Sunday, June 19, 2011


I hope this posts or I'll be pissed.  Posting them all since being able to post is a rare gift for me~

If a tree falls in the forest, And doesn't make a sound.
Then do girls still put on make-up, When no one is around?
If poems are wrote but never read, Are your feelings really let out?
And if no one cries when you are dead, Then what was life about?
If feelings get the best of you, Why do they leave you numb?
And if he leaves when the sex is through, Why do they call it come?
If opening your mouth proves you a fool, Why are the mute called dumb?
And if the box could think outside of you, You'd have a lot more fun.
If dead men tell no tales, Why do they become legends?
And if all your friends are going to hell, then wouldn't that be heaven?
If nice guys finish last, Then why aren't we all bad?
If I could travel to the past, Could I kill my own dad?
If all men have their price, What is the price of freedom?
And if her heart is as cold as ice, What happens when she's peed on?
If we are all so special, What makes someone unique?
If you always do what they tell you, I hope they say that you can speak.
If cheaters never prosper, Do rich men never cheat?
And what do you have to offer, If all you do is seek?
If blessed are the meek and humble, Why do they get beat down?
Just because you never scream or grumble, Doesn't mean you never frown.
If there's more than one way to shave a cat, How should you shave your pussy?
And if pussy-whipped is how you act, Can you stick it in her tooshie?
If there are no stupid questions, Why do we stick to facts?
And did I forget to mention, Or did you forget to ask?
If might really makes right, Then let's all have a fight.
And since we know that we all die, Why should we cling to life?


Slam poetry sonds better when it's read out loud~  Caps for emphasis

Marital Affairs cause Glares and Stares from Angels and Brethren on their Stairway to Heaven.  You'll have to Excuse Them, our Loose Lips Confuse Them, the Noose Slips right Through the Two Rings you have Tied.  The Moon Brings the Tide as it wanes and it Waxes and the board you Ride out on gets lost in the Fact That you've gone with the Sunset.  The sins of the Sons Get Exponentially Broader as the Failures of Fathers are passed down into Darkness.  So we Harness the Farces of Forces in Choices and Start our last March two by two to the Ark.  We Hark unto Angels and Depart from the Strangle Hold of these Gold Idols we quietly Go with our heads hanging Low from the Slow Steady Dread that is Boiling and Spoiling our Hopes to find Bread.  Not mannah but Money, this paper tastes Funny, we're Drunk off this Blood that they're calling his Love.  So they hold out their Plate and we fill it with Cash and they say he will Hate us if we do not Pass this Platter of Pleasure onto our next Neighbor and ask for a Favor, can you fill up my Glass?

Mischievous Mimsies are Devious Simply because it will Work for them to cause Hurt.  The Still Will see Dirt when they can't keep up Pace and end up in Third Place to earn Cups that are Laced with  passionless poison poison, dropping them on their Face.  The Joys they Embrace are just Toys all Encased in the Packings and Wrappings of bows that are Fake.  They're slow to Intake and Aknowledge the Knowledge that I spit in the Mugs of these Motherless Monsterous gaggles of Giddy Fools, Giggling and Snickering about how they Got away with Not breaking the Rules.  The law of the Land is to confuse every Man and to keep us Happy with all of these Bland Dreams that I cannot Stand.  The Fantasy Land is unthinkably Grand and your Chances of finding it are vast as the Sand.  Just Imaging your Standing on top of a Mountain and drinking from Fountains of Youth and True Love.  Aim for it Because if you Don't then you Won't Ever find Better and Sunnier Weather, the Funnier Jesters stand up and they've Spoke.  They've Told all the Truths and Denied all the Lies and the Juciest Fruit of wisdom is their Prize.  Listen and Believe, you will not be Deceived if you will only Please look them right in their Eyes.  Your Life is still Yours, it's your choice to do Chores, but if that's what you Abhor, take a look at this Line:  Your world is completely wrapped up in your Mind, so follow your passion and you'll be just Fine.


This one you can skip, it's rhyming practice but it actually sounds really cool and deep when you read it fast out loud to your friend~  But it makes no sense.  So I titled it, Babbling

Melodies of felonies fill the courts.
Coarse comedies honestly honor the ports
of pirates piloting impervious visions
of missions aborted like ornerous children.
Misgiven mislead and instead of forgiven
fomidable spiritual serial wisdom
of women within some cereberal system.
The clerical queerical theoretical thespians
invest in themselves all the hells of a healthy man.
They can't understand that the scant and unplanned
unmistakeably damned demons hated and fated
irresponsible clans that demand you berated
inconsequential as sand sifting through
oceans blue as the potions of sad.
Magnificient marvelous murderous miscreants
harness the malovent merciful innocents.
Idiots impose upon those who want foes
and what goes to town comes around
when the lovely sounds moan
and the goin' gets tough when their luck runs out cold.
Coal dust will snuff the life right out of your soul,
so you'll blow all your dollars on colorful clothes.
Close minded, my kind friend, in line with old goals.
The ghouls feast on fools for free shoes on the road.

In fact, I could've probably left ou the introduction and gotten some nice comments about how gnostically insightful this poem is~~~


This one's called, Seperate Paths, Same Destiny.

Boys and their toys, Girls and their pearls.
Boys stay employed, Girls run the world.
Guys will tell lies, Dolls will not call.
Guys want their prize, Dolls want it all.
Men will have plans, Women have systems.
Men try again, Women just miss them.
Johns try to con, Janes know the game.
Johns are all wrong, Janes are a pain.
Kings buy the rings, Queens will then sing.
King has a scheme, Queen had a dream.
Compromise bridges chasms, and we do it because.
Girls can fake orgasms, but boys can fake love.


If I had one thousand pages to write how much I HATE you on, I'd waste nine hundred and ninety-nine, because you're really not worth my time, so you only get this one.  I fucking Hate you.

~and I hope you die~


^that one looks a lot better in my journal, where the last line is surounded by hearts and smiles and swirlies and angels...

And now for my personal favorite...

Quick quips slip lips
Bitch Snitch digs ditch
Fixed with lit clip
Slick Clique fixed shit.

And you'll never know who it's dedicated to :]  :)  :D

Love me lovely,


  1. wow, that's a HUGE update. Glad you're still alive/posting though. It's been while I see...

    So your internet situation is wack?

  2. Damn, girl. But yes, poems that are never read do release you emotions.
    You are putting something into the world that wasn't there when you woke up.
    Hope that makes you feel better.

  3. You are truly a genius of the highest caliber. The second one actually made me dizzy. I think after writing something like this my brain would be so tired i'd have to sleep for a week...

  4. hehe, I love the 1000 page one. Have that feeling from time to time


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poems and thoughts by E.A. Skanchy is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License