Monthly Archives: December 2018

Storytelling Is Not Dead: The Poem That Started It All

Please check out my previous Storytelling posts here.  And my 365 Reviews here.

Hey, everyone!  When I started this storytelling journey, I mentioned that the idea was spawned from a poem that I wrote entitled “Storytelling is not dead.”  I thought I lost the poem…BUT I just found it, and I’d like to share it with you.


Storytelling is not dead (we’ve just become lazy)

It’s on the floorboards of cars.

It’s on the broken conveyer belts of thrift stores.  Abandoned paintings and family reunion t-shirts.

Finger prints on bed posts.

Third downs.

The battle plan to continue, doing anything.

It’s the forgotten lines of scripts both literal and figurative that cause frustration, tension, suspension, and doubt.

It’s blown speakers…

It’s speakers blown…

Misconstructed vocabulary by ears too paranoid to pay attention.

It’s the blues.

The unfinished…poem, deck, essay, one night stand, souffle, degree, detail.


Storytelling is not dead.


It’s Hemmingway, King, Rowling, DeLillo, Seuss, Lewis, and Springer.

It’s Friday night lights.

It’s the interrogation of grandparents, aunts, uncles.

Realization, and submission.

It’s the sound of water as it spirals into a drain, over rocks, between toes, over turtle shells, and in the sewer.

It’s the dried spit clinging to microphone steel.

Broken video game controllers, used dried up batteries, calculator histories.

It’s Edgar Allen Poe.

It’s people that speak in quotations, the unmistakable wonder.  It’s like when Ben Franklin once said,

“Admiration is the daughter of ignorance.”

It’s mothers falling down stairs.

It’s short people creating up stares.


Ladies and gentlemen, I say to you, Storytelling is not dead.


It’s the evolution of Hip-Hop.  Chuck-D’s opinion of Flav post VH-1.

Guitar melodies created under pressure, out of love, in garages, during hostile takeovers.

It’s Beowulf: Grendal’s mom’s pissed-offed-ness…any mom’s pissed-offed-ness!

Public bathrooms, hotel ice-machines.

It’s the comb that you found on the ground by Steve’s house.

The creation of bologna.

It’s anything sold on EBay.

Broken staplers and dinner break-ups.

It’s the way she looked at you after you sang, fought, got on the bus, walked the dog, swept the floor, watched football, or signed up for the Christian newsletter…

It’s garage sale board games, and web sites still dedicated to helping people understand Y2K.

It’s explosions.

The turning off of iPhones.  The shut down of Comcast.  It’s power-outage.

It’s everything you’ve ever smelled, touched, tasted, and heard…


Storytelling is not dead.  We’ve just become lazy.


There it is!  I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it and found myself inspired by the ideas that came from it.

Happy reading!


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