Categories
Mikie Writes Scenes

Gay Movie

A scene from the script I’m writing for my untitled project. Dennis and Eddy briefly discuss the homosexual themes in a romantic movie. (Names not final)

(on the couch, in front of the tv)

Eddy: This is by far the gayest movie on the planet

Dennis: How the fuck is it gay? It’s a hetero couple!

Eddy: Who gives a fuck if it’s a dude and chick, the real crime is that they’re
sittin there talkin about ‘love’ and ‘forever’ and shit when they should be
talkin bout gettin down.

Dennis: Gettin down?

Eddy: Yeah, you know, makin with the sex

Dennis: I know what you mean. Don’t you think they’re gonna eventually fuck?

Eddy: Well yeah they’re gonna eventually fuck, but in this scene they’re only bein
all romantic and shit. That shit’s for pussies.

Dennis: Dude, do you even have half a brain?

Eddy: Hear me out, so fine, they make with the fuckin later, and that’s cool, but
you’re tellin me that these two bitches have to make me sit here and
watch their pansy-ass love story unfold while gettin no pay-off? That shit’s
gay.

Dennis: Dude, there’s a major pay-off here. They’re embarking on the greatest
journey ever. The journey of love.

Eddy: Case in fucking point. You watch this scene, and next thing I know
you’re sittin here vomiting this gay journey of love bullshit like it’s some
gay disease. Well I tell you one thing, my friend, I am NOT sticking
around to catch it.

Dennis: Point taken. But hey, you know how I know you’re gay?

Eddy: Don’t even get me started…

 

Categories
Mikie Writes Poetry

Maniac

crazy, dingy, batty, bonkers and berserk
screwy, kooky, mental, and maybe even mad
Some call me just plain silly
I prefer maniac
You can’t see with your eyes,
Til you believe with your mind
And then you are mine
They’ve got you trapped in a lie
When you believe you’re alive
And don’t forget where you’re from
I once read that in a book
I can no longer preach what they took
Cause then they’ll say I’m
crazy, dingy, batty, bonkers and berserk
screwy, kooky, mental, and maybe even mad
Some call me just plain silly
I prefer maniac
Maniacal freedom
with maniacal justice
You heard of eye for an eye?
How you think that bitch had gone blind?
I’ve got maniacal truths
Yelled down from the mountains
T.V controls the thoughts of our youth
But it’s only you that can stop them
And only if you’re
crazy, dingy, batty, bonkers and berserk
screwy, kooky, mental, and maybe even mad
Some call me just plain silly
I prefer maniac
They say I tell maniacal lies
That I am wasting your time
When I spit maniacal rhymes
That what I’m doing’s a crime
I call them cowards
Screaming from their ivory towers
Saying it’s my voice that must be silenced
Saying that all free voices are pirates
Or worse, they slap more labels on you
and ship you off to cabu
Shit, Cuba. This whole things fuckin taboo.
They say I’m
crazy, dingy, batty, bonkers and berserk
screwy, kooky, mental, and maybe even mad
Some call me just plain silly
I prefer maniac
Yeah I’m a maniac, one not of homicide, but of biocide,
of deicide, and fratricide
of xenocide and viricide
Tyrranicide and linguicide
Geocide and politicide
Mariticide and Regicide
Yeah, I’m a maniac
I’m Mikie, the Pseudocidal Maniac

Categories
Mikie Writes Poetry

Outta Control

I’m losing focus.
I’m outta control
Outta control…

Need to keep my head in game
Not lose sight, keep up with my brain
Need to keep order
Avoid the chaos on the border
Gotta find my center
Go back; far as I can ‘member
I punched my wife
I kicked my dog
I slapped my kid
I threw the cat
I keyed the car
I torched the house
Cause I was so afraid of losing them all
I’m losing focus.
I’m outta control
Outta control…
I spayed my best friend
I slayed his girlfriend
I knocked down the neighbors door
Just to mention I heard him snore
I lost my key
But I found the floor
I threw out the manual
And there’s no going back
The wiring is funky
and goddamn it, I’m getting Chunky
I’m losing focus.
I’m outta control
Outta control…
I lied on my application
I cheated on the test
The dog ate my homework
But to be fair, I mixed it with his kibble
I made the trek through the snow
But I did it nice ‘n’ slow
I shot the sheriff, and with him, the deputy
I did all this and more, because of what I love to be
I’m losing focus.
I’m outta control
Outta control…

Categories
Mikie Writes Poetry

No Title….yet

I’ve been fucked
and stuck
I’ve been Poked
and Broke
I’ve been bagged
and tagged
And all I wanna do is Cope,
Hope that this is a lie
That those words you Spoke
Really won’t make me die
I’ve been up
I’ve been down
I’ve done stepped up
I’ve been thrown to the ground
I’ve become irate
Within this fucked up state
Throw me on the slab
And begin to operate
Cause I’m sick in the head
And I need a cure.
I love you like I love stale doritos
Throw cheetos in your face
Like they’re some kinda mace
Maybe some sugar on the top
Easy Mac your cheesy ass
Or some ramen to make it last
I’m sorry I got a little hungry
But between I’scream and gettin creamed
I’m spittin a rhyme that’s just slightly off scheme
Now back to the point
I’ve been hip
I’ve been hot
I’ve been wack
Now I’m back
And my name is Mikie
Don’t mind if I add a little kool
Cause it’s time I took you back to school
So sit back in that bleacher
Here comes your favorite teacher
Here to say
I’ve become irate
Within this fucked up state
Throw me on the slab
And begin to operate
Cause I’m sick in the head
And I need a cure.
I saw you there
In my place
My space My weathered lair
Far, far down, deep in the
tombs of my mind
I witnessed you
You and your atrocities
And what you did to me
or what you were goin to do
I’ve lost feeling
No chance of healing
It’s Apparent
That your inherent
Defeat is appropriate
Within the Opiate
I’ve become irate
Within this fucked up state
Throw me on the slab
And begin to operate
Cause I’m sick in the head
And I need a cure
Cause one things for sure
Without it I’m dead

Categories
Mikie Writes Poetry

introverted

ewww i think i have a huge problem…
I hate having problems….
How to fix this one?
What do I do?
Do I talk about it?
Who would listen?
Who would care?
What about those who I can’t tell?
How will they react?
There aren’t many reasons
Why I can’t talk about something
So put 2 and 2 together
And one would assume
They’re the basis of assumption
So I can’t talk to them
At least not now.
What’s this that I feel?
Never been there before….
Tried to ignore
No real reason to feel it
Couldn’t be real
No, I shouldn’t be scared.
It’s intangible
So why?
Why does it bother me?
Because I’m just not sure
Not Sure
Not Sure
Not sure what I’m feeling.