Author Archives: Scottt
This week metaphor-CAST has it’s advantages, but left me in bandages.
Let me know if you think of a better way to heal faster,
cuz van dammage control has me wrapping for real…in plaster.
So as I try and move forth from a pseudo divorce,
I’ll be kickboxing bad habits with judo force.
And I’m not here to out anyone,
especially me being a feminist who deeply respects them,
it’s just that I had no choice but to join
Now, I’m not here to beef or milk this with a speedy apology
Even though I’m an oxymoronic vegan into meatier-ology.
I’ve Halle Berry-ied the hatchet, the storm has passed,
and there’s a cold out there, but I’m trying not to catch it.
I guess I need to wake up and smell the gluten free flour.
Hey, I’m clean and my hyJean’s not so grey I’m refuting showers,
I just think its time I get back in touch with my mutant powers.
The professor marked the Scottt and even missing jewels,
there’s still treasure of mind to mine.
To put the pedal to the metal, to magnetize and shine.
But when an apocalypse scares, how does a wolverine repair?
The hermit hides, the beast fights, the cyclops stares
and the spoke and word artist resigns to his bike.
Look, I’m fine as long as I can travel and make things,
Write. Write, write, write, write, write.
And even if I miss a bath or two,
my number hasn’t come up yet,
so next time
I’m dropping math on you.
This is Scotty T Storm with this week’s metaphor-Cast.
for PRINCE; forever under the weather.
From me to you this is Scotty T Storm with a Royally blue…Metaphorcast.
Good music is a drowning gymnast as the final color in the rainBowie
has flipped upside down to frowning Grimace.
But the sky’s the limit, and with the aid of a pilot I’m a drop grape juice
so it may precipitate shades of violet.
Which is why instead of drifting off course
I’ve taken to an airplane as a means of air lifting closer to the source.
If you’re looking for clear skies you’re gonna have to plug into your third iTunes – somewhere between heaven, hell and some unheard of moons.
I’m trying to go through Pandora’s BLACK box.
Wondering who really appropriated hip-hop and JACKED rock.
Down there all you can hear is the distant melody of Mother Earth’s cold castle,
an echo’s JESTER.
Ever since the KING of Pop and now PRINCE left her,
who’s left holding the scepter?
Which QUEEN’ll rain supreme to take the throne into the great beyond…
Say, who refuses to stay in the shade when it deluges lemonade?
As she crashes through that ceiling, like Bullock coming in for a landing, fast.
Gotta ask, women of the world, who wants a glass?
This is Scotty T Storm with this week’s Metaphorcast!
After many years of doing background work in between poetry tours I am happy to report, I have earned my SAG card. I am extremely grateful I was able to make a living (primarily) as a poet performing in colleges and theaters these past 10 years with MayhemPoets keeping me grounded, humble and whole and thankful for the generosity afforded to me both on the road and while on sets.
I’ve had some memorable experiences and some easily forgettable ones, where I was simply fed (and paid) to listen to podcasts, write sonnets and read obscure non-fiction I didn’t quite understand.*
We are all aware of the elitism that often comes from SAG toward Non-Union and the frustrations of 10 sometimes 12 or more hour days spent swimming inside a segregated pool of the waived and unwaived. Sometimes catching one on the right day is a stroke of luck and sometimes a stroke of genius. Just know Union or Non, many of you are ridiculously talented. Don’t you forget it, your butterfly will reach the sky!
Others, who may be crawling along at various points in any of the above lanes, learn how to stay in the pool and stay afloat, hopefully engaged in some other semi-related aquatic sport (especially when tides are low).
If you choose to leave the water, let’s say move to a land-locked country cabin with the love of your life, shoot to be each other’s star and capture the most picaresque moments for yourselves. And if you still feel the need to soak yourself in stardust, there’s always the community pool.
Perhaps as time passes you find yourself hovering round the kiddie pool, cheering on your Lil Louganis before he or she reaches a new Age of Aquarius. Be supportive, but let your budding Summer Sanders find her own lane, build her own castles. It’s okay to keep your feet wet, but try and keep your Hair out the water while your son or daughter catches breaks.
And to those goggley-eyed, chlorinated clueless newbies, some fortunate enough to ride the big kahuna to the starry shores, you may have somethings to teach, but you still have lots to learn. There may be no lifeguard in live theater, but double take your time if you have to, remember to breathe, then dive in when you are ready from head to toe.
Back on land if you have 12 hours to spend with strangers, sure, make friends but also work. If they don’t want to or have yet to use you, use your time to finish that web-series, polish that screenplay, rehearse that monologue. Take hold of holding and fill in the gaps with beautiful creations all your own.
*Read about some of my on-set experiences in my new collection of stories and poems, “6 Piece-Chicken,” coming in April. (This is a first draft of a longer post)
The End of The…
Heigh ho silver linings bipolar steed.
On a miserable-go-round you might need
Ritalin and speed to reverse the weed
Should you put cart before white roan can lead.
In lieu of whinnying go breathe and ‘yay’!
Needleless to say can’t find a haystack
Giddying down, so saddle up this way
And don’t play horseshoes with crabs who pray that
Stirrups break feet of all who meet their Reeves.
Quit it’s a bird complaining, start suping
Up no matter what the next X-ray sees
And improve the mood before Lex losing.
Ride off into the sunrise, see the light
Energize your mind, blind the Antichrist.