Poetry Slam

5 Years Old

Exxon Valdez.
Nine-Eleven. YouTube.
Baconater. Bre-X. Battlefield Earth.
Two Girls.
One Cup.
I will grow up in an age without heroes.
Except Spiderman.

10 Years Old

Watching Who’s The Boss
Samantha makes my pants stir.
Ay-oh. Oh-ay.

15 Years Old

u r pwnzrd n00b
fag
I am so alone.

20 Years Old

In every university,
There's a special prof,
With whom you will develop
A timeless bond.
There will come a special time
that you’ll think
way back and say "That teacher
really cared!"
So why doesn’t the bitch keep office hours?

25 Years Old

Tappada-tappada-tappada.
Tappada-click-tappada.
Click-tappada-tappada.
Click-tappada-click.
Tappada-tappada-click.
Click-click-click.
Was it a pretty day?

Breaking The Fourth Wall

Hey you.
Read this poem.
You obey me.

Dog

It’s dinner time.
It’s dinner time.
It’s dinner time.
Blood kill death.
Shut up and look at him for lamb.

Donkey Berlin

Donkey-Hitler is in his bunker.
Bites the cyanide capsule and descends.
Into Satan’s ass-hole.

The Worst Story Ever Written (or University Entrance Exam)

Space-Captain John William Anderson pushed the hair out of his face, stepped off of his Nimbus SpeedCycle and took a quick look around the area. If there was going to be trouble, he thought, this is where it would happen. The rain poured down hard on them both, making loud patta-patta-patta sounds against the hard concrete.

“That’s onomatopoeia.” he yelled behind him at his companion, remembering what he had learned from his wise-old ninja master. “After all this rising action, we must be approaching the climax soon.”

A rustling could be heard down a dark alley. John William Anderson reached for his laser-crossbow and set it to Level 24. Danger was lurking here.

“Wait here. I’ll check this out.” he said, slowly walking in the direction of the noise.

The rain poured harder and it was getting tough to see. He put on his night-vision glasses and set them to night-vision mode, illuminating the alleyway a little more. Still nothing. He ventured a little deeper.

He thought he heard something being whispered up ahead. Confused and uncertain, he kept walking forward down the dark alley. Garbage cans littered the red-bricked alley walls (pun not intended). Suddenly he heard yelling behind him.

“Watch out!” cried Maria Spanks.

He turned around: this was no hyperbole! He totally could’ve easily taken down one or two, but three Velociraptors were just too many to stop.

“Nooooooooooooo!!!!!!”

A Tale of Two Cities as told by 15-year olds in an online chatroom

*[Darnay8====>] has entered the chatroom*
[Darnay8====>] : wat up peeps?
dfarge69: im gonna kill you fag
[Darnay8====>] : ?
[Darnay8====>] : huh?
[Darnay8====>] : why?
[Darnay8====>] : hello?
dfarge69: yer a fuckin evrémonde, dats why
[Darnay8====>] : so?
dfarge69: stfu marquis pig
[Darnay8====>] : w/e
*[Darnay8====>] has left the chatroom*
*SidCarton has changed his name to [Darnay8====>]*
[Darnay8====>] : okay, lets do this….:-(

Unlikely Morals to Stories

• The establishment loves you and wants you to be happy.
• You will be punished for your kindness.
  
• This could have all been prevented if we simply listened to each other less.
• Don't mess with dad when he's drunk.
• Plants are highly intelligent, but can only feel pain.
• Your class, grace and politness is directly responsible for troop surges in Iraq