Slam Poetry Popcorn - You Suck at Cooking (episode 55)

If Eminem had a good childhood

Bad tutorial my popcorn turned into a motivational video. Help

Was I the only one who actually thought this poem was good

The autumn I told you that popcorn was magic.
Reached into a pocket and pulled out a handful.
Stuffed it in my face with full eye contact.
You never called me back.
Corn, kernel, a kernel of knowledge.
On the counter, encountering kernels, overcoming hurdles.
On top of the onion we heat up a pan.
Some coconut oil from a far away land. The molecules we heat start to expand. With the shake of a hand. Friction. Chicken. A kernel, like an egg the size of a drop underneath an inferno that's getting real hot, once that spark is ignited you know it can't stop.
Unless you turn it off.
It's been 20 seconds since you filled it up. You might feel the urge to just stop and give up. You lazy f**k. Pressure. I'm 4 feet from my dresser. 4 minutes away from textured mouth pleasure. That oil sizzles hot and it stings like a bitch like a pin in your finger instead of a stitch.
One of your best friends in bed with the one that you're with.
Or a very small rock in your shoe at the tip.
With miles to go and nowhere to sit.
If I only I had Velcro I'd give it a zip.
Holster with nothing to shoot from the hip. When the bottles lands sideways while trying to flip. An entire dry breadstick with nothing to dip. A cramp in your knee when you're trying to skip.
Pain. Hurts.
Lid. A glass ceiling.
A container of motion. Held stiff with my fist can't stop this commotion we're not making popcorn we are making a potion to heal the world.
Or for snacking purposes.
Exploding. Like an idea. Also, like popcorn because it actually is that.
What started as kernels expanded so full. We put that expansion inside of a bowl. An above ground hole.
Salt from the sea, smoked paprika, then wangjangle.
Then grab it by the fistful,
transport it to your face hole.
Fill it like you're shoving love inside the gap inside your soul.
Soon you'll be full with your head full of clouds.
Delicious small crispiness cracking out loud.
Uncle Mark looking down.
I need to wash my ceiling. Not exactly proud.
Two cars with only a one door garage.
Is this popcorn real or just a mirage?
Reality. Beneath that hard shell of armor that makes us so tough, there's light fluffy softness of unspoken thoughts.
Unless you're a bit of a blatherer. You might have said everything already. Props TMI.
Because sometimes life is so tough, you're past the point of having had enough. The tears start to fall like you're leaking your soul or your chest starts to swell in your guts there's a hole. Brace for the shock and let it roll through you.
Then reach for the popcorn. Open up. Let it soothe you. But as you get to the bottom of that bowl, take those unpopped kernels and lift with a feather. Then keep them in a special place. Forever..
Because popcorn will always have your back.
Popcorn will never give you flak.
Popcorn will never borrow 5 dollars and not pay it back.
Popcorn will never borrow your car, get in to a fender bender, then say it was already like that when it brings it back.
So never be afraid to pop corn.
Also, we need to save the ocean.

I'm just gonna memorize this real quick so I can have it forever...

I... I think i have my will to live back

"an above ground hole" was a stroke of genius that flung me into an existential crisis

Honestly that was really deep
Like the ocean we need to save

Dude this is actually good

this guy is really ver talented with words and humour totally original

I'm not even kidding I'm crying

Lyrics:
The autumn I told you that popcorn was magic,
reached into my pocket and pulled out a handful,
stuffed it in my face with full eye contact;
He never called me back.
Corn, kernel;
A kernel of knowledge.
On the counter encountering kernels,
overcoming hurdles.
On top of the onion we heat up a pan,
some coconut oil from faraway lands,
as the molecules move they start to expand,
with a shake of a hand, friction, chicken.
A kernel like an egg a size of a drop,
underneath it an inferno that's getting real hot,
once that spark is ignited you know it can't stop - unless you turn it off.
It's been 20 seconds since you filled it up, you might feel the urge to just stop and give up - you lazy f**k.
Pressure, I'm four feet from my dresser,
four minutes away from texture mouth pleasure.
That oil sizzles hot and it stings like a bit*h,
Pin in your finger instead of the stitch;
One of your best friends in bed with the one you were with,
Or a very small rock in your shoe at the tip,
With miles to go and nowhere to sit,
If I only had velcro, I’d give it a zip.
A holster with nothing to shoot from the hip,
When the bottle land sideways while trying to flip,
An entire dried breadstick with nothing to dip,
A kink in your knee when you’re trying to skip.
Pain, hurts.
Lid: a glass ceiling; a container of motion,
Held stiff with my fist, can’t stop this commotion.
We’re not making popcorn, we’re making a potion to heal the world.
Or for snacking purposes.
Exploding - like an idea - also like popcorn because it actually is that.
What started as kernels expanding so full, we put that expansion inside of a bowl,
An above ground hole.
Salt from the sea, smoked paprika, then wangjangle.
Then grab it by the fistful, transport it to your facehole,
Fill it like you’re shoving love inside the gap inside your soul.
Soon you’ll be full with your head full of clouds, delicious small crispiness cracking out loud - uncle mark looking down.
I need to wash my ceiling.
Not exactly proud.
Two cars with only a one door garage,
Is popcorn real or just a mirage?
Reality.
Beneath that hard shell an armor that makes us tough there’s light fluffy softness of unspoken thoughts - unless you’re a bit of a blatherer. You might have said everything already, probs tmi.
Because sometimes life is tough.
You’re past the point of having had enough.
The tears start to fall like you’re leaking your soul, your chest starts to swell, in your guts there’s a hole.
Brace for the shock and let it roll through you,
Then reach for the popcorn, open up, let it soothe you.
crunch crunch crackle crinckle popcorn sounds
But as you get to the bottom of that bowl, takes those unpopped kernels, and lift with a feather
Then keep them in a special place. Forever.
Because popcorn will always have your back.
Popcorn will never give you flack.
Popcorn will never borrow five dollars and not pay it back.
Popcorn will never borrow your car, get into a fender bender, and say it was already like that when it brings it back.
So never, be afraid to pop, cornnn - also we need to save the ocean.

If a guy memorised this then slammed it to me I would love them forever

But how do you make the salt stick to the popcorn

the "special place" bowl is my favorite recurring part of YSAC it just pops up wherever

4 feet from my dresser... I'll remember that rule! :))

I almost want to use this as a monologue for an audition

Is it weird that this is the most inspiring thing I have heard all year?

Are....are those the Apple stems from the candy apples?

I had to wipe the tearsdrops from my eyeholes at the end.