Subliminal White Trash

Welcome. This site contains a cross section of my writing including stories, comedy skits, dialogues and observational humour with a satirical edge. Feedback is much appreciated. Coming through people! Clear a path! My e-mail is kevincpearce@yahoo.com

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Location: Burlington, Ontario, Canada

After graduating high school in 1995 with a significant amount of embarrassingly cliched emotional baggage, Kevin "Subliminal White Trash" Pearce made his way to Toronto in a perfectly understandable attempt to outrun his past. After encountering many similarly desperate and stubbornly eccentric people, Kevin found his way into the acting and spoken word scenes. With an amazing and almost inhuman effort, Kevin somehow negotiated through his self destructive tendencies on his way to finding some kind of second rate enlightenment in his strange little world of reckless, impulsive creativity. After spending three years in Toronto, Kevin decided to return to the suburbs in order to preserve his diminishing supply of mental health. Sometimes he even thinks it was the right decision.

Thursday, October 10, 2013

In my Dreams

THIS IS AN ONGOING POST...It is currently July 14th and I'm still adding to it.

A little background.  I haven't written much poetry in awhile but recently I have been inspired to do so. However, it is the easiest art form in which to be completely terrible.  So don't judge me too harshly on this.  Also, despite the negative tone to this poem my dreams aren't always this dark and dysfunctional although there are some reoccurring themes here.  I have plenty of happy dreams.  They just aren't that interesting.  Hope you enjoy.

In my dreams
the car never has brakes
the gun is always loaded
animals are ready to attack

People get hurt

In my dreams
childhood memories are no longer sacred
understanding comes with a price
the pillars of sanity are on fire

People get hurt

In my dreams
my heroes betray me
love fights its weary battle with apathy
uncertainty rules the night

People get hurt

In my dreams
desire is just out of reach
temptation leads to regret
guilt and shame are the biggest show in town

People get hurt

In my dreams
Crushed by the weight of abstract symbolism
Starving for air
I disappear into the crowd
and pretend that nobody got hurt


I write pick-up lines to amuse myself and others....here's a few.  More coming soon.

"I'm kind of a big deal here.  I know the dishwasher."
"You look like you're pretty high maintenance.  Fair assessment?"
"I saw you on the dance floor.  You looked like a retarded goat having a seizure."
"Your friend is hot.  Is she single?"
"I never flaunt my money.  It wouldn't be fair to the other guys in the bar."
"Didn't I see you on that porn website?  You're good.  You're really good."

short poems...not funny...to be continued

my old roommate once said
"Why are you trying to poison me?"
his mental illness shone bright that day

senior citizens moving slow
staring at the ground with nowhere to go
soon they will join their friends down below
and on their graves flowers will grow

never prank call 911
the operators don't like humour
they have a job to do
and their ears are
overwhelmed with death

An old lady in my apartment building died yesterday
The Salvation Army truck was out front
Her worldly possessions stacked high
Strangers will soon find them a new home
as the cycle of life and death perpetuates
and mutates together as one

the night after Halloween

walking home from a lifeless downtown
I see a poorly made skeleton
hung by a noose
blowing in the wind
tied to a tree branch
older than I am
as leaves dance around my feet
until I kick them away
and silently wonder
"How often do people lie to themselves
to move ahead with their lives?"
There are no more hills to climb
No more childhood mountains
to conquer

untitled

I'm through with contemplation
I want to be your good piece of heaven
I need something from your heart in return
Sometimes I may need you to be strong for me
Your eyes against me make me wonder
Has anyone told you different?
Tell them to get out of my way


Do not fear the grave
It just might be an eternity of silence
You won't feel a thing

delete

It is a death
in and of itself
giving death
no meaning
just part of the
inexorable routine
while the words
eat themselves


I'm not interested in
the universe
the galaxy
the solar system
I want what's inside
your heart and
your head
and I'll fight for it
until I am dead

I've taken a bunch of acting classes in my Toronto days but I still don't know how to act normal.
Rob Ford blah blah blah.   Can't we all just smoke vitamins?
I once witnessed a girl reduced to a sobbing wreck when she couldn't score weed before school.  Pathetic.  Yawn.
I'm watching CNN and they're interviewing a retired ATF agent and he has a black eye and a bandage on his forehead.  The guy's retired and he still can't catch a break.
Today I walked with purpose but not urgency.  Such a fine line.
I eat too much yogurt.  Seriously.  I think I have a problem.  Also, eating too much peanut butter gives you a headache.
Which word do you prefer.....PUKE or BARF?  I think barf implies more of a projectile thing....you can puke in your mouth a bit but BARF sounds like you're emptying your stomach across the goddamn ROOM.  Also, let's not forget about VOMIT.  It carries a certain authority.
You heard it here folks.  I pick my bacon right from the TREE. No, wait.  That was a dream.  A TASTY dream.
To all you phone addicts.  I have something called a 'landline'.  I can also see dinosaurs out my window.
I'm concerned about my concerns.  It's very concerning.
I actually took the time to read the latest bit of spam on my e-mail account.  The usual bullshit but it ended with a gem:  "The problem with adult sex cams is that they are often full of lies."  Hilarious! 
I asked an 'associate' what his novel in progress is about.  "Life."  He said.  Wow.  That narrows it down.  Yawn.
There's a new reality show on TLC called "Best Funeral Ever."  I don't know about you but when I find out I'm going to a funeral the first thing I think is 'Will this be the one?  The funeral I've been dreaming about all these years?  Funeral perfection?  Will the sandwiches really be THAT GOOD?'
I'm not paranoid.  You're just uninformed.
I was watching a show about the destructive powers of weather and then I stepped outside and the sun felt like an orgasm.
I've seen a band I like four million times.  Divided by a million.
Dear ______________.  Get off the tit and put your big boy pants on.
Don't get too close to me.  My bullshit filter is strong.
Being a writer means keeping your friends on a long leash.
In the future, everyone will pretend to like Andy Warhol for fifteen minutes.
The previous confusion was incorrect.  However, the apology will be even more confusing.
Say something interesting enough that I will remember it tomorrow and I will forgive you for yesterday.
If I ever need an organ donor I really hope they don't die screaming.
Your bacon etiquette is surprising yet effective.
A friend on Facebook wrote "I'm so grateful for all the supportive people in my life." so I replied "I'm so supportive of all the grateful people in my life."
When people write 'LMAO' are they temporarily removed from their buttocks due to the intensity of the laughter?  In a metaphysical way?  Or something?
A friend of mine told her grandma "Stop going to the casino and spending my inheritance."
Breaking up a fight at a holiday party:  "GET OFF OF HIM GODDAMNIT.  I CAN'T DEAL WITH THIS.  IT'S THE HOLIDAYS.  SHARE THE LOVE GODDAMNIT.  You stand HERE and you stand THERE.  ARE WE DONE WITH THIS BULLSHIT?  Next time you open your mouth drink some GODDAMN EGGNOG."
A friend of mine told me that she doesn't care if she ever has sex again.  She can have an orgasm taking a dump or crossing her legs a certain way.  Must be nice.
I find it funny when people stumble over the word 'articulate'.  The irony!
Some lighters have a kill switch which is why the Zippo is the preferred lighter by junkies and arsonists alike.
We've all been there.  Where memory lane intersects with regret avenue.
Never underestimate the power of wearing comfortable socks.
I was watching a spider on my balcony, dead center in the middle of his perfect web and for a second everything made sense.  The next day the web and the spider were gone.
Live every day like it's your last?  Sounds like a lot of crying and good-byes.  Try doing that every day and watch your family and friends disappear from your life in a hurry.

another poem based on a dream

vast jungles of flesh
giants of monotony
these intellect crushing beasts
disguised gardens of deceit
from a petri dish poisoned by mutant chemicals
what's left of the beauty transforms to become wings
sometimes I wonder if I should speak of these things
who could be listening in?
breathing the thick air of lost opportunities
crying heavy tears of expired love
witnessing a higher form of intelligence
undeserving of humanity
and my frail sanity
who could be listening in?
time to destroy the evidence and move on







6 Comments:

Anonymous Justin Zaza said...

Nice!

9:16 PM  
Anonymous sickboy_xl said...

Before he even gets to the poem, you get the best statement of the whole script. "I rarely write poetry. It is the easiest art form to be terrible at." Ain't that the fuckin' truth!

Next best line..."Tempation leads to regret". Kevin (aka. P) you are "THE" poet. I pretend no one gets hurt everday. The rest of the time, I want them all to eat it.
Keep writing my friend.

2:39 AM  
Anonymous sickboy_xl said...

"Temptation leads to regret" is the proper spelling. Not "Tempation".
Good quote P. They are scribbled on cigarette packs throughout the universe.

2:42 AM  
Blogger Stan Burfield said...

Hey Kevin, This is great stuff for an open mic, especially with your acting background. Either a slam or a regular one like mine. I'm impressed

8:15 PM  
Blogger Stan Burfield said...

Hey Kevin, This is great stuff for an open mic, especially with your acting background. Either a slam or a regular one like mine. I'm impressed

8:15 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Slovenly!

3:48 PM  

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