long, long, long poem (well it's more like a story with PJ song titles in it)

bigbadbillbigbadbill Posts: 1,758
edited September 2003 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
My Vacation In Hell While Listening To Pearl Jam
In My Walkman

By bigbadbill

One day, I walked down the Long Road into Hell. To avoid total boredom, I brought along my Sony Walkman and listened to a couple of songs from my favorite band, Pearl Jam (who happens to be signed by the Epic label, which is owned by Sony). Anyway, I had committed way too many sins during my temporary stay on Earth. Now I’m faced with a Mystery that is impossible to solve.
There’s No Way I’ll ever Get Right out of here, for there’s No escape. I never thought I’d end up in Hell. This place is Nothing As It Seems from what I imagined it would be like. All of Mankind is doomed; destined for this place, which is probably located Deep within the Earth’s core. I feel like a Nothingman in this place while tiny Bugs fly up in my face. And while there’s a Smile on the mean Devil’s face, he gives me a Stupid Mop to clean up this place. He snarled at me and said in a very scary voice, "Ha ha ha ha ! Nothing will Save You now, motherfucker!" He paused for a moment…"Clean up my house, Bitch!" It's getting hot in herrre!!!
I found it very hard to make Ol’ Satan’s Bed because there were big puddles of Blood everywhere on the sheets and pillowcases. I can’t even Wash them because there is no water Down here at all. I feel so Alone down here, even though I can hear the sound of tiny Footsteps from evil Rats roaming around in the middle of Lucifer’s Garden. This will cause me to remain In Hiding for the rest of eternity. When I was still Alive I took my final Breath, and now that I’m a Dead Man, I remain in the Present Tense. I threw down all of the Gods' Dice and lost big time. And this time I knew I hadn't a Ghost of a chance of ever getting back home. I wish that I was Leaving Here, but in reality I’m not. And like a little, scared (or rather, scurd) mouse, I squeaked out, "helphelp!!"
…Wait a second, I can hear the Devil singing one of Pearl Jam’s tunes, The Whale Song, off in the distance. I didn’t know he has the same taste in music like I do. It doesn’t matter, he’s still a fucking asshole for all I care. But like I was saying, this hole in the ground is driving me Out Of My Mind. I’m like an Animal who’s receiving his daily Whipping. And instead of being in a State Of Love And Trust, all I feel is hatred and disgust. It’s Hard To Imagine the day when I’ll become a Better Man. And when I do, I will become one with the Earth. I have no possessions to speak of anymore. The only thing I have now is myself; I Am Mine and the world is mine.
The Devil can Push Me, Pull Me, or even tear me in half, but my Immortality will prove him wrong. I’m no longer living, but still I don’t feel dead…I’m somewhere in between. Satan’s Leash on me gets tighter and tighter by the second, but Sometimes I am immune, and at other times I am a Dissident to his cruel torture. I am now the Devil’s Red Mosquito – his own personal pet that was Given To Fly down here. I fly fast, bouncing off walls like a Gremmie Out Of Control. And now I can see the reflection of a Low Light coming from Around The Bend. It kind of brings back memories of All Those Yesterdays up on Earth when I had this weird Habit of climbing up In My Tree while wearing my old torn up Corduroy pants.
During my life up on Earth, I left a Wishlist by the fireplace every Christmas Eve. On this list I asked for a Black Camaro, with the full moon reflecting off its hood, with a license plate that read: MFC – Motherfucking Cool! And since I Got Id last year, this year I wanted the opportunity to Do The Evolution again with my neighbor’s sexy Daughter. I even remember the Last Kiss I shared Of The Girl I loved so much before I came here. To get in good with her dad, I bought him a Cropduster for Christmas. Also, I wanted the chance to swim in all of Earth’s seven Oceans, but I’m Light Years away from doing that now, aren’t I!?!
On the night before Christmas, I hid behind the couch and when Santa Claus came down the chimney, I jumped out from behind and scared him half to death. He shouted “Aye Davanita!” I asked him, “Why Go down the chimney when you can simply Go through the front door, located at the end of the front Porch?” He then replied, “Kid, this job is Not For You at all.” He then got an attitude with me and said, “I am who I am, but Who You Are and what You Are ain’t shit.” He got into his sleigh pulled by Rudolph and Friends, and Off He Goes, excuse me, off he went to fuck with the minds of other children in the neighborhood. It’s funny how I can Soon Forget about these trivial events that took place during my life.
Once upon a time, I went cruising on the 210 freeway with a 1/2 Full tank of gas and my friend, Jeremy. He spoke in class last week, this week, yesterday, and he even spoke in class today. He just won’t shut the fuck up. So who knows what goes on in the Brain Of J. Although we’re good friends, we have this everlasting sense of competition between us. It seems as if he’s my Rival at every sport we play, along with everything else we do. We even fought over the same Girl in our English class back in high school. The whole thing was stupid all together. He was jealous of me because I was Mr. Love Boat Captain around her. I was nicknamed the Bush Leaguer around campus because I even got the pussy every night. I always used protection because I didn't know who she was with, and I can't go out like a sucker by contracting any STD's or any other Green Disease. Later on, we both came to the conclusion that we Can't Keep fighting over girls, and that no female will ever come between us. We’ve been friends way too long.
We didn't know where we were going to that day. We could of driven to the Golden Gate Bridge up in San Francisco, or across the country to rap with Nelly at the Arc in St. Louis, or just drive all the way to the Statue of Liberty in New York City. We got off the freeway by using the Last Exit possible. There’s no other off-ramp for twenty miles. I glanced in the Rearviewmirror and sure enough I saw a police car shining its bright blues and red lights at us. So, like good, law abiding citizens, we pulled over. This particular officer had dust all over his uniform. (He kind of reminded me of the T-1000 in ”Terminator 2”). My friend asked Dirty Frank what the problem was. He said, in a low voice, “You were going 95 in a 65 zone. I’m surprised you jerk-off’s didn’t make a fuckin’ U-turn on the fuckin’ freeway.” “I’m also gonna cite you bastards for having expired tags.”
We both flicked him off and drove off in a blaze of glory. He grabbed his Glorified G, a colt .45, from his holster, and with such keen Sleight Of Hand, he started to Release an Even Flow of bullets at us, but we weren’t to be stopped. It was time for us to be Parting Ways with this fucking pig. That stupid WMA (White Male American, duh!) felt like Pontious Pilate. He took his hat off and there was a big red circle – a big * on his bald head. I think the Devil put it there, himself. It was so funny, Matt Lukin, the bass guitarist for the Seattle rock band Mudhoney would of laughed his head off.
Later on, we stopped at a local coffee shop and the sign on the front door read: “I’m Open.” We walked inside and saw an Elderly Woman Behind The Counter In A Small Town. She was very nice to us. As she was walking over to serve us some coffee like as if her name was Alice, she began to trip over her shoe laces. I then slid a wooden chair over in her direction, hoping it would Breakerfall. Unfortunately, it didn’t work. She ended up falling on her fat ass. Where’s Flo when you need some real service?
The walls inside the shop were painted Yellow Ledbetter, a type of led-free yellow paint. Outside of the store was a painting of a cat. The colors Black, Red, Yellow, and green were used for such a masterpiece. We took off for the road. I knew at that moment that if my car broke down in the middle of nowhere, I would find myself walking down the road, Thumbing My Way for a ride.
That night, we went to pick up chicks at this weird club outside of town called Sonic Reducer, hmmm…that’s another Pearl Jam song. Well, technically speaking, it was really a cover of some other band’s song. Anyway, the place was very loud inside. That’s kind of ironic because the name of the club implies that the sound be turned down…there I go again. The DJ, whose nickname was Leatherman, since that’s all he wore, was supposed to Spin The Black Circle, or play records all night long.
As for us, we couldn’t dance for shit, which in turn meant that the ladies were not looking in our direction at all. In fact, it was so bad that I could of sworn I saw a pattern of an Evacuation of every female in the room. We looked like the two idiots from the movie “Dumb And Dumber,” trying to bust a move. We both looked like MC Hammer on crack. I don’t even know why I was there in the first place. I feel a great Indifference for these places of such Insignificance during my life.
Then all of a sudden, I felt stuck for some odd reason. I literally could not move my feet. A ten-foot spatula would Pry, to get me off my feet. Then all of a sudden, rain and Hail, Hail I say started pouring inside, all over dance floor. Not to sound sacreligious, but the evil twin brother of Jesus, Tremor Christ, Appeared out of nowhere and he struck me down into Thin Air with a bolt of lightning, sending me down here. I guess I’m paying for all the sins I committed during my brief stay up on Earth. I’m overwhelmed by this gigantic sense of Grievance of knowing I can never come back home. To this very day, I am still Faithfull that God will send his angels for me, and bring me Home. And as soon as you know it, I’ll be Rocking In The Free World again. I'll be All or None, who knows!!
11/6/95, 11/18/97, 7/13/98, 7/14/98, 10/24/00, 10/25/00, 10/28/00, 6/2/03, 6/3/03, 6/5/03, 7/6/06, 7/7/06, 7/9/06, 7/10/06, 7/13/06, 7/15/06, 7/16/06, 7/18/06, 10/21/06, 4/10/08, 4/13/08, 9/30/09, 10/1/09, 10/6/09, 10/7/09, 10/9/09
Post edited by Unknown User on


  • Im sure its very good and if i wasn't so tired i would possibly read it. You need to catch me on a good day.
    'Fox hunting is barbaric, the people who do it are a bunch of snobby tories with stupid posh accents. Oh damn, i didn't say that - damn, what a giveaway...'
  • dang thats one long piece of writing! from what i read, it was interesting and clever how you got the titles in there.. i dont think mine would make as much sense if i was to do it haha cool, thanks for sharing
    professional jammer since 1992
    Proud owner of a cat named Mookie.

    viva la Yield Night 12-7-03
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