jeans with smiley faces and cute in jokes written on them, also not wearing a shirt with a lacy blue bra on. She has a spoon with water and black tar heroin inside it which she is heating up with a silver Zippo with the word "Skittles" engraved into it. GIRL # 3 Has long naturally red hair, glasses and an extremely voluptuous figure. She is wearing tight black pants and a black shirt with thin sleeves. She is inspecting a covered syringe with an unsure look in her eyes.
GIRL # 2:
So, do you wanna do it or not Jane?
Snatches the syringe out of JANE's hand.
JANE:
I'm not sure. How long have you been doing this shit?
Girl #2 takes the orange cap off the syringe revealing a small needle.
GIRL #2:
Since after I graduated. About 3 years. Liz you ready?
LIZ:
As ready as I am for dat sweet tang!
Girl #2 giggles. She sticks the needle into Liz's arm, blood mixes with the brown fluid inside, and she pushes the plunger down. Liz leans back into Girl #2's arms and Girl #2 gives her a kiss.
LIZ:
I love you, Julia.
JULIA:
Well, I love you too.
JANE:
You guys are so gay!
(OS):
Save that shit for the fucking customers!
CUT TO:
Other side of room. A greasy looking MAN with short faded black hair and a scar going from the corner of his mouth to the right ear is sitting in a beat up recliner cleaning his Uberti 1873 Cattleman revolver while smoking a fat blunt and watching some kind of high budget porn with Sasha Grey in it.
JULIA:
Sorry, Mike. It didn't stop you from leaving me and Liz unsatisfied and bored, did it?
LIZ and JULIA laugh. JANE has a nervous look in her eyes.
MIKE:
Very fucking funny you wore out trick! Am I gonna have to smack the sass out yo mouth?
MIKE gets up, puts out his blunt and walks over to the GIRLS gun in hand.
MIKE:
Or am I gonna have to give your little friend a scar like mine.
LIZ:
Mike don't!
MIKE SLAPS JULIA with the side of his UNLOADED revolver and grabs JANE by her hair.
MIKE:
Who the fuck are you, anyways bitch?
JANE:
(stuttering)
I was walking down the street earlier today and I ran into Julia and Liz. They went to school with my sister I think. Let me go!
MIKE:
So you're a young'n. Well you have some nice big titties!
MIKE RIPS off her shirt exposing her breasts. He begins to squeeze the right one. JANE SLAPS MIKE HARD!
MIKE:
Bitch!
MIKE lets go of her hair. Jane runs to the other room grabbing her shirt. LIZ stumbles towards him and PUNCHES him in the nose.
MIKE:
That's it! You little cum dumpsters are dead!
MIKE picks up the REVOLVER, runs to the chair where the bullets are and tries to reload. JULIA wakes from her daze. We see him load 3 rounds. All of a sudden the DOOR gets broken down and the dark clad FIGURE from the scene before pulls out a BERETTA M9 with a silencer attachment. MIKE FIRES 2 shots at him haphazardly missing both. The MAN LAUGHS and FIRES one shot that MIKE's crotch catches.
CUT TO:
2. INT. Next door in Apartment 2.
A MAN and WOMAN in their early 40's are smoking a joint and seem disturbed by the gunfire.
MAN:
(coughing)
What the hell was that?
WOMAN:
Sounded like gunshots. Do you think we should call the cops?
MAN:
Fuck no! There is a pound of chronic in the bedroom closet! Just pray whoever it is doesn't come over here!
WOMAN:
Okay. Are you gonna pass that?
CUT TO:
3. INT. Apartment 3.
The smoke has cleared. MIKE is begging for death and BLEEDING out everywhere, JULIA is in a daze, dumbfounded by what she just witnessed, LIZ is cowering in fear, crying, and JANE just came out of the bedroom with her TORN SHIRT on and a terrified "Oh my God" expression. The unknown assailant has a devilish grin upon his face.
MIKE:
Godfuck! Kill me you sunuvabitch! Godda--
The MAN obliges. He fires a single shot into his RIGHT EYE.
MAN:
Well, looks like I got here in the nick of time!
JULIA:
(blankly)
W-Who the fuck are you?
MAN:
That is of little importance right now. Who are you foxy ladies?
JULIA:
M-My name's Julia. That girl over there (points to Liz) is Liz, and the ginger is Jane.
MAN:
What pretty names! Well, I have a question. Will you three lovely young ladies gather round that despicable looking chair and listen to what I have to say, or are you going to run? Keep in mind I have rope in my trenchcoat and the fact I mean you no harm. I am just a lonely man with a story to tell, and the way I see it, what with that bruise on your sweet face, you kinda owe me.
JULIA:
I think we can stay. I just wanna know your name.
MAN:
Ahh, but I am a man of many names. My christian name is Derek. You don't need the last for now.
DEREK walks to the chair and sits down. He waves the GIRLS over.
DEREK:
C'mon I just want to tell my tale. Look, I will put the gun under the chair as a sign of good faith that neither you girls or I will start shooting the place up again. Are we square ladies?
JULIA:
What do ya say guys?
They gather in the kitchen.
LIZ:
This guy has a screw loose.
JULIA:
Yes, but he saved us from our pimp. We should humor him.
JANE:
I think he is hot!
LIZ and JULIA just stare at JANE.
JANE:
Sorry, but he is.
JULIA:
So it's agreed. We will listen to his story, silently pray he doesn't rape us and leave afterwards.
The GIRLS walk to the chair. DEREK has lit the blunt.
DEREK:
Ahh, so you have decided to join me. Good. Do you guys wanna hit this?
LIZ and JULIA shake their heads no.
JANE:
I will.
DEREK:
Great. Now, where do I begin. I suppose everybody's roots stem from childhood, so lets go back, oh say, 20 years ago.
FADE TO BLACK
Against black, TITLE CARD
October 15th 1995.
CUT TO
4. EXT. Suburbia circa 1995.
There are three boys between the ages of 6 and 9 playing in front of a grey HOUSE with a white MINIVAN in the driveway. Little DEREK is a scrawny 6 year old boy with short brown hair and a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles action figure in his hands. The 2 other BOYS ages 7 and 9 are picking on him and trying to take away DONATELLO.
DEREK:
Leave me alone or I will whoop your butt.
BOY #1:
Whatever! You are scrawny and lame. Give us your Ninja Turtle now or we will beat you up!
BOY #2 picks up a STICK and starts hitting DEREK with it.
BOY #2:
What are you going to do? Get your daddy? Oh, wait...that's right, you don't have one!
The 2 BULLIES start laughing. A look of hatred fills young DEREK's eyes. He catches the STICK and slaps BOY #2 in the face with it. He then tackles him and starts beating him mercilessly. BOY #1 runs towards the PORCH and knocks on the DOOR. DEREK'S MOM answers. She is in her mid 30's with brown hair and casual clothing on, smoking a cigarette and drinking a cup of "coffee."
BOY #2:
Derek's beating up Josh again!
DEREK'S MOM:
Well, good for him! Bet that little pecker snot deserved it too. Now, Brad...why don't you take you and your friend on home before I tell your dad you play with Barbies.
LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
My mother was a sweet ol' broad!
BRAD:
(sighs)
Okay, Ms. Walters, but you do know you are going to have to pull him offa Josh right?
DEREK'S MOM:
(sighs like Brad)
I suppose.
DEREK'S MOM and BRAD walk to the front yard and GASP when they notice that DEREK has knocked out 2 of JOSH'S baby teeth, both in the front and broke his nose, which is bleeding profusely.
DEREK'S MOM:
Derek Charles Walters! Get the fuck up offa him!
DEREK:
(crying)
He hit me with a stick!
DEREK'S MOM:
Well, now I'm about to!
She picks up the STICK and beats his ass with it several times.
DEREK:
Fuck you bitch!
DEREK'S MOM, infuriated throws the stick down and SLAPS him across the face. DEREK runs away.
He runs to a wooded area in the back yard as far as his legs can take him.
LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
Do not weep, for on that day, I met God and Satan incarnate and it turns out they existed singularly in my head.
CUT TO:
5. JANE:
Like a conscience?
DEREK:
Much more. These guys are in the room right now and only I can see him. Satan led me to you guys tonight! Who knows what kind of CRAZY hijinks are in store!
JULIA:
That's it I'm outta here! C'mon gu--
DEREK fires of his M9 1 time.
DEREK:
Now, listen to me you dykey, junkie whore. I have 3 more rounds in this motherfucker and one
of them is reserved for you if you don't sit your tight ass back down.
JULIA sits back down scared to death. DEREK regains his composure and is "all smiles" again.
DEREK:
Phew! I don't want to hurt anybody. I just want someone pretty to listen to my fucking story. Fuck, if you want, I will ask you guys about yourself later on, but for now I'm going to introduce you to my best friends.
JANE:
Who are they again?
DEREK:
Ah, you were trying to pay attention. I will remember that. They go by many names. One can be called "God", "Heroic Harry", "The White Knight", whatever you envision as good, this mofo is it. He is the reason you guys are still alive.
LIZ:
And the other?
DEREK:
Ahh, him. He can go by "Satan", "The Rapist", "The Angel of Death." He's the reason ol' crusty here no longer bothers you.
LIZ:
So you're basically ape shit, right?
DEREK:
Pretty much! Now where was I? Ah...yes
CUT TO:
6. INT. Small wooded area behind the house --- Early evening.
DEREK has made himself a nice little HANGOUT in the woods! there is a trunk with tons of comics in it, an arsenal of sharpened sticks and rocks, Batman action figures, and a Game Boy Color. He is drawing a picture at the moment.
LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
There I was in my element. Pissed at my mother, then all of a sudden, a deep, angelic voice rang out.
VOICE #1:
(OS...of course)
You don't have to hate her, you know. She loves you.
LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
And then another, this voice sounding more playful and mischievous then the other.
VOICE #2:
(OS)
But, for how long? Do you think she meant to have you?
DEREK:
Where are you guys?
LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
And then they appeared.
A 13 YEAR OLD BOY with BROWN hair and a FLANNEL overshirt over a Nirvana T-SHIRT with baggy torn blue JEANS with stains on them appears.
BOY #1:
Don't hate your mom.
VOICE #2:
(OS)
But, watch her close.
DEREK turns his head. We see another BOY roughly the same age with slightly long BLACK hair and a TRENCHCOAT over a Nine Inch Nails T-SHIRT with tight black CHICK PANTS with a CHAIN leading from his pocket to his BELT. He has a lip piercing and he is smoking a cigarette.
DEREK:
Who are you guys?
BOY #1:
Just think of us as older brothers your mom can't see.
DEREK:
Wow! I should introduce you guys to my friends!
BOY #2:
No!
DEREK:
Why not?
BOY #2:
You are the only person that can see us. Don't go telling anyone and don't talk to us in front of anyone. People will think you are nuts!
BOY #1:
Think of us as two ghosts that give you advice. Don't listen to him though, he'll get you in trouble.
BOY #2:
Shut up! Or I will kick your ass again.
BOY #1:
Not in front of him. He doesn't need to see that shit. Not now
DEREK:
What are your names?
BOY #1:
That's up to you.
DEREK:
I'll call you Joe, and him Jerry.
JOE:
Works for me, for now. Call us whatever you feel like calling us whenever you like. If you wanna call me butthole and him poophead, go right ahead.
DEREK:
Okay, but for now you guys are Joe and Jerry.
JOE:
We are going to leave now. We will show up when we think the time is right. Sometimes you will see us others you won't, but we are always with you.
JERRY:
Even when you poop.
CUT TO:
7. INT. Apartment 3.
LATE 20'S DEREK:
And then I went back home and they disappeared. I reconciled with my mom and for the next few weeks I didn't see them. Brad started hanging out with me again and school was good. The years go by and still no sight of them. 4 years pass by. It's 1999 and my tastes changed. Instead of Ninja Turtles and Batman it was KISS and Freddy Krueger. By this point me and Josh had made up and Brad was in middle school. And so we go to where me and the voices meet again.
8. INT. Taft Elementary
A class of roughly 25 children in your average 5th grade home room with a stout middle aged gentleman teaching. JOSH and DEREK are in the back row sitting side by side.
TEACHER:
...And that's how the metric system works.
JOSH:
(to Derek)
Dude, did you check out RAW last night? The Undertaker crucified Stone Cold!
DEREK:
Fuck I missed it. I was doing homework.
JOSH:
(loud)
Shit!!
TEACHER:
What did you say Mr. Jarvis?
JOSH:
Sorry Mr. Cannib. I forgot to do my homework.
MR. CANNIB:
Josh, Derek, outside!
LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
The old man had taken kids out of the classroom before and they always came back with tears in their eyes. As we walked outside I heard a familiar voice.
JERRY:
(OS)
If he touches either of you, kick him in the nuts!
MR. CANNIB:
I told you boys too many times! None of this shit in my classroom! Josh get over here you little prick!
OL' TEACH GRABS JOSH by the NECK.
DEREK:
Hey motherfucker keep your hands to yourself!
CANNIB begins to throttle JOSH. DEREK pushes him off of JOSH and KICKS the TEACHER in the nuts with FURY about 3 times and jumps on top of him while JOSH watches holding his neck.
JERRY:
(OS) While we see Derek's mouth moving
Look here, mother fucker. You think you can be called a teacher for drinking on a farm, fucking cattle and beating children so you can have Summer vacation every year? Fuck you, you spiteful sad man.
DEREK SPITS in the BASTARD'S face and begins to PUNCH him when JOSH pulls him off.
JOSH:
Dude, the door outta here is right there. Lets go to our lockers, get our shit and get outta here.
DEREK:
(Breathing heavily)
Did I just do that? What the fuck? Let's get out of here...now!
CUT TO:
9. EXT. Taft Elementary
A bunch of playground equipment next to an alley with a fenced in field. JOSH and DEREK are walking down the alley. It is sunny outside but about to rain.
DEREK:
That wasn't me that did that.
JOSH:
If it wasn't you who was it?
DEREK:
It w...
JOSH:
(Interrupting)
It really doesn't matter who it was. You got us out of school forever man.
DEREK:
You think so?
JOSH:
We are getting paid, yo.
CUT TO
10. INT. Chillipaqua City Courthouse
The JUDGE bangs his gavel. JOSH and DEREK are seen smiling and pointing at CANNIB while he is on the stand while LATE 20'S DEREK narrates.
LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
And so we did. That incident pulled the liberal media's heartstrings. My mother may have been a bitch, but she was a crafty bitch. We settled in court on a 100,000 dollar payment to both mine and Josh's families.And the fucker of this whole situation was fired and arrested the next week for bestiality and had quite the collection of kiddie porn in his closet!
CUT TO:
11.EXT. A small farm on the edge of town.
MR. CANNIB is pantsless with a goat. We see the cherries and berries come blazing by. Cut to him crying as he is being handcuffed.
CUT TO:
12.INT. Apt 3.
DEREK:
So you guys aren't goat fuckers are you? After all you seem pretty wild.
JULIA:
No.
JANE:
Hell no.
LIZ:
One time I was wearing a skirt and it was a very hot day, and my dog Rufflestiltskin licked my snatch.
JANE, JULIA AND DEREK look on in disgust.
LIZ:
What? I told him to stop.
DEREK:
That's just nasty. Another question and then on to the story again. How old are you girls? This Jane girl looks awfully young.
LIZ:
Me and Julia are 21. I think Jane is 18.
DEREK:
Ahh. Well that's good. The feeling I'm having in my pants looking at you 3 is "okay" then I guess.
JANE:
You make me moist.
LIZ and JULIA look on in TERROR. JANE puts her hand on DEREK'S crotch. DEREK slaps it away.
DEREK:
Hey now! Not right yet you little fucking minx. I have a story to continue.
JANE:
(Disappointed)
Fine.
DEREK:
And so the years pass and our young hero, (ha, me) had grown older and the voices just wouldn't stop after his little incident with his pal the goat fucker. As he grew the voices grew with him. Derek started to become depressed and jaded with the world. He had gotten taller, a bit chubbier, and more handsome. And he had fallen in love. Problem is she was John's girlfriend...and so we find young bespectacled Derek: awkward teenager.
13. INT. Derek's room.
The room is a bit messy. There is an XBOX underneath a small SONY TV. A Micheal Myers poster hangs above his bed. There are blue curtains covering his window. His closet is open and there is a projector and several 35 mm films in there. There is a boom box with a Weezer CD case lying next to it. The Blue album. Derek is on his PC while Only in Dreams is playing in the background. On his computer there are pictures of vile death and pornography. And all of a sudden there is a knock on his door.
DEREK'S MOM:
Boy, you better not be a whacking it!
DEREK:
Goddammit, mom! I will whack it if I feel like it!
DEREK'S MOM:
Well you better put that thing away if you are because there is a girl here to see you! Some girl named Cherise...isn't that Josh's girlfriend?
DEREK:
Oh, fuck! Um...send her in!
CHERISE walks in. She is around 2 years younger than DEREK, very tall as far as girls go, with long blonde hair, skinny yet she has a donk on her. She wears glasses and has braces. Kinda nerdy looking. DEREK has a nervous expression on his face.
CHERISE:
Hi Derek!
DEREK:
Um, hi. What are you doing here.
CHERISE:
Well, 2 reasons. First one is, could I borrow your Bleach CD? That's the only Nirvana album I haven't heard. If I were 20 years older I would have married Kurt instead of that Courtney Love bitch!
DEREK:
I totally understand. Um, yeah it's in my closet underneath my reel of Eraserhead. Let me get it for you.
DEREK walks to his closet and starts rummaging through his shit.
CHERISE:
Second reason is...well, um I'm trying to break up with Josh...
DEREK drops his projector on his foot.
DEREK:
Ow, fuck!
CHERISE:
and I don't know how to go about it. Do you have any ideas?
DEREK seems flustered.
DEREK:
Why...I mean you guys make a great couple.
CHERISE:
But, he is always angry at me if I don't see things his way.
DEREK:
I don't know why he would ever get mad at you. You are so great.
CHERISE:
Well, I did cheat on him with Eric.
DEREK:
That fat fuck?!
DEREK looks disgusted.
CHERISE:
It's like he knows how to respect a woman. Like you...but I could never be with you. You are...too...good.
DEREK:
Good? Like how?
CHERISE:
Like...I don't want to be the one to...ya know...take IT. You need a sweet girl to do that.
DEREK:
But, you are the sweetest girl I know!
Tears well up in DEREK'S eyes. JERRY appears.
Jerry:
Tell her to leave.
DEREK:
I think you should leave.
CHERISE:
I'm sorr--
DEREK:
Leave!
CHERISE looks pissed.
CHERISE:
Fine then you fat loser!
CHERISE leaves. DEREK runs out the door.
DEREK:
Keep fucking drug addicts and losers, ya fucking cunt! Who was the last one? The creepy 30 year old? Keep spreading your legs and you will end up with a little fucker and a man in prison! You're 14 act like it!
DEREK sits down at the desk with anger in his eyes. He reaches in one of the drawers. We see in the drawer there is lotion, paper towels and loosely rolled joints. He pulls out the lotion. DEREK gets on www.stileproject.com and clicks on the most recent link, the Pamela Anderson sex tape which despite being made public nearly a decade ago has finally been linked to Stile Project. DEREK pulls down his pants and starts jerking his wang.
DEREK:
You fucking cunt! You will be mine one day!
We cut to behind DEREK and JERRY is controlling DEREK'S arm.
JERRY:
You see what Tommy Lee is doing with his dick? You will be doing that to Cherise soon enough. Wait...you will convince her. She wants that dick. She just doesn't know it yet.
DEREK cums and takes his shirt and wraps it over his dick to wipe up. What he doesn't get with his shirt he LICKS off of his hand. JERRY looks upon the sad sight that is DEREK licking up his semen.
JERRY:
We will bring her to you. Me and Joe.
CUT TO:
14. Maple Orchard.
DEREK walks down the street to JOSH'S house. JOSH'S house is basically a carbon copy of DEREK'S. There is a green LINCOLN parked in the driveway. DEREK knocks on the window.
JOSH:
Dude, what the fuck? Why the fuck are you waking me up?
DEREK:
It's 4:00 pm, mothafucka! Wake your fat, white ass up and smoke a blunt! I got money lets run out of town to the White Castle!
JOSH:
Fuck, man...give me a few to wake up. My mom will let you in. My Jew dad is at work right now so you're cool.
DEREK walks in.
JOSH'S mom opens the door.
JOSH'S MOM:
Ahh, Derek. Your little middle school friends not aloud to hang out?
DEREK:
Just let me in Melanie.
CUT TO:
15. INT. Josh's house.
DEREK sits down in the house which has an enormous living room and a really big T.V. in it in front of a neatly kept couch.
DEREK:
Hurry the fuck up in there Josh! It doesn't take that long to shit and get changed. I'm starving! Mom hasn't had food in the fridge for a week!
MELANIE:
Why can't your mom afford food for you? You guys have thousands of dollars! How come you can't have food?
DEREK:
Melanie, dear...mother of my best of friends. My mom is a dirty cunt!
MELANIE:
I knew there was a reason I didn't like her.
JOSH comes out of the bathroom.
JOSH:
Fuck, lets go man. I have the new Outkast CD in the stereo. Andre 3000 is a fucking madman!
CUT TO:
16. INT. Josh's Lincoln.
Leather seats, faux wood paneling, a Pioneer CD player, and a little rubber fetus hanging from the rear view mirror. The car cigarette lighter is being used to light a blunt and "Roses" is playing in the background.
JOSH:
Did you watch Chappelle's Show last night?
DEREK:
No man, I'm glued to my computer. Maybe one day when I can watch Comedy Central on my computer I will watch it.
JOSH:
(In a high pitched voice)
A re re visited my work today!
DEREK:
(Laughing maniacally while coughing.)
Oh, really?
JOSH:
(In normal voice)
And not just ANY retard...the king retard!
DEREK:
(gasps)
You are fucking with me. Was...Corky at Olive Garden?
JOSH:
(In high pitched voice again)
Yes!
DEREK:
You are fucking with me.
JOSH:
Seriously dude.
DEREK drops the blunt.
DEREK:
Oh shit!
JOSH slaps DEREK in the back of his head until he picks it up.
JOSH:
Pick it up, brown eye!
DEREK:
Now fuck off, with that shit! I got it.
JOSH:
Give it to me, then.
JOE:
(OS)
Let it slide. Enjoy the marijuana and keep your eyes on the road.
DEREK hits the blunt super hard until he starts coughing up spit on himself. JOSH yanks it out of his hand.
JOSH:
You also need to quit making this thing run with your strong ass lungs.
DEREK:
(Coughing still)
What about Corky?
JOSH:
(Laughs hysterically)
Oh, so you want to hear about mirth and merriment Corky gave me? Well allow me to elaborate.
JOSH hits the blunt 3 times and passes it.
JOSH:
(Exhales followed by a tiny cough.)
Well ol' Corky was sitting at a table that I had to serve. My buddy Jeff was serving a table behind him filled with Hasidic Jews. Like you know how there is Eugene Levy and just slightly higher than that there is my Jewy dad? Well these guys were probably 10 times higher on the Jewometer. Like rabbi's or something. Real Jews, my nig. Well I come up to the table where our favorite retard, Corky is sitting and Corky says to his "handlers" (in full blown tard voice) "Gee, those guys have curly hair...and cool frisbee's on their heads"
DEREK fucking loses it!
JOSH:
You gonna pass that?
DEREK passes the blunt laughing like the deranged bastard he is.
JOSH:
Well, the poor tard said it really loud. So his "handlers" do their best job of telling him a brief history of Judaism while I am taking the orders. As I walk away I hear them mutter something about Haunakah. I go and place the order, by the time I get back with their food, they have finally gotten to the holocaust. Now, I think all he heard, like myself was the beginning and end of the whole conversation. So Corky sees me coming back with his fettucine alfredo gets really happy and breaks into song. Do you want to hear it.
DEREK:
More than I want those jalapeno sliders.
JOSH:
(In the best tard voice ever)
HAUNAKAH HOLOCAUST 8 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS THAT'S RELLY COOL DER'S THE JEW GUYS WIT DER JEW CURLS BUT WATCH OUT FOR DA HITLER HES A BAD BAD MAN HES GONNA GETCHYA WITH HIS EVIL SWASTIKA! HAUNAKAH HOLOCAUST
And he just kept on repeating it over and over. The Jews got pissed and didn't tip Jeff. I distinctly heard one of them saying something about a wood shed and someone beating him way too hard.
DEREK is laughing himself to tears and out of breath.
DEREK:
This couldn't have happened.
JOSH:
That's because it didn't! Ha ha ha!
JOSH pulls up to WHITE CASTLE.
JOSH:
So do we agree on a sack o six each?
DEREK:
Yeah, and a Hawaiian Punch...biggest cup they have.
JOSH:
Yeah that sounds good.
JOSH pulls up to the speaker.
JOSH:
2 jalapeno sacks o 6 and 2 extremely large Hawaiian Punch's.
SPEAKER:
(female voice)
Anything else?
DEREK:
Your number!
JOSH punches DEREK in the arm.
DEREK:
Fuckin' cocksmith!
SPEAKER:
Excuse me?
JOSH:
Don't mind him. He's a virgin.
DEREK has rage in his eyes. He PUNCHES JOSH in his nads.
JOSH:
Wait until we get out of the car, motherfucker.
JOSH pulls up to the window. They see a raven haired goddess with black horn rimmed glasses taking orders.
BANGIN' WHITE CASTLE EMPLOYEE:
That will be 10.99.
DEREK is stunned.
DEREK:
(whispering)
Oh, no...you are fucked when we get out of this car.
They get their sacks o 6 and start eating them on the way home.
CUT TO:
17. INT. Josh's Lincoln/Ext. Josh's driveway.
JOSH:
Lets get out of the car.
DEREK:
One minute...
DEREK pulls out a peach WHITE OWL and half a sack that roughly took 20 dollars and persuasion to obtain.
DEREK:
We need to talk.
JOSH eases his way back into the car.
JOSH:
About what?
DEREK:
Cherise.
JOSH:
Goddammit, what now Derek? Is it still the ol' I saw her first routine? Or do you still think she's in love with you?
DEREK looks hurt, but shrugs it off.
DEREK:
No...sit down and roll this blunt.
DEREK hands JOSH the weed and SHELL.
DEREK:
Now, Josh. Listen to me...Cherise is a fickle bitch. She is also a slut...A 13 year old slut. You are going to be a senior next year...I am going to let you roll the blunt and light it before I tell you. So in the meantime...
DEREK reaches for a CD in the visor sleeve. He pulls out WEEZER'S "Green Album" and plays "Hash Pipe."
DEREK:
(to the tune of the song)
Get that blunt rolled, get that blunt rolled, get that blunt rolled. I can understand why you look so pissed. You know somethings wrong, that somethings amiss. I know that you don't care, but I want you to know, that your girl Cherise is kind of a ho! Oh...come on and roll that...oh...come on and roll that. Oh...this bitch is a problem, she rubs it at night. Oh...you roll that blunt so...we need no hash pipe. DUNDUNDUNDUNDUNDUNDUN
JOSH:
Shut the fuck up, here!
JOSH lights it and passes it to DEREK. DEREK hits it.
DEREK:
So, ol braceface was talking to me. She told me she was thinking about dumping you...something about he doesn't treat me right...he gets angry when things don't go his way.
JOSH looks angry.
JOSH:
And I'm supposed to believe you?
DEREK:
You're a big boy, you can decide for yourself. She's gonna leave you man.
JOSH PUNCHES DEREK in the FACE!
JOSH:
I don't fucking believe you, you son of a bitch!
JERRY:
(OS)
NOW!
DEREK gets out of the car.
DEREK:
C'mon old friend, don't let some stank ass pussy get between us. Now why don't you come on out of the car and give me a hug?
JOSH LEAPS out of the car. He tackles the shit out of DEREK.
DEREK:
Now that's more like it!
DEREK knees JOSH in the BALLS HARD!
JOSH:
(winded)
I will kill you!
DEREK:
Maybe you should give her a call. I'm going home.
DEREK turns around and starts walking. JOSH RUNS at him and hits him in the back of the head.
DEREK:
Now, goddammit man that hurt! Chill the fuck out, man. Bros 'fore hoes!
DEREK has a devious smile on his face.
DEREK:
You should think really fucking hard about what you said about killing me today. I have a screw loose motherfucker! Now, if you want to fight, there are better places. We need to go somewhere else with this. An unbiased environment. I tell you what, we can have a fight at the ballpark in Yolentangee park tomorrow if you are still butthurt.
JOSH calms a bit.
JOSH:
Then it's settled. We will fight tomorrow in the ballpark.
DEREK:
Fine then. I am going home now. Maybe you can chill te fuck out tomorrow so you won't be so easy to whoop.
DEREK turns around and goes home. JOSH is yelling obscenities while crying at the same time.
CUT TO:
18. INT Derek's room.
DEREK is at the computer having freshly gotten his nut watching BANGBROS for 2 hours. We see him pulling up his pants. He looks in the drawer at his desk and pulls out a knife. 2 figures appear. One is dressed head to toe in black with a lip piercing and long black hair. The other has shaggy brown hair and a beard with khakis on and a tie dye t shirt. We recognize them as JOE and JERRY.
JOE:
Put it away.
JERRY:
You need that knife. Do you think he won't put up a fight?
JOE:
Put it away!!
DEREK slices his wrist. Blood comes shimmering down his fore arm. He runs into his mothers bedroom and blacks out. This is all shown from DEREK'S P.O.V.
19. Hospital room.
As his eyes open he is in a hospital bed. There are nurses asking him questions he doesn't understand. He sees the needle in his arm and rips it out. He lunges at one of the nurses.
DEREK:
(Screaming)
Wanna taste!!!???? I wanna taste of you! Lemme see dat ass!
OLDER DEREK:
(OS)
I had decided to ignore these thoughts, but the thought of having these thoughts didn't have me thinking clearly!
20. INT. Apt. 3
JULIA and LIZ are frightened. JANE has her cell phone out. DEREK leans over JANE.
DEREK:
What are you doing?
JANE:
Why, telling everyone on facebook how ----
DEREK grabs her cell phone and THROWS it through the WINDOW.
DEREK:
Now listen here, bitch. No one needs to know of me or the predicament you three are in. If I see any of you texting or using your phones then you will be shot. Consider this your only warning.
JANE actually looks terrified for once and hangs her head in disappointment like she is sad she disappointed DEREK.
DEREK:
Now where was I? Ah, yes. My stay in the looney bin as a spry, yet unwilling teen.
LIZ:
Wait...what happened with Josh?
DEREK:
All in due time, my stoned and buxom friend.
21. INT. The Looney Bin.
There are pastel colored walls and a room full of stumbling wrecks. Teenage boys and girls on Ritalin and Valium. There is a tv in the middle of the room and magazines and colored pencils strewn about. One boy catches the cameras eye.
OLDER DEREK:
(OS)
I met this fellow named Trevor in there, he was a half white, half dark boy with a bushy fro. Couldn't have been much younger than I. I struck up a friendship with him. He is very quiet and says crazy shit when he does speak.
16 year old DEREK:
If you give me your meds I will give you mine.
JERRY:
Have fun.
22. GROUP TIME AT THE LOONEY BIN!
All the schizoid wrecks of human beings converse about how hard their lives have been, all the while Trevor has a strange look in his eyes.
COUNSELOR:
So what makes you happy, Trevor?
TREVOR:
Rape and violence.
COUNSELOR:
(Raises eyebrow)
What was that?
TREVOR:
(Rather quietly)
Peace and silence.
COUNSELOR:
(sarcastically)
Oh, really?
TREVOR:
You must have misread me.
COUNSELFUCK writes on his notepad.
23. Same Looney Bin Place Different Looney Bin Time.
INT. DEREK and TREVOR'S room
DEREK is sleeping.
TREVOR is trying to pick the lock of the window with a paperclip and a plastic knife.
DEREK awakens.
DEREK:
I've been up for 3 days, and I (yelling) FINALLY GOT THE FUCK TO SLEEP! what THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?
TREVOR:
I'm trying to get the fuck out of here!
DEREK:
Dude! Why? It's fucking awesome here! There is a sterile living environment, hot milfy nurses, television, 3 squares and a snack, plus you fucking know you aren't the craziest mofo in here! Everyone in here is either whoring or shooting smack! There is no such thing as a "troubled teen" anymore. That shit died in the 90's when they realized it was all the trip drugs their mothers did when they were pregnant. This is a new generation sir! It's 2005! You have at least 5 years to go before life is shitty for you, don't speed it up.
TREVOR:
They know I'm not taking my meds.
DEREK:
Well fuck, lets just switch back our meds! I don't need to speed like this, the voices won't fucking stop!
TREVOR:
Okay, maybe we will get out of here sooner and I will stop acting like a sociopath.
DEREK:
That's the ticket, m'boy!
24. On the outside.
DEREK:
You got a cigarette?
TREVOR:
No. I don't smoke.
DEREK:
Well, fuck! What good are you then?
DEREK pulls out a HEATER cigarette. They heat your throat with a 100% tobacco aroma. He lights it.
DEREK:
You know what? I could use a guy like you in my corner when the voices start acting up again.
TREVOR:
What do you mean?
DEREK:
(Takes a long drag off his Heater)
You could tell me what not to do. Keep me cool. Jerry is a swift bastard, he is!
TREVOR:
Who the fuck is Jerry?
DEREK:
In due time you will find out. Jerry likes you though. Joe likes you too. They never agree on anything, which means you are cool. Just keep your head when things go awry.
TREVOR:
What the fuck are you on?
DEREK:
(flicks his cigarette)
Life and everything in it!
DEREK's car pulls up. It's JOSH in his Lincoln.
JOSH:
Dammit fuck brain, you were right!
DEREK:
I fucking told you!
DEREK acknowledges TREVOR.
DEREK:
This is my childhood pal Josh.
TREVOR:
Hey.
JOSH:
What kind of crazy are you?
TREVOR:
Not his kind, I assure you.
DEREK gets in the car.
DEREK:
I will see you around, man. I got work to do!
JOSH speeds out of the parking lot.
CUT TO:
25. INT. APT. 3
JULIA:
So that's it? That's how you guys made up?
DEREK:
Well, I did make a phone call to him the previous day.
CUT TO:
26, Nuthouse the day before
DEREK picks up the phone.
DEREK:
Hey, man. You still mad?
JOSH:
(On the phone)
Nope. You were right. Dumb cunt left me for a 20 year old.
DEREK:
Kids these days, eh? I have a situation. I am inside the institute for the criminally insane and I need you to give me a ride out of here.
JOSH:
Why are you in there for?
DEREK:
My arms. Threatening nurses. Depression.
JOSH:
Goddammit you big fucking emo! I will be there soon.
CUT TO:
27. INT. Apt. 3
JULIA:
Ah, makes sense.
JANE:
So, you had a rough time in your teenage years, didn't ya?
DEREK:
The rough times didn't even begin yet...eh...
DEREK looks over at LIZ who looks to be passed out.
DEREK:
Julia...is she dead?
JULIA shakes her. LIZ throws up
LIZ:
Sh...smack.
JULIA:
She's fine.
DEREK:
Well, wake her ass up!
JULIA:
I can't she is uber stoned.
DEREK:
I can wake her up.
DEREK takes off his trenchcoat and unzips his pants. He pulls down her pants revealing a plump, perfect ass. He turns her over and starts fucking her hard. JANE looks extremely jealous.
DEREK:
Wake up. bitch!
LIZ starts to wake up, but doesn't tell him to stop. She moans uncontrollably.
LIZ:
Harder!
By this point both JANE and JULIA are masturbating and they start eating each other out. DEREK is going so hard LIZ' tit pops out. He pulls out and sticks his dick in LIZ' beautiful mouth, choking her on his cock.
LIZ:
(choking and slurping)
DEREK:
Taste that cock! You're next Julia!
JULIA stops eating JANE. Her eyes widen and her jaw drops. DEREK pulls out of LIZ' mouth and cums all over her face. DEREK slaps her and spits on her face.
DEREK:
Stay awake!
Note: this is a poetic translation of the poem 'Der Elefant', which I wrote originally in German.
-----------
The Elephant
He lies in the grasses
A white monolith
His skull a great mountain
Armored in ivory
Half buried, one tusk
spears the night sky
The black void of an eye
devours the moon
His grave is a secret
Hidden by time and
corrosion of memory
The others lie in
faraway grasses
Their departure was for him
the departure of his voice
The warmth of his songs
flowed colorless from his
mouth
and with each song his
life left him in one great
exhale
did I see a ghost
in this cave?
perhaps it is just a shadow
from some lingering fire
that caught my eye, chilled my spine
it made no sound, but smelled
like wet winter leaves
some claim
to see Jesus in toast
why can’t I then,
see a ghost
holy or not, sifting sublimely
through the dank air
silently screaming for justice
for crimes of the heart
we wakeful walkers
obliviously commit
did I see a ghost
in this cavern
where flesh still stings
from the flash of the first sun,
or is it just a shadow
I have not yet cast?
.........................................................
September warmth is in the air,
That playful tapping
Of the breeze
As it winds its way
Through the laurel trees
That line Eastwind,
And finally
Up over the cobbled stone
Of Mr. Willow's
Sarsparilla Soda Shoppe.
And there he is,
Outside his storefront
Sweeping away leaves
And dust
And late afternoon
Cigarette buts.
Jabe's running around
Like a bobber,
Up and about the yard,
Kicking at the nectarine tree
And demanding it
Drop its sword
And surrender.
And Annie tells on him
Right respectfully,
Pointing all the while,
Letting Momma know Jabe's
Gonna get himself hurt
Again if that tree
Ever gets mad.
And Dad's outside
Cleaning the windshield on the car,
Eying every streak he misses
And then giving it a name
I'm not supposed to ever say.
He hits the car again
With the garden hose
And washes her off,
Suds and soap splashing
Against the concrete
Of the driveway
As Momma hollers out
At Jabe to get his rear end
Back in the house
And get himself ready.
I go in and change my shirt.
It's hot, the best kind of hot,
And the sky is clear,
And the Summer air smells
Like a barbeque. The best
Parts of Summer always seem
To come when you're heading
Into other things - and if you
Don't keep your wits about you,
You'll miss 'em. They'll just
Wisp away like dew in the
Morning. So I get a clean shirt,
Change my shoes,
And grab my sweater
And head out.
And there's Momma holding
Onto Jabe's hand, and he's
Not too pleased. And Annie
Is holding her SusieQ Doll
And wondering about the fuss,
And Dad's smiling and shutting
The hose off and finishing those
Last few brushes across the
Windshield.
In just moments we're all tucked in,
Windows all rolled down,
Heading up the highway away
From the sun. Momma's got
Her pointy sunglasses on, and she's
Holding her hand out into the wind
Like a movie star. And Dad's
Shifting gears and putting his arm
Around Momma, and I see
Airplanes taking off not too far away
In an open field, those kind you pay
Three dollars for a ride on, and
They swoop you over the town
And you get to see everything lit up,
And you get to puke in a paper sack.
But that's not where we're going.
Dad just drives right on by, and
We watch as the planes and their
Pilots and the little fat kid with the red
Hair disappear into the haze.
Further up the road the lights of the town
Gently flicker away, and the sun
Rests over the horizon, and stars
Peek out overhead one by one, watching
Us I suppose, keeping an eye on the
Shiny not so new car with the three
Streaks across the windshield Dad
Missed.
And the wind picks up just a little,
Still warm, still alive. And I stick my head
Out the window just to get the wind rushing
Across my face, through my hair.
Nothing like wind racing through your hair,
I thought. And I was right.
The horns brought me back to reality,
And up ahead I saw cars waiting in line,
And there was laughter, and the long
Tall green wooden fence lined the road
Half way to forever and back again.
Inside giant white unpainted signs
Stared at you, and as we pulled up
To the old man smoking on what was
Once a cigarette, he asked how many
And Dad said two adults three kids
And the old man peeked at us inside
And Dad paid a few dollars and we drove
Inside. Slowly, up and down and up again,
Like a sea of black asphalt. And Annie
Giggled.
Dad finally parked, and the car was
Facing up, like it was reaching up
Into the sky, except that the big white
Signboard was in our way. And outside
People were happy, had their radio's on,
Jumping, running. Other kids were there,
And we wanted to get out and run around too,
But Momma said hell no. And Dad kissed Momma
And got out and left us, and the dark grew,
And I breathed in the scent of hot dogs and
Cotton Candy and Popcorn and Pretzels and
French Fries and Hamburgers and it was
Like Heaven.
Seemed like forever since Dad had left,
And Momma got out and hoisted up a metal
Box onto the back window right beside me,
And then she got back inside and closed her
Window some. Annie asked Momma what
We were waiting for, and Jabe shoved his
Sling-Shot into my ribs and said "Stick 'em up."
And I took it away and tossed it into the front
Seat, and he cried.
Then the giant posterboard lit up some, and
Mentioned a snack bar, and I wanted to go.
After that they showed a Popeye cartoon,
And Dad made it back in time to give us all
Something to eat, say shut up, and take his seat
Up front.
I'd never seen a screen so big. Never knew Popeye
Could punch Bluto and still be nice to Whimpy.
And we laughed, and the warm wind tapped against
The car, and radio's quieted down, and everyone
Was drawn to the giant picture. And we laughed.
Annie and Jabe were both asleep by the time
Dorothy made it back home. And she was telling
Aunty Em all about where she'd been, what she'd
Done. And they rolled a bunch of names,
And Dad said so how'd you like the drive-in?
And I stared at the big screen with bright,
Wide eyes, wanting more,
I didn't want the words to stop,
The story to end.
All I said was that's the biggest tv I ever saw.
And it was. And I was right.
And I guess that's when Dad
Had to laugh at me again.
Copyright © 2012 Richard D. Remler
Where your eyes view comfort, my eyes shy away in fear. Those fingertips you wish to lace with yours, as you lay dreaming on your aged duvet, are the embodiment of an age-old prison. Those fingers lacing mine like thick nylon rope laced through fingertips and wrists. Soft voice infused with poison constricting my body with the force of two angered hangs closing around my neck. Harsh lips like fists against malleable skin, leaving dirty stains and marks of possession on a once-white canvas that has marred itself beyond recognition. Insincere words spilling from vacant hearts, swearing of a beauty neither can see, yet you consume the words like a holy salvation. What little comfort lies in a body created for the very intention of torture.
Come with me and seek comfort and love from the fabric from which we were created. The comfort of a universe that lies on your very fingertips. The particles in the center of my right thumb created in a deceased star whose light is just now visible to my eager eye, the atoms vibrating on my stark white scalp arriving on my body after travelling farther in the universe than any human eye has witnessed, the pounding molecules rushing through every inch of my body as a thick red liquid originating in the center of the universe (an unimaginably breath-taking home). These particles have touched surfaces the human mind has yet to dream of touching, yet they have chosen this surface- your body- to faithfully support before resuming their flurry of activity. A deeper love than that that can be provided by an insufficient human body.
One of the topics that broached while in class was…Is Rap Poetry…I simply replied yes that it is in fact poetry and that I ‘am a poet there was a quick reply quite loudly stated that no it is not, as to this response I was baffled as to why students firmly believed that Rap is not poetry. Hence the debate
_______________
Debate: Is Rapping Poetry
Positive:
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Rapping (also known as emceeing MCing, spitting bars or rhyming) refers to "spoken or chanted rhyming lyrics". The art form can be broken down into different components, where it is separated into “content”, “flow” (rhythm and rhyme), and “delivery”. Rapping is distinct from spoken word poetry in that it is performed in time to a beat.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
This particular information was obtained from the world renowned site Wikipedia under the title Rapping, so the quote rhythm and rhyme are associated with what is commonly known as Rapping.
It has been a fascinating eye opener for me to write this particular piece in regards to the origins of both rap and poetry…both types of oral communication through which we like to convey to the audience in a lyrical format that all can understand and appreciate. So Rakim and Big Daddy Kane agree upon the fact that rhyme is often thought to be the most important factor of rap writing…rhyme is what gives rap lyrics their musicality.
These men are well known Rappers in their own right and have written a book simply called ‘How to Rap’ It has been noted that rap’s use of rhyme is some of the most advanced in all forms of poetry – music scholar Adam Bradley notes “rap rhymes so much and with such variety that it is now the largest and richest contemporary archive of rhymed words. It has done more than any other art from in recent history to expand rhyme’s formal range and expressive possibilities.
RYHM is in as we all know part of our English which encompasses the use of lyrical words in a format which depending the writer’s expressive writing can either be in Poetry format or lyrical poetry format…and depending on the syllabus and the tone of the writing of poetry or lyrical poetry it can be expressed in song, poetry or rap.
I would like to demonstrate with you my own rhyming of words that I wrote myself to demonstrate this factor.
My Rap Poem
Ryming and Poetry
Yo yo lets Rap it..
Yo yo lets gap it…
Rhyming and Poetry
Meaning words
Don’t diss a poet
Whose passion is words?
What fool told you
That rap aint poem
Aint it a fact
That rap is words
Aint it a fact
That poems is words
So don’t tell me
RAP aint poetry
Take it from a poet
Whose passion is words?
TAKE DAT….WORD OUT
I would also like to quote a poem that was written by a poet and this particular poem became famous not only in the poetry world but world wide
The Rose that Grew from Concrete
Did you hear about the rose that grew
from a crack in the concrete?
Proving nature's law is wrong it
learned to walk without having feet.
Funny it seems, but by keeping its dreams,
it learned to breathe fresh air.
Long live the rose that grew from concrete
when no one else ever cared.
This poem was written by a Mr Tupac Shakur or better known as 2pac, Shakur began his career as a roadie, backup dancer, and MC for the alternative hip hop group Digital Underground, eventually branching off as a solo artist he was also a poet.
___________________
Debate:
Is Rap Poetry or not Poetry
Negative:
This debate came about when we were in class and my tutor said that Rap is Poetry, Myself and Lee said verbally no it is not. This is why we are having this debate.
Rap is one of the biggest selling music genres today, and many rap artists also consider themselves modern day poets, as do their fans. Whether you prefer poetry over rap or the other way, around there are definitely similarities and differences between both art forms. The main difference is the music. In poetry, a combination of words will create a rhythm such as iambic pentameter, the first word is an unaccented syllable followed by an accented syllable with total of 10 syllables with a total of 10 syllables per line. There is a rhythm to the phrasing of poetry and rapping. The difference is that. The rhythm of rap, works in conjunction to the beat of the music, so although the phrasing can be different, both retain a certain type of rhythm and flow of words.
Although rhyming isn’t always present in rap or poetry, it certainly is common. In some poetry, the words at the end of two consecutive lines will rhyme, or the words at the end of the second or fourth lines. However, some artists will make a variation of rhymes throughout the poem. Rap will also rhyme, but the beats of the music will sometimes dictate the phrasing as well as the placement of the rhyming words.
With poets and rappers, one of the biggest similarities is their desire to convey a message. The content may differ, but the need to evoke an emotion response is the same. It’s typically driven by their view of the world or society and wanting to state their point of view. There is often the use of metaphors within poetry and rap to convey their message and some is written that allows readers or listeners to make their own interpretation.
The most obvious difference in these two artistic styles is that rap is words put to music, and poetry is not. Also, big considerations in rap music are the beats and the groove. In poetry, there is nothing consider but the words and the rhythm and rhyme. However, in rap the importance of the beats can sometimes overshadow the importance of lyrics. Rappers are also sometimes concerned with whether or not people can dance to the song. Chances are you won’t find many poets that are concerned with whether or not their poems will inspire them to dance while reading them.
Matthews Conclusion
As an old saying goes listen to the music not the beat, the words feel the pain and emotion it screams listen to their story as in the life you learn from the stories. You gain pain you feel emotion, you get lost in the rap. Know what their dreams and hopes are in the word, as the beat was just the drive like your own heart, different beat, different words, but one heart and one song. I remember a time when music use to relate to what we do, a thing we hope to say to a lover, or a crushing dream, or to be a Casanova knowing that if you could not say a thing in your mind or heart the song could say it for you. One time I remember being so angry at the world, and my family, had dark times my world, writing poetry couldn’t cut it for me, it could explain and yes it rhymes it sounds good, but it always seems to miss its point for me, but one thing remains with me, I time a shared with friends around a few drinks, I heard a song by 2pac about his mama, what he said, really explained what a mother is thinking, this guy knew what I was thinking and how I felt, he knew how to explain his point. I sat their listening to his rap, he said; ‘Aint no women alive that can take my mamas place’. I wondered as I kept listening to his song, I felt we related on a higher level, I can’t explain how this guy can put words in a rap that helped me through a dark time in my life, and Rap as always been a big influence in my life.
___________________
It was interesting how the topic ended, and as a poet I still believe in the positive but the opposing team closure had me thinking again but then I realized he has not been exposed to poetry in general…so therefor it was indeed an eye opener for me. The positive was myself the negative was a student of mine Matthew, His last conclusion of the debat was written in his own words, I am very proud of his work and I will as a poet will introduce more works to him as the course grows...I have told them I am a poet...they laughed at me hence the debate... I just had to prove my point and you know me...never step down from any challange...grins...anyone else want to prove to this young man that Rap is Poetry. Negatives 5 votes Postitive 5 votes...that was a surprise in itself.
My students are Matthew, Lee, Samson, Ken and Ngametua.
I would also like to thank Silentwriter for giving me the idea Rythem And Poetry as a heading for my rap thank you sir.
Blessed is your devotion, offering better wishes;
Lips were bestowed upon me with lovable kisses;
You had brought my soul from most evil to the best;
I cache you the most in this existence as my dearest;
Since you altered my life within a flash of an eye;
And by an embrace of your body, you said bye;
Are you a graceful guardian angel sent from above;
To take care of me and shower me with pure love;
It so magical those things you've made;
To bring back my confidence that almost fade;
A desire to nurture your soft white wing;
While all glittering stars line up to sing.
BY
WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
williamsji@yahoo.com
www.williamsji.com
www.williamsmaveli.com
www.williamsgeorge.com
(All poems in this series are, translations from Malayalam, originally written in author’s mother-tongue, “Malayalam’”, the language of Kerala, in South India.)
BY WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
williamsji@yahoo.com
www.williamsji.com
I was told I was being mean
For writing what I do not understand
I understand more than you think
Hmmm If I have offended you in anyway
I do apologies
But yeah
I was beyond caring what anyone thought at one stage
How many times did I try to kill myself?
Rape is one thing a person wants to forget
Don’t care how
You just want to get rid of all the memories
Then putting myself in stupid situations where I opened myself up to more....rapes
Getting drunk...waking up in strange rooms...gang rapes...it goes on
Not knowing where I was or what happened
Then remembering everything
Forever being a victim
I got sick of it
I was doing it to myself simple because I wanted to forget
Drinking...drugs...it won’t help you forget it’s just there
You have to live with it
I’m a 50 year old mother with an 18 year old boy
Because of what happened to me
I was protective of my boy
Even his father was raped
So its possible males can get raped too
When I looked in to my boy’s eyes as he was growing up
They were innocent
As a victim you can see the signs
Thank God he didn’t have any signs of being raped
You don’t see that innocence in a victim’s eye
A lot of my poems are about rape
From the victims point of view
Yeah I am being mean
I suppose in way
But then if I am
It’s because many times in my life yes I have wanted to die
I have wanted to take my life
But I suppose I was too chicken too
I’d rather live and be alive
Even though I still remember every single detail of being
Raped...humiliated....degradation…kicked around and beaten
So if that’s not knowing anything, then I don’t know what is
Once again I would like to apologies to you if I have offended you in anyway
It was not my intention
But I stand by what I say
You get past all of that...pain.... anger.... hatred
Feeling like no one cares
Or ever will
But you can never forget the horror of what did happened to you
It lives with you forever...
It becomes a part of your life..
Still get flash’s
That’s the worst part of all this
Remembering what happened.
And one more thing
If I refer to anyone as a fool when in pain
Then I must be the biggest fool in the world
©Kaila George 2013
I lead truth like a thread
through the eye of my
needle, stitched into your iris
and sewed up the virus.
Took bets on bids.
Two kids walking train tracks under your eyelids.
You tell me that I am young
That life has merely licked me, not stung
That I do not understand, that I have not yet lived
Enough to grasp the substance
I have known disease
Slow tears, muted pleas
Pain that nothing could appease
I have known the smell of hospitals for summers
The beeping and slurping of machine in massive numbers
I have spoken to voiceless loved ones,
Loved ones with teethless mouths and twisted tongues
Distorted jaws and wheezing lungs.
We have spoken with little green charts
And broken hearts
From the inability to connect the mouth to the thoughts in the head
And I left without understanding,
What they had said
Because I eventually had to let it go
(I still don't know)
I have spent countless summer nights
In nature’s garb, floating silently in a river
So warm that my limbs, skimming the surface, didn't shiver
Under a clear sky, the stars like paradisiac lights
Without anyone ever finding out
About these wild and primal escapades
I've drank, I've smoked
I have burned my throat
With coarse lemon gin
Until I could no longer feel my skin.
I have been frightened
Yes I have felt fear, like a noose around my throat being tightened
Like a gruesome black crow, perched on my shoulder
I have often awoken affright at night,
Longing, praying, for the morning light
I have felt fear, wild, fierce and turbulent fear
More than anyone will everyone will ever know
By men, by life, by myself
Desolate under the sheets, like a forsaken toy
All by myself
I have seen Paris in the rain
Traveled the French countryside by train
I've woken up to New York window views
And seen New Orleans afternoons, filled with heat and blues.
I've swam the Mexican Baja waters, turquoise and clear
With snakes as sharp as spears
I have known humiliation
Causing my cheeks to turn carnation
A spoon, emptying my insides out
Like a gourd
I have loved
I have known the aching pain of a swelled heart
And the way it can tear you apart
I have gushed torrents upon my pillows and sleeves
Tears running down my chin like guilty thieves
From a lit-up house
I have known death, and grief
The meaning of "never"
Whimpering in the school bathroom
And cold, lonely nights
I have seen the works of Van Gogh, Mondrian, and Miro,
Modigliani, Cezanne, and Frida Kahlo
Of Monet, Gauguin, Matisse, Magritte, and Picasso
I have wandered through hallways of masterpieces
Holding tight to my grandmother's hand
And I have wept shamelessly for joy
Before Degas's La classe de danse
I have been diagnosed
I have undergone computer programs designed to shift my brain, to better it
To get me to be normal, to submit
I have had brain-altering medicine shoved down my throat,
Like stuffing a goose,
To make my brain run a little less loose
And I have submitted and gotten use to my brain being altered.
I have had kisses that were mere trifles
Frivolous, yet fierce and acute like shots from a rifle
Lips of mere flesh, not sweet godly nectar
And gazes that meant everything
That seemed to connect with an invisible yet indestructible string
Iris like distant galaxies and pupils twinkling like black jewels
Eyes that seemed enkindled by some ethereal fuel
Speaking of emotions far too secluded, cryptic and cluttered
To be worded and uttered
I know the way in which violence resides
Not in commotion, brusqueness, nor physical harm
But in silence
In the time that covers pain and secrets
In the slow impossibility of trust
In the way that some secrets become inconceivable to tell, time has so covered them in rust
In that dull, dismal ache
In all that is doomed to remain forever opaque.
I have read, for pleasure,
The works of Balzac, Fitzgerald, Steinbeck, and Voltaire
Of Bobin, Gaude, and Baudelaire
Of Flaubert, Hemingway
and good old Bradbury, Ray
Émile Zola, Primo Levi
Moliere, Rousseau, and Bukowski
I have read, and loved, and understood
I have known insomnia
The way a beach knows the tides
Sleepless nights of convulsive, feverish panic, of clutching my sides,
Of silent hysteria and salty terror.
I know what happens at night, when sweet slumber seems so far away
The worries and woes seem to multiply and swell in hopeless disarray
My lips grow pale, my eye grow sunken
As a time ticks by, tomorrow darkens
I have witnessed horror
In the form of a blue body bag
Being rolled out with a squeaking drag
By two yellow-vested men
With apologetic eyes
That seemed to say "Oh god
We're so sorry you had to see that
Please, please
Go home
And try to forget"
But you are right
I am still just a child
Naive, innocent, and pure
I have known nothing dark or obscure
I have not yet lived.
