Zack Is A Poser

We all knew Zack was one bad punk
His mohawk was the flyest
His jacket bore the latest bands
His spikes stood up the highest

But one day we were hanging out
And vibin’ on Joe Strummer
He said he loved The Clash but man
He couldn’t name the drummer

It took some years to live it down
Punk friends left Zack rejected
So Zack soon took a different form
He came back resurrected

His mohawk he would grow out long
His plaid pants for spandex
Cause it was heavy metal for
Which Zack was now obsessed

But soon the whispers came about
In those small vicious circles
Zack didn’t know the seventh guy
Who sang lead in Deep Purple

Then indie, Zack in hipster phase
With beard found things ironic
Next goth then grunge then new wave and
Just briefly electronic

But each time someone sniffed him out
Twas something not quite kosher
For Zack was neither metal, punk
But simply just a poser

Zack still knows naught bout music but
I guess it’s no big diff
Since now he listen to Ms. Spears
Bieber and Taylor Swift

And wears a 3 piece suit to work
Like some hot shot breadwinner
But really does the 9-5
Employed as a sign spinner.

Inspired by a blogversation I had with Joanne and My Life Lived Full.

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You Think You Want To Be A Witch

I see the disappointed faces
As they stare at me
And hear insulting comments from
The mean panel of three

Sharon Osbourne, Madonna and
On the right Taylor Swift
The judging panel of You Think
You Want to Be A Witch?

So I stand there with Stevie Nicks
Our diaphanous host
Sharon starts with comments that
For sure hurt me the most

“I thought your brew was rather thin
It lacked the bitter roots
And I think that you forgot
To add in eye of newt

It made your victim’s skin scaly but
That is all that you managed
And your broom flying is at best
Directionally challenged

You spent your time watching You tube
In your crystal ball
I’m afraid this witch crafting
Just isn’t you at all.”

Stevie reminds my fans to vote
If they find that untrue
And then turns to Madonna and
Says, “Madge let’s hear from you.”

“At first glance I thought you were
Some great enchanted mystic
But now I think it’s just cause you
Were wearing that black lipstick

My mind is changed I think you prob’ly
Should just stick to pink
And your dance of conjuring
Is really out of sync

I sure don’t think your cackling
Did even cause a scare
I’m afraid that as a witch
You haven’t, like, a prayer.”

And so with that said, things are turned
Back to our rockin’ host
Who reminds the viewers just
How much I need their votes

Which somehow fails to make my spirits
Even start to lift
As Stevie says “Now it’s your turn
What do you think Ms. Swift?”

But Taylor looks up with smile
Plastered on her face
Her eyes somehow expressionless
She says “I think it’s great!”

So Stevie says “Marissa it’s sure
Looking pretty bleak
What do you have to say to this?
It’s your turn now to speak.”

I say “Thanks for your criticisms
Plainly I can see
That perhaps the witchy life
Just isn’t quite for me

My potions didn’t do the trick
My broom and hat askew
But despite my deficiencies
There’s one thing I can do.”

And then a lightening burst came through
And then the clearing fog
Where once the panel of three sat
Now there were just three frogs.

With endless thanks to Annabelle Troy at Jane Eyre Gets Real for the inspiration.

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Elvis Has Left The Building

The makeup, bras, the lingerie
The Vegas golden age
I wait amongst the wreckage as
I hear them up on stage

Ned did Elvis pretty good
Gyrated every beat
But now I hear he gives out fliers
Down on Freemont St.

First Elvis thin then the Elvis fat
Then Elvis past his prime
Then Ned would leave the building for
What would be the last time

John does a mean Gaga and
He rocks on the piano
If he can hide that manly chin
And his five o clock shadow

Maria’s worried her Britney
Will soon fade from demand
As the pop star grows older
And with her so her fans

She contemplates a nip right there
A tuck here and a lift
To last her through the next five years
She’ll go as Taylor Swift

And Armand blows his afro out
Discreetly snorts a line
It gets harder to party like
It’s 1999

But is it love or money or
The warmth of the stage lights
That keeps the fire burning brightly
Each and every night

Or is it once the clothing’s hung
And wigs back on the shelves
We have to face another day
Of just being ourselves.

This post was inspired by my impending trip to Las Vegas. I won’t be posting for the next week and will do my best to stop in on your blogs while I’m gone.

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Revelations

Of Facebook friends I don’t have many,
Sometimes surprised that I have any,
Should I somehow feel put off,
When communication stops?

Their absence of likes makes me wonder,
If somehow I made a blunder,
Or maybe worse yet if,
I could be compared to Taylor Swift.

When revelation lifts me from the fog,
I fear they must have read my blog.

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The Kids Will All Write Submission 2

Well I guess anyone who has not heard about my The Kids Will All Write Challenge by now must be living under a rock. But for you subterranean dwellers, it’s all about encouraging our children’s creativity by publishing their writing, artwork, and even music videos! (which I will then republish)

Blogger Phil Taylor and I have a lot in common. We’re both originally from New York, we’re both unbelievably hilarious, and we both have sons who play music. Here is an awesome mash up by Phil’s son’s band Nothing Personal. Please enjoy!

For more info on Nothing Personal check out Phil’s blog at http://thephilfactor.com/2014/05/25/the-kids-will-all-write-challenge-my-son-is-living-like-a-rock-star/

P.S. This weekend I posted two reblogs, both of which received a tepid response. This leads me to one of two conclusions:
1. No one reads reblogs
2. No one reads my reblogs
Because of this, all The Kids Will All Write Submissions will be published in their own posts and, I will probably never reblog again.