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Rob Sandman May 2016
Playin' games.
=============
Jay Text Sandman aka Skitz Text

Set the timer click click now the clock is tick tockin'.
I came to play the game. Like a KNIK KNAK knockin'.
Your rhyme flow is slow you know like PLAYDOUGH.
I gobble up fine rhymes like a HUNGRY HIPPO.
Like SUBBUTEO I kick it.
Shruggin' off your challenge like BUCKAROO kickin'..
..up ****. I sunk your BATTLESHIP.
You played out your game of CHARADES. That's it.
I dig deep in me rhyme dictionary.
You scrawl on the the wall like palsy PICTIONARY.
Not strugglin'. I'm jugglin' the rhymes in me head.
Slam dunk. KERPLUNK. Nuff said.
No, never. No way. Who am I kiddin'?
You know I got the rhymes. And I got the rhythm.
I confess. Like a game of CHESS.
Checkmate. No debate. Not a pretty pawn missin'. *  

It’s the end of the games like RIP,
I Multikill MC’s like COD,
Keep your mind on your MINECRAFT can’t catch me,
Cause Skitz is EC's Artillery,
droppin bombs watch the FALLOUT or you’re Dogmeat
FAR CRY from the old days of CRT
So your attempt is DOOMed best clear the room,
SWAT’s get Swatted Mic shotgun BOOM!,
Blast backdraft will destroy your CIV,
No cheat codes PAC em up MAN time to give,
RESPEC- to the PORTAL gun hangin’ on me hip,
You’ve got HALF a LIFE left faster than NO CLIP
But I said no cheatin’ Hackers get Hacked up,
No Multiplayer,cause you’ve no backup,
I’m glorying in the games we play,
Checkmate VS XBOX  pass to Jay.


Chorus
Not mentionin' names. We're playin' games.
Energetic and poetic and it's Jay to blame.
Set the mic aflame. We burn it up now.
Set the timer click, click.  

When I flex it's hectic. Like SCALEXTRIC.
Switch lanes to PERFECTION.
I've a MONOPOLY in this game.
Don't pass go. Go straight to jail.
You fall like DOMINOES. I leap like a salmon.
Tisk tisk. Big RISK. Now I have BACKGAMMON.
Stamina. A steady hand OPERATION.
Ace up me sleeve and I'm just playin' PATIENCE.
Got me POKERface on.
Read 'em and weep as the game plays on.
I got a dead mans hand but I animate the mic.
BULLDOGS charge. You know I'll reach the other side.
Back to me den.
Repeat after me like SIMON SAYS.
RED ROVER, RED ROVER. I call Jay over.
You think it's over ?
No my friend. *  

Not mentionin' names. We're playin' games.
Energetic and poetic Schizophrenic to blame.
Set the mic aflame. We burn it up now.
Set the timer click, click.  

This Steam Machine is heatin' up a treat
So don’t be TEKKEN the ****,just feel the beat,
This KOMBAT’s MORTAL to enemies,
But it’s a full HEALTH PACK to Fans of E.C.,
So OverClock your CPU,
get your Soundcard Jumpin like chimps in SIM ZOO,
drop DICE on ICE from here to Timbuktoo,
STREET FIGHTER’s and Writers BIOSHOCKin' you


Not mentionin' names. We're playin' games.
Energetic and poetic Schizophrenic to blame.
Set the mic aflame. We burn it up now.
Set the timer click, click.  

I SPY with my little eye.
Somethin' beginnin' with J. I let fly.
As your JENGA tower wobbles.
I smile. You drop tiles. Dropped your poxy box of SCRABBLE.
Look out. That could spell disaster.
Triple word score as the rhymes rip past ya. Blast ya.
Quick out the trap like The Flash playin' SNAP.
Check the lyrical master. *
As the Dungeon Dragon spreads his wings-lets fly
playin' the game the pied piper pies,
catch you rats in me MOUSETRAP its a snap,
"cause I wrote the rhymes that broke the bulls back"
I'm the KING OF THE HILL I got ya QUICKSCOPIN'
in THE SHADOWS OF MORDOR prayin' and hopin'
for a hero like MARIO to bust you loose,
Jay's SNAKE'n' up the LADDER time to twist the noose


Not mentionin' names. We're playin' games.
Energetic and poetic E.C. to blame.
Set the mic aflame. We burn it up now.
Set the timer click, click.  

What ya think ?              
Me rhymes kink, bend and fold like TWISTER.
A wicked rhythm like DOUBLE DUTCH. Skip, skip.
Like EVEL KNIEVEL. Flywheel spinnin'.
Rev it up. Dump the clutch.        
See me grinnin'. Knockin' down the pin and..
SPIROGRAPH lines in me rhyme. I'm spinnin..
..out of control. You can't cope with me GYROSCOPE.
I bring you back to the beginnin'.*

Not mentionin' names. We're playin' games.
Energetic and poetic E.C. to blame.
Set the mic aflame. We burn it up now.
Set the timer click, click.
Jay came up with this idea and tried to mention as many games we played as kids as he could fit in,when  he invited me onto the track I went more down the PC/Console game route,
let us know how many we missed!.
sweatshop jam Jun 2015
three years- count 'em-

it was papaya and pasta. 'vegetarian' fried rice with ikan bilis in it. an assignment that i failed. my room is above the kitchen, and sometimes i smell meat and curry and i still think, i still think,

of the kitchen that isn't mine. of utensils under the stove. of fingers butter-yellow and dappled with flour. three years- the sink still drips, drips, drips, i still shuck garlic with unskilled fingers,

three years, and you still smell like home
Rob Sandman Apr 2016
I’m a Polyglot Polymath, Microphone’s a Polygraph,
Manners of a Sociopath-Rhymin’ keeps me on the path,
Else I’d be hackin you up like a cannibal,
Pullin the Chianti out-serve you up like Hannibal,

Words heavier than Elephants invading cross the alps,
Under Armour over Body Armour-waistline fulla scalps,
From the Belt o’ the Celt o’ the Schizophrenic Sandman,
You’re triple teamed by -EC- Raps new Xmen.

I broke me chains,some say I went insane,
But it’s simple,all I went and did was grow a brain.
be the Bane of your life,while Mal plays Dark Knight,
A rhyme Super Villain with a verse of Dark Light,

The searchlights on-watch the cockroach scatter,
We speak Dark Matter while your brain gets battered,
batten down the screws-worldviews get skewed,
Mal and Sandman's Positively Mental Attitude.


It’s the original Irish OG rough rugged and ready,
Battling me is futile keep your hands steady,
I’m no pacifist,and if you take the ****,
I’ll clap you with a fist like an obelisk,

That’s a grave warning,-global warming,
The Dragon of Eire ,skies look stormy…
Since cassettes and disks I’ve been spittin ****,
That makes wannabee’s wanna slit their wrists,

The Sandman’s calling,come in and take a mauling,
Rappin since clappin one two and yes y’allin,
from New Aulins to saint Pauls my kin,
Are gathering for the quickenin,pulse races,air thickenin'
Highlander in a land cruiser,take your teeth out like a dentist
E.C’s BRUISER.
batten down the screws-worldviews get skewed,
by Mal and Sandmans Positively Mental Attitude.
Don't expect subtlety here,just like it says on the tin.
Enola Cabrera May 2016
Jagged is what I became after hearing the way you talked about her
Envisioning you caressing her peachy skin
Applying my visions to thoughts made my stomach churn
Lust became my weakness
Obsessed with the sight of your eyes looking into my soul, I was
Unsatisfied with our situation, I began to scream, as a
Savage rage started to build, growing higher and higher

-EC
Arjun Tyagi Jan 2019
(Ec)static*

Rusty voice
Blending in harmony
With the static,
over a 4 am phone call;
Wading knee deep,
In fitful sleep.
But it was precious;
The sawed voice,
The parch in her throat,
A raw call from slumber,
Into sudden awakening.
And she realized later,
Today was the first day
His voice was the voice
That interrupted
The silent dreams.
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2018
oh... so now i know where my
"st. vitus'" take on sporadic,
uncontrollable dance routines
took place:
drunk, i attempted to

whistle...

   each and every time i attempted

to whistle...

   i burst into a fire and fury
of laughter, as if i waa hearing
political satire!
every single time i'd try to whistle:
giggles...
     a bit like watching
the laws surrounding marihuana,
on a friday evening
lodged in amsterdam...
      asking myself:
am i here for the ****...
         or the puerto rican plumps
of pork chops still breathing
with a 17th century fetish
                  for excesses?

perhaps neither...
   perhaps both...
   i'll have heiny ec-ken
                 (bite of a buttocks)
nekken -
                (bite of the neck):
huh!?

  i really expected
   matthew mcconaughey
to be much taller, in real life,
let alone the oscars' ceremony.

i.e. is that a ******,
       or a ******* leprechaun?

no good trying to whistle,
when all you can do
in "return" is to giggle at the attempt, to.
Caitlin Apr 2016
There are men in this world that agree with your jokes.
Men that believe women have too many rights.
Men that believe women are too dumb to have the right to vote.
There are still men who believe that I should thank god for my large ******* as my husband will be happy. As if they were created for my husband's pleasure.
Men that believe my ****** should also belong to my husband. And that I should take cat calls as compliments because hey "that guy wants to sleep with me."
There are even men out there that believe I shouldnt be talking public speaking classes and should be spending my time in home ec because we all know "a woman's place is the kitchen." And that I shouldn't be pursuing a law degree when all I really want is an MRS.
Well I believe a woman's place is in the "house" and the Senate. And I used to think you were there fighting beside me, not across from me.
Now- you're egging on the movement to take my rights away.
That's why your sexist jokes aren't funny.
Yes I am really annoyed.
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2020
for all i care to remember...
        looking into the mirror was more or less...
something akin to:
"squirting"... **** me! SQUINTING...
      well... the contortion of the eyes...
"worrying" about a double-chin...
and of course... enough stealth acne
to make me... the bride of beelzebub
how i'd joke to myself...
         beelzebub sat on my face and *******
a tonne of... dead maggots...

           i never knew i was athletic standing
before a mirror...
i probably know that i am less athletic now...
but... looking into mirror made
sense... once...
   this russian girl...
    in st. petersburg...
   we were in "love"...
       and there was this great aventurine bed...
and... a closet with two mirrors...
and... we'd be at it...
i was looking into the mirror...
and she was looking into the mirror...
it was like: the opposite of *** on l.s.d. -
because it was like...
beyond the missionary -
the "******" of the mirror...
   as in ***... it leaves you wanting
to ******* to the *******...
because... hell...
without a mirror...
could you capture the face moaning
contorting like an experiment out
of the gehenna harem?

     for all the *** toys sold...
all those exceses of... woman's lingerie...
outfits... nurses...
   blah blah... it really takes a mirror
to spice things up...
this dead-eyed mirror canvas...
the dire-dead-necessary...
    tooth-fairy: ref. the red dragon...
i needed to see that she needed to see
that i was ******* her... and that she...
was being ******...

           mirror mirror on the wall...
**** the fair and the fairest and the fairies...
i have come to understand that mirrors...
work best...
when... not stressed to exemplify...
a concern for beauty...
   or... something that is worn...
clothes look... terribly important in a mirror...
esp. by someone wearing them
when allowed to be digested / investigated
by a mirror...

but... a mirror during ***?
when you're not performing inverted missionary...
doggy... and she's lying with clenched ****-cheeks...
i was in love once...
which also implies:
i ****** like a race-champ pony!
the mirror always helps...
i wouldn't know: whether s&m leather
and straps would... and whips...
made much of a difference...
when... the mirror... the ghost ******...
the: satan you could get away with...
if you didn't utter a comprehensive word...
but ensure a strict rigidity to...
onomatopoeias and syllables...
and... exfoliating nouns...

        upon memory being summoned...
i'm getting a bigger hard-on thinking
about all the encounters i've had with the police...
there's always at least two memorable
encounters...
getting poisoned in a nightclub...
getting on the bus...
getting off the bus... dropping like a pancake
onto the cement...
     being roused... asked by the police officer
whether i was o.k.:
making a slurred and lengthy apology...
giving my address...
and being... taken in a police van... in a cage
for a sinner... like a taxi...
back home...

    losing my virginity to a pair of handcuffs...
for ******* in an alleyway...
getting screamed at...
one officer cuffed me...
the female officer had a pen and pad ready...
in an alleyway where it was discussed:
and who's alleyway is it?
i'm too drunk already...
if i walked into a pub on friday come
10pm i'd be asked to buy a pint
in order to use their toilet...

         it's one sort of luck... gambling...
betting on a horse...
but another... being hand-cuffed...
  and then... having the hand-cuffs...
taken away...
              as this dialogue happened in the...
"invisible" shadow of the alley...
i can't exactly imagine what the onlookers
saw...
           a teasing of authority...
drinking a beer on a bench outside
a pub on a friday night...
which is... basically... taking away
the revenue... of being sardine packed...
and pyramid schemed... for failure...
but my... what a glorious night...

so i asked: and where am i... permitted...
and blah blah...
that ******* mirror... and that aventurine bed...
the same thrill during ***...
like... the thrill of stepping into a brothel...
without a need to ***...
the 9 of them: all nazgul attired in scrutiny...
before "the pick"...

   *** toys... can i please get a mirror in here?!
it has to become a standard for a healthy
sexed up relationship...
    a mirror can overpower any...
frivolity of during-***: attire...
  the imitation ******...
a mirror is... just that...
                 *** with: in third person narrative...
but... smirk-giggle:
you catching her eyes getting ******...
and she catching your eyes: ******* her...

so tame tame... unlike reading...
  the tame blushes of marquis the sade...
never to mention... this philosophical adventure
of ******... which it really is...
impeccable... trouble with: thought put into
practice...
                yes... that horrid... Fritzl case...
but unlike the idealist scenario...
the mother was notably pushed away from
the grandiosity of the sin...
and it was done... in public... with...
a purview of... shaking established social norms!
it wasn't... a rabbit-hole of horror...

              which is why i'm glad i do not
have children of my own...
   i once spent an afternoon with...
my... grand-aunts son... my uncle...
don't ask...
         and i looked like him and thought...
well... i have most certainly had more
fun with cats and dogs...
i was a complete mute...
i didn't feel like cuddling this piece
of cubism... it looked human and even
contorted like one...
perhaps if it was mine...
i could have... somehow...
            "relegated my inhibitions"?
                 n'est ce pas?
         to have children and begin with...
that ******* of differentiating vowels from
consonants... and then... building consonants...
what... 5 vowels... 21 consonants...
5 x 21 = 105 variations...
       prefix: ab, ac, ad, af, ag...
                     eb, ec, ed, ef, eg...
                           IF only! oof!
                 the suffix - ba, ca, da, fa, go...
                                 bat cat dad fat god...
and then... the 21 x 21 consonant variables...
squared to the power of 5...
because... chinese is... frankly...
so simple...

   - it's summer and...
            since i would otherwise... require ink...
to write... and the paper would somehow
be always readily available...
no need for ink...
the summer months are terrible...
for no requirement of ink...
what is ink?  ink is...
                         i need october...
i need november... december... january...
february... half of march...
i need to borrow ink from the night!
i can't scribble in these arab / kenyan months...
these sun-seeker months
of idle by the dream-pool... load of...
overtly-talked... less thought...
therefore... no need to scribble...

    i need the night for my ink...
                           "punctuation marks are in
the constellations": oh yes... honey sweet...
what's it called? cliche? we've all been there...
i too would sacrifice Hector before the altar
of Achilles if i were Priam...
                   only because: he was called Hector...
and the other was Achilles...
and i was called Priam...
       in such times... what were...
the trully... common-place names...
of stunt-men and extras?
   i'd like to know the equivalent of a john smith
from ancient greece...
what would one call: him?
            
        perhaps: i tend to think about *** when
i... most probably had a dream...
jerking off is a bit like...
checking one's blood pressure...
or as a diabetic might... ***** his index
to check the sugar levels...
i write about "***" when i've had a dream...
the dream...

i was talking to a man about cars...
notably... cars from...
america and germany...
circa the years... 1920s through to...
                the 1970s...
          and... then... the talk of... a motorcycle...
a specific motorcycle...
   a triump street cup...
                 a BMW R18... but not quiet...
whatever it was...
                    for the love of a double-decker
bus and a pair of legs...
                which is not...
to have emotionally invested
in *** was something a much younger
version of me would have done...
i thank the prostitutes of curing me of this...
debilitating disease / dream...
              which, i, prescribed... myself...
so no... i hardly think...
there were any... mummy or daddy issues...
i would skip several scenarios:
as much as i love riding a double-decker
bus... i abhor... taking a taxi...
       even if it requires me to walk...
2 miles... i'd rather walk:
for the love of legs and... voodoo dolls hanging
like corks... bend the knee: they might say...
bullet to the knee-cap... if you ask me...
again...

     perhaps i wasn't born english...
but... after... 26 years among them...
                          it "sort of" grows on you...

- man can perform a thousand:
dodo project genocides in one sitting:
on the throne of thrones...
before jumping under a baptism:
fully attired in the ganjes pyjamas
in one sitting: on the throne of thrones...
to "squat" while *******...
*******... *******...
"scented candles" of taking a shower...

i write about *** every time i have a dream...
it's to succumb to the lesser...
escapade of me...
i can stomach subjectivity...
but having to stomach idealism...
is another matter: altogether...
i would like to worship the men who
have had their fill...
and settled for the swan blockade
of the widower romance...
the widow swan...
the black widow: a ******* spider...

none of it... i ****** good i ******
well... come the prime of the age 21...
she was a gamer side-kick bedded...
she prescribed me...
                        Bulgakov...
              reading a ****** to a prussian...
or reading a ****** to a RUŚ: example: ditto...
                  i have heard of how
love supposedly closed and opened borders...
we are so antithesis "different"...
we aren't... some western "communist"
zoo study:
the people who say and then...
lucky us paupers...
who have to "loot" the infrastructure
of the vacating ****-tunnels...
because... someone has to ****-off...
their tongue and... gerbil fidgety!

albino chimpanzee and...
boxer gorilla fed on...
the promise of bulk... with nothing
but... the promise of fruits of your
labour... and nothing relating
to protein... or fat... of complex sugars
known as bread... none of that!
still: that fudge-packing bulk of
gorilla bicep protein: amass!

   - as ever... the murk: before the deep-water...
the... inverted demigods
of h. p. lovecraft...
because... cthulhu is... "somehow"...
not the ******* son of Poseidon?

acid-quasi-monkey asks...
   placid-didgeridoo...
                a constipated: not funny...
attempts! at solving a crossword!
-frankenstein-myrhh:
                        ******* dangling...
                                    (-) - Fatima...
is this... "Syria" yet?
  concerning the second coming...
concerning...
Syrian civil war... something...
*******... miraculous...
has happened...
or was about to happen...
and that it didn't happen...
better that it did:
but since it... didn't...
best we cover it up...
                corpse bride:
               Khadija **** Khuwaylid...
if ever: Stephen Vizinczey...
was a (prophet) Muhammad...
in praise of older women...

    ...a Fatima... fleeing the Syrian
civil war... because... Ramses II
was... telling apart the 7 good years
from... the 7 ******* years...

tell you what... it's no fun...
when you've been given the need
to bend the knee before the altar
of phantom power...
if i were 16 and she was 14...
if i was 18 and she was 16...
if i was 60! and she was... 20!
would it matter?
               if i was jerking off aged 8...
you want to know...
what... the last prize is...
the last... difference between...
"consent" of two adult adult...
with their *******-riddle
of a theatre of ***?
     you want to know?
the thought of ******* someone...
under-age...
no! no barbie! no ken!
the theatre of thought...
of ******* someone... underage...
who is... displaying...
teasing ***... in that primodial seance
of grief to ward of mother from
the ******...
and father from the parentage of
school!

               you ever want to see...
what... a kick in the jaw looks like...
omnipresent onlooker...
of some... unpardonable crime...
that it has to be ***-related...
              i wish i performed some
unpardonable crime on a *******...
i guess a kiss is a kiss is an unpardonable
crime against a *******...
i need this heart to shelter itself
in stone! i need: a heart!
of hard-earned: rock!
               with each sentence:
i find it impossible to not....growl!
to howl! to spew a bickering of...
wolves... of hyenas...
a wake of crows!
            
              i want toi write an echo!
hye! anoooooooooooooooooooooooooo!
i want to hear...
the microscope itching
of a marrow...
of maggots working toward
a closure of expressing: scotch fudge!
i want! maggot marrow!
i want! the lost sounds of...
what the fox already minded...
in...                       χαoς! ρει(γ)νς!
yes... the gamma is a surd...
                 in this... english... equation...

last time i checked:
the cognitive theatre of the forbidden...
****** "lax"...
it's enough to tease the affair with
mere thought...
to have... people "bothered"
that one thinks... such "things"!
while the girl... prime... aged... 14...
teases you with...
exfoliations of...
                      script and... censure...
like a skirt...
but of course...
you're the dodo-project genocidal maniac
about to sport a new: cushioning
extreme...
of an ******* like...
you're minding teasing...
a high-blood pressure!

          can i allow myself a giggle?
a crown of: a dozen demons laughing
as relevant: to the 12 strong cohort of...
cognitive lapses of reason?
          
  ******* before a mirror is my...
my memory and my last concern for...
"adventure"...
a ****** ******* a russian girl so freely...
she fed off of us as...
     spinning a willow to confine itself to:
those rhubarbs in... "retro"...
no... i'm pretty sure... "they"...
the western communists would have minded
it coming across as...
  rhubarb... dreads... stiff 12" drizzle /
drool bits of a tight-knit white sporting ***!
my... oh... wait...
not exactly 16... so... no...

my... what?!
    this has to become one of those...
most... "unspectacularbly": "a least"
in what's to be digested... "fogiven"...
when... there's that teasing-**** of a per-se
readied for her rite of horror to be
met with ******* the...
upper... echelons...
to the queue! to the loiter!
to the...                cue: no dry martini equipped...
sort of... joke as... a variation
of... escapism: to excuse...
fixations... of social hierarchy...

    i am hardly a misogynist...
            it's almost... fake...
how feminists point out... death-pull...
the misogynists...
clinging to philanthropists... i suppose...
it's like...
"someone" forgot...
to... mention...
the benevolent in misanthrophy...
the happily allied to the ivory tower...
whether you're a man or a woman...
or a man pretending to be a woman...
or a woman pretending to be a man...

who is... the misanthrope?
            the solipsist...
the atheist: should you be god?
the altruist... the... fiddly-bit... extreme...
the... autist?
         who is... your... claim for...
******-****** ruleZ the world?
mother of all perfected children...
a bit like jerking off to...
those gravure beijing models...

ava lauren? she is... an aged looking
*******... closure: madame...
she earned it...
her skin is like leather...
you dare to: wear it...
   but... oops: the ubermensch...
these chinese "brides" are not...
photoshopped...
they're genetically edited...
it was apparent that china
didn't have a soul...
in its summa summarum...
or in its christ redeemer...
when... india has its rich
polytheism... pedagogy:
shiva the antithesis of vishnu:
the thesis...

    i can feel... at least!
i can feel abbreviated with the raj master...
sport...
sending a few "*******" to beijing!
let's hear a story...
no... i'm fuming mad:
i'm dying! to hear that coin-flip
of a tail: of bending the... fuckning knee:
capping... as one might!

there's a <100million of "me"...
there's... a >1billion of "them"...

   while:
            i ****** off to...
          genetically edited creatures...
the western world can hide
behind its setting sun: metaphor...
photo-editing... while...
the hot-**** beijing is...
gene-editing...
west-world 1972 bronze age:
"staging a coup"..

             yeah: gurran-gu-dag...
the arabs and their bangladeshi...
queen-bee sorted...
           elizabeth II...
royal ascot...
  i.e. lamborghinis raced on knightbridge...
because: arab playboys are to be...
minded...

write long... to ensure...
people read short... little chance
of censor-loved-up-pseudo-i.q.-heroes!
100 years later: you become a pseudo-Proust /
a Joyce... but... that also implies:
you're stiff up at the neck...
in death and sand... and worms...
in a grave! so? no turkish kebab:
no malmuk / no janissary resurrection!
afteryourimbaud Dec 2018
to:
edward,
you
are
in our
breath.

r[ain

dro

ps

on

ev

ery

fa

ll

en

le

aves]

­ec
l
usive.
L Jan 2016
EC
"Once you commit the sin, how easy is it to do it again? Very."
Leigh
Enola Cabrera Jun 2016
Key
Society was the cell
Self doubt was the lock
My thoughts were the chains
My insecurities were the steel door
And confidence was the key
-EC
We are all trapped in our own minds
Enola Cabrera May 2016
Vicious black rage enveloped his eyes
Electric hate cycled through him
Naturally he resorted to the action he knew best
Graphically and meticulously he planned his revenge  
Enhancing his weaknesses into strengths
Forward he went, ready for bloodshed
Undoubtedly he went for is first five on the list  
Letting his cold vexation take over

-EC
Rob Sandman Apr 2016
never look back,that easy to say ,
harder to do when you're stuck in your ways,
replace lots wife with a Pillar of Sand...,(man-echo)
that's me to a T,never mind the plans,

but...-that was yesterday,clipped that string,
metaphorically,physically taking wing,
movin up-outta my shell,
like a Pupae burstin,time to raise hell,

The original Butterfly Effect in motion,
Sandman's Dreams cross time and oceans,
flap my wings-watch the firestorm,
EC take another land by storm,

Huh!-that's my role,the batterin ram,
mad March hare with the guile of the Sandman,  
Kilojules outstrip a railgun,
first blast to the past,never goin back to Square one.
More to come...
Enola Cabrera May 2016
Observing the outside world from a forbidden screen
Listening to the wind tauntingly, calling upon me
Come and dance with I
It would plead
Beckoning me to join the dancing leaves
Leaving my shadows behind the trees

-EC
Hidden Secrets Apr 2014
how funny it is
when i was younger
mother would kiss my
boo-boos and bandage
them up.
cause you see im a
bit grown now- and i
cause my own cuts-
mother does not kiss
them- no band aid
do they see
my mother thinks I'm
crazy, my sister believes
im insane. i just shake
my head when they say
that cause i know they
dont know my pain.
you might not believe me
but these cuts keep me
at ease, they allow me to breathe
so please dont think im
crazy, dont call me insane...

ec
Enola Cabrera May 2016
Protector of the night,
Lighting my path as I venture in the shadows
A comfort of beautiful tranquility
Almost angelic with its dim white milky silhouette
Hovering over with unearthly eloquence

Touching me with silvery grace
Engulfing me in a winsome embrace  
Glaring into my soul, caressing it with godly elegance, as
Lovely little embers of affection burned through your skin
Sorrowful distance separated us, leaving an unfillable void

Half of the day you are nowhere to be seen
But I never am alarmed
Feeling ever so calm because I know your insightful presence is near
Never leaving me in the dark of the night
You are my soft light- a promise

-EC
Enhancement of the original The Moon
Rob Sandman Jul 2017
Don't ever let my calm demeanor fool you,
you opened your mouth now its time to School you,
in the deadliest art, I tear you apart,
you're done from the start-get back in your Kart
and go blow your Horn,

while my Sonic Boom engraves my Chi into the Matterhorn
If I let rip they're zippin' up your rap crimes as evidence,
cause many moons ago I first set the Precedent-
Presidential rhymer but I'm no Twitter Twit,

When I bring the pain I like it to be intimate,
I'm Sado your Maso can't admit you're into it,
try to stop your toe tapping no control of it,
first strike Staccato, then smoooth like a Stiletto,
sliding into Silk Skin you let go
...

Chorus

Cause I'm your Sensei, show respect to your Teacher,
Bow Loooow cause I've a long way to reach ya,
won't breach your Confidence-just your Defense,
batter clatter shattered Armour-Helm full of dents


As I let go, ooh kid look what you done did,
Saw a Tigers tail twitchin' and then ya pulled it!,
shoulda mulled it over, now I pulled ya over,
now you're clickin your heels squeakin' no place like home huh?
      
                                *****
Your weak wordplay VS my Lyrical Swordplay
could put you down like child's play - *Behold your Sensei

Join the ranks? - no easy way, just the EC way...
don't like it? there's the door for the greasy strays...
      
                           ++++++++++++++++++  

but if you stay?--- you'll learn from the best,
lyrical onslaughts Dim Mak sounds stop hearts in chests,
or open  minds to other possibilities...

Stick with us kid, find the Sea of tranquility-
become a Warrior Poet heart full of Nobility,
use words as weapons to expose Fragility,
then some day you too can be a Sensei...

When you're a Sensei you discover lifes the Teacher,
Open up your Third eye, let the whole world reach ya,
I greet you - as a worthy Proponent,
always ready for the next opponent...


Some just can't and won't learn the lesson,
even when I break it down to the essence,
essentially your Sensei sees...
at least four **** moves ahead o' ye,

That's why i'm so relaxed while I'm battlin'
your nerves are fraught your nails bit-teeth chatterin',
face scrunched up in fear of the batterin'
you go from Rambo to Lamb as I unleash a Cataclysm


                        
******

A Thesaurus Tesseract powerin' a Juggernaut,
Bipolar Jaeger Driver Plasma weapon o' thought,
my life is a War zone my weapons are words,
Paleface Shamefaced attacker reveals a hidden sword

but I've met ya before defeated with metaphor,
Meta-Physical giant like fallin' through Smithsonian floor,
Deception meets Conception like Inception,
then my Dai Katana rips through your mid section...cause


I'm a Sensei-world class instructor rhymin',
you lost the beat and now you're off timin',
a wounded Gazelle limpin' cross the plains,
I take aim - release you from your Pain*

Cause I'm a Sensei use my art for my Zanshin,
reflexively inflexively effortlessly Dancin'
across the page across the stage across your lives...
Cause a true Sensei knows the real teacher...is LIFE


Love you all, stay strong, stay positive Act- don't React
Mr Sandman 11/07/17 (4:47!)
Staccato like Tic Tac Toe, then Smoooooth but still deadly like a Tiger on a Silk bed...
another one that just fell out of me, expect a link to this Rhyme set to music,
watch this Space!
Rob Sandman Mar 2016
That's it,I've had enough of it it's time to go,
all the work I've put in,with nothing to show,
the cronyism,phonyism,plagiarism,thievery,
like the Ireland I love is a fading memory,
reeling in the years,yeah great  nostalgia,
but staying any longer is a form of mania-
the banks and the builders and political ****,
it's all work no play,no mon no fun,
so **** it,now my bags are packed jack,I'm hitting the road
broad shoulders slowly dipping from the constant load,
of backstabbers,moneygrabbers,tribunals,and deaths,
make a break while I can,they haven't beat me yet,
yeah I gotta get goin' while the goin's good,
I hope you understand my reason's,both friends and blood,
now it's time to make a move before I go insane,
don't be grieving when I'm leaving on the next **** plane
(Sample john denver here)

"I'm leavin on a jetplane,don't know when I'll be back again"

Looking at those before me you can trace the tracks,
from the Wild Geese to the political flak,
the Children of Eire,like the Children of Lir*
fly from lake to lake,driven by need and fear,
and optimism-everybody wants a better life,
to escape the butcher's apron,and the subtler knife,
of poverty,loss of identity,clan's torn asunder,
a lightning storm rages,listen to the thunder,
austerity cuts,don't make me laugh,
fat greedy politicians cut your wages in half,
so they can stuff their faces,wallets,and banks,
said it 12 years ago,you think they give a ****?,
about your family's health,they say tighten your belt,
well mine's met in the middle,time to hand out welts,
a proud Celtic tradition flushed down the drain,
so slan leat for now time to catch that plane.

Took a long time,to make this decision,
every tear,every smile is another incision,
in the heart of me the start of me,born again,
looking at my boarding pass brings a pang of pain,
but everyone knows for me-it's time to move on,
and I'll keep the torch lit,Yeah-EC strong
turned from Hermit to Hermes,with a message to pass,
I've took enough names,time to kick ***,
so wish me luck wish me well,watch me give em hell,
I got a way with words and what a story to tell,
hurdles to pass and a long way to go,
so much to say but I still flow slow,
memories are pulling me in two directions,
spun my tires so long,time to gain some traction,
it's time for action,my reason's are plain,
so hold it down for me here,I gotta catch that plane"
(Sample john denver here)

"I'm leavin on a jetplane,don't know when I'll be back again"
Another true story from the S-Files.
I wrote this song while waiting for a Plane in Dublin Airport many years ago.
Enola Cabrera May 2016
Diving into the dark depths of the sea,
Looking for my pearl with a never ending glee
Recovering the emotions that were buried down deep
Finding the claws of my past that I never wanted to keep

At last I found my pearl after endless looking
Why is this one pearl so special?
Because it was bestowed in the depths of the sea obtaining the real me

-EC
Never stop looking for the real you and if you have already found yourself never let it slip from your grasp
Sayer Jul 2013
I
love is all that can destroy hate
back and forth among turbulent waters
she doesn't see me like I see her
(but it's okay)
i can wait

i've only waited years and years
and every other little thing(this and that)
is gone and has vanished out of my sight

if i had one wish to do with these words
just a little more (just a little much more please)
if i had just one wish for i to gain the confidence
not in phone calls face-to-face
among this disgrace (violent voice shaking)

because every time I think of you i sweat
sitting in immense heat and panic attacks of power
nothing really ever matters (love is the only thing that can destroy hate)

but I know what you need is to calm down
and let me out of my box
because we are both going to sit
in anger and regret

and i know this is the last year
the last year anything can happen
I don't want to leave in a bend
but everything must have an end

just as before, just as before
the smile
don't tear me apart
please this is my heart

our heart
is not
anyone
else's
please
don't
leave me
at the end

II
the last thing i ever wanted was for an end to come into a beautiful supernova
but maybe I'll forget it all in a few years
meet someone else
someone else'll come in
(but that's why you need to tell me)

maybe you feel the same exact way
afraid because of restrictions
but dear, there's no such thing as private property
a sign placed to keep people out
he demands you to stay away
they demand you to leave

i will
never
ever
let this go

as long as you can
tell me

there's no such thing as private property when you look at it
no censoring no treason
just pure old good old real exactly real love

love no one understands
a love with no fights
a love not for the basic American dream
a love for those who want to write
a love for those who wish to dream
the real love that's been forgotten in time

and you can teach me
and I can teach you
in a peaceful garden
with little work
because everything's perfect
(when you're around)

III
there's about four steps into the wonder
to do so i must cross the line and you too
so we can meet in the middle
and lights in the sky will sing falsetto

and i will cross the line
to take what i know is mine
and you will cross
and take the toss
of Love

ev
er
yt
hi
ng
wi
ll
be
pe
rf
ec
ti
kn
ow
it

(cross the line to take what's mine and cross the border to take what's yours.)
There's no such thing as private property

IV
In Love
In Peace
In Understanding

In Hope
In Joy
In Heartbreak
In Tears

In Kids
In Choices

In Dreams
In Fears

In Hair
In Kisses

In ***
In Matrimony

In Nothing
In Voids
In Time
In Lines
In Who?
In What?

In Signs
In Mine
In Yours

In Property
In Towns
In Sleep
In Day
In Cities
In Decay

In Books
In Movies
In Lies
In Truth

In Houses
In Apartments
In Substance
In Death
In Life

In You
(yes)
In Me
(yes)
In Bliss
(yes)
In Nothing
(forever)
In Everything
There, finally wrote something good.
Enola Cabrera Jun 2016
Admiring the vibrant landscape
As the sweet earthy scent drowns my senses
Observing tree leaves flirtatiously dancing with the wind,
The flowers parading their colors to the sun, And the vivid green grass continued to spread

-EC
It was my first time meeting a writer
Brand new book, published and everything
He stood, quivering, sheltered, in his wrinkled black 501s—
Costumed tailored shirt, the initials read EC
Blazer, black suede. Let’s not forget his outdated soul patch
Bald with long hair in the back, a pity of a mullet
He spoke to me, what do you wanna know?
About? Everything. You have to write. So, write.
We get interrupted; he has to make a speech
The crowd is four glasses in. A man whispers to me smokescreen
Typical, no respect.
He shakes, his mouth scared to even move, fumbling every word
I need a glass.
I pour it; he downs it and begins to read
Slur
The audience mingles, forgets why they are here. What should we eat?
A pause, an applause.
And no one gave two ***** about what he had to say
Or what he wrote.
All, but me.
It was great meeting you, pop a bottle of pinot
and we’ll talk more about what not to do in writing.
Or, we can just drink.
He taught me everything.
Enola Cabrera May 2016
Wrapped in your luscious balmy arms
Feeling your warmth, your colorful protection
I breathe you in, smelling the earth’s soil,
Piney trees, and the musty rain from the night before
Seeing the effervescent teardrops of water on the fresh leaves and the reflecting stream that beholds our picture
Hearing quiet tapping as it begins to sprinkle
The air began to thicken as the wind started to rage
Looking into your eyes I see a  roar that cannot be contained
A wildfire with a never ending spark
Never fearing our love will be bland
For, you touched me with your soft pleasant hands, promising spice
I could taste the deliciously  sweet sharp  tang  of our affection
With you,
I am home

-EC
Enola Cabrera May 2016
Protector of the night,
Lighting our paths as we venture in the shadows
A comfort of beautiful tranquility
Almost angelic with its dim white milky silhouette
Hovering over with unearthly eloquence*

-EC
PK Wakefield Mar 2011
i went about the down and cleand own b yth ec l ea n
lithe bony bay ribbing the asphalt skin chuckTaylors'
and by and by the astute angle of the seas daunting
tailored skinny notch a grommet of sun ****** through
the scaly tremble of wispy ***** clouds spunting and breatheing
casual volumes of aromatic fluid bumbling out their tired
mouths and ******* on the lax pavement some of the heavy
drops "sPloosh!' wenting the ocean did and going "
whOosh ! "     the waves are munificently scrambling all about the rough timber
of the agile dock sitting sorely all alonesome and fickle
    so i gave it my feet
and wattled to its precocious face
and slid into the big
       blatant crumble
:      THE WATER
Enola Cabrera May 2016
A place greater than the mind
Filled with color, grace, life, energy, radiance
A setting that is always growing and prospering
Except one flower
The flower died, the petals shriveled up, the stem slowly went from a bright, vibrant green to a dark, musty brown
The petals fell from their home, separating, drifting, slipping
Into a black oblivion, until they find themselves again

-EC
Enola Cabrera May 2016
Close your eyes
She said
Now think of your worst and best day together as one*
As I rummaged through my memories I could only think of one day

The day I realized my love for you would never fade  

-EC
Ben Jan 2012
the feeling of love
a long lost friend
left due to disuse,
distrust, a lack of
motivation for lack
of better words
to cynical?
to jaded?
or just to scared?
to bridge that gap
to take the first step
the feeling of love
all but forgotten unlike
the very real, very close
feeling of pain, of loss
of being alone
of causing another harm
do i dare take the leap
do i dare risk the fall
the inevitable or is it?

my heart searches
screams out to the void
for a companion
answers hidden
and only hears its own
echo
        echo
                 ech
                        ec
                             e
                                .








*i am so very alone
Enola Cabrera Jun 2016
Our romance was a song
A melody that only we could sing
Lyrics came from our lives colliding
All the while the instruments were playing the beat of our passion
We were a lovely tune
Constantly on repeat
-EC
We were a song
Ann M Johnson Jun 2014
I recently went on a website House Of Names.Com
I discovered that my maiden name means Spindle
I don't think it defines me ,my sisters have inherited
the sewing gene not me.
In Home  EC.  in high school I got my finger stuck in
the needle, I did not fall asleep and get woken up by a prince
I instead got make fun of by my teacher and peers alike
When I made  a mistake and used a seem ripper, I ripped the material
Worse of all I was new at sewing and I was given the project of making a sweatshirt with ribbing, and the teacher Exclaimed, " I thought I would you something that was challenging, but I didn't know you had no talent", in front of the whole class, that really hurt and discovering what my name means, has brought up bad memories for me. On the plus side ,though I can sew on a button by hand,beyond that I prefer to delegate the responsibility of sewing to someone else. What's in a Name? I ask you? what does your name mean?
Does it define you or not?
As far as I'm concerned I want to be defined by other things besides my name, if other people don't like it, I say sew what!
Hi, it has been a stressful week, sorry if I'm venting, it was a neat site though and it is nice to learn what certain names mean. I am curious to know what your names mean my Hello Poetry if you wish to share.
WickedHope Sep 2014
Mother, you were good to me. You loved me in your own way that I didn't always understand. Don't blame yourself.
Father, you loved me, I suppose. I can't say that you cared though, at least, not about me.
Brother, don't turn out like me, make something of yourself. Don't try to become anyone else, to impress people, to fit in, just be yourself. Stop being so violent, it will get you into trouble.
KB, I know you never really picked me and I didn't quite pick you, but I think maybe God did, picked us for each other. You were the best friend I could have ever hoped for. Thank you for everything. I wish I could have shown you what you meant to me.
EK and EC, you were the best friends who could be depended on even though you weren't properly appreciated. I'm sorry.
AJ, God, you re-instilled in me the hope that people can change, that people can be beautiful. Thank you for Fridays, for my birthday, for Brazil, and for picking up at 2 a.m.
AK and DF, you were the most inspiring and genuine friends I've ever known. Thank you for showing me friendship.
JW, don't stop singing, playing, and laughing- you are music people should dance to.
KJ and MG, my oldest friends, thank you for never leaving me long. You are both so lovely, only accept what you truly deserve, please, okay?
MO, try not to be too naive or too much of a smart ***, alright? And thank you, for being part of my 'theme' and proving a point.
Finally, AM, I haven't known you long, but thank you for letting me need you.

Don't miss me, but don't forget me.
I love you all.
Thinking about death lately. I think this is what I'd want to say in my note... No, I don't plan on actually killing myself, just, thoughts... too many thoughts.
Cheryl Tan Apr 2015
do you remember our little corridor
that blackish floor between two and three
where dreams were made and staged and broken
where we were free and still made eleven

your voice echoes along three black walls
and your laughter, along the green
i still remember what you said about your sister
and how i held you as you cried with me

it's three months over, but i see you still
dancing through a building in the sky
i hope you're smiling, where you are
free from the dark stage you chose to leave behind

it's funny how it all comes back in waves
maybe you miss it too - all the fun
maybe you're up there, smiling down
maybe you're somewhere, saluting the sun

and when my turn comes, i'll look for you
in another space unscathed by time
i'll embrace you tight in a fresnel light
and softly sing you lullabies

but for now,
i'll just keep going on
i'll keep you where time cannot erase you
and where no one can ever hurt or break you:
i'll keep you in our little corridor
the blackish floor between two and three
where dreams were made and staged and broken
where we were free; where we'll always make eleven.

-c.t.
For the ten of you: Jimmy, Dougie, Deanie, Normal, Mel, Phoebe, Charles' crazy wife, Trudy, Sunshine's guardian, and..of course, Suspicious Moon.

It's a different kind of pain - the kind that never goes away, and I begin to realise that nobody really will understand unless they experience it for themselves. So we'll hold on to each other until our turn comes. And when it does, when we finally make eleven again, it'll finally be okay.

— The End —