Juiced Poem by Eddie Henderson

Juiced



Dedicated to all the steroid talk in sports...

Ladies and Gentlemen, before we begin this press conference,
I'd like to get a few things off of my conscience.
Please understand this is a hard time for me and my family.
Respect our privacy
This is in no way easy for me…

Im here today to set the record straight
Recently my exemplary performance on the poetry stage has stirred up quite the debate

Questions like:
1) How did he get so good so fast?
2) Did he do that same poem week before last?
3) Has his head gotten better since he started all of this?
To answer all of these questions: yes…yes…and yes

Two years ago I began experimenting with P.E.D’s.
Better known as poetry enhancing drugs.
This explains my recent increase in vocabulary and articulation
Other aspects of my delivery were enhanced which I will get into with your permission

I first herd bout the drug from my cousin and dem…(coughing)
Excuse my speech, since I’ve been of the drug my vernacular has been in atrophy
So what had happened was Pookie and Ray Ray told me about dis new P.E.D hitin’ the streets called “Swagger” otherwise known as “Swag”

They would inject the swag in my rear end
Sometimes in my neck for a quicker effect on my delivery
I saw the results and advantages immediately
My words were like nuclear weapons

I obliterated the competition with my similes and metaphors
My oxymoron’s actually made you look like a moron
I was the Pootie Tang of Poetry. “Sadatay on the Tippy Tie”
At the height of my cycle of drugs I could literally spit a hl through a concrete wall.

That’s when it all went wrong
There were a laundry list of side effects from using P.E.D’s
During random stretches of speech, I can’t stop rhyming
No matter the timing
I feel like dying
It happens when I’m not even trying
Like…cow-ing… It’s happening right now
I don’t know how
Stop it (smacks cheek) ow!

I can’t even write love poems anymore
Now all I write are hate poems
I pulled that rose out of the concrete and stomped it!
And yes PED’s do affect that certain part of the male anatomy.
What good is a poet to a woman if his pen hand is flaccid?
Why did I do it?

I wanted to be the best by any means
I thought it would give me the edge I needed
I got caught because the real poets noticed I was numb. I wasn’t feeling what I was spitting
Thankfully God believes in second chances

PoetryHunter.com and I are partnering up to stop the use of poetry enhancing drugs
Poets, use me as an example
Don’t crack under the pressure

Don’t write what you think we want to hear
Write what gives you joy
There is no such thing as wack poetry
But when your poems are juiced people notice
Stay pure stay beautiful and stay richous
Any questions?

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Eddie Henderson

Eddie Henderson

Fayetteville, North Carolina
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