"skittle" poems
Hare Krishna's
In their Pickups
Depressed Comics
Down on their Luck
Teenage Girls
Screaming Meme's
****** Pinko's*
Leftward Leaning
Vincent Price
Flo and Eddie
Rodger Rabbit
Priscilla Presley
Nuns in Habits
Dwarf's in Ponchos
Deadbeat Dads
Munching Nachos
Right-Wing Nut Jobs
Trading Slogans
A few Hero's
Including Hogan
Are just a few of the sights you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee
Buddhist Monks
With Electric Banjos
Holding Signs Up
Of Marlon Brando
Taxi Cabs
Blaring Show Tunes
Pregnant Women
Down-loading Soon
Derby Jockeys
Flying Monkeys
Kool-Aidholics
Skittle Junkies
Bozo The Clown
Bumper Stickers
Psychedelic
Crazed Toad Lickers
Rhinestone Cowboys
In their Skivvies
Gothic Girls
Heebie Jeebies
Are just a few of the sights you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee
Blue Haired Granny's
In pink Moo Moos
Ballerina's In
Tattered Tutus
Mathematician's
Number Crunchers
Even have Some
Out to Lunchers
Model 50's
*Do *** Daddies*
One More Round Of
Flo and Eddie
People Sneaking
Across the Border
Lonely Fry Cooks
Taking Orders
A Few Wannabes
Not Saying Much
Will The Real Elvis
Please Stand Up
Are just a few of the sights that you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee
Thank you...Thank you very Much
Ladies and Gentlemen
Elvis...Has Left The Building
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 8:59 AM UTC
"I've always felt like a yellow skittle in a sea of red skittles."
"what a coincidence. yellow skittles happen to be my favorite flavor of skittles."
"ok."
"ok."
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 5:30 PM UTC
A Woman of Many Words
I am a Woman of Many Words
I am drawn to all those places
That words congregate:
Libraries and bookstores
Road signs and billboards
Ticket stubs and subtitles
Nametags and license plates
Each one a journey driving inside me
I am a Woman of Many Words
I love the way the shapes feel in my mouth
The skittle taste of syllables
I am drawn to especially long words
With their phonetic entities stretching out like tentacles to reach new corners of pronunciation
Words like
Bibliophile and flippant-irreverence
Evanescent and Insouciance
Mellifluous and Effervescent
Mondegreen and Labyrinthine
Words like
Onomatopoeia and Tintinnabulation
I appreciate their weight on my tongue
The way my hands appreciate the thickness that is a fat book
I am a Woman of Many Words
I am attracted to their multitude
The space their figures take up on a page
The calligraphic punches
Typed up by keys
The carefully constructed
Brush strokes
Spouting
What is sure to be, nonsense
But I do enjoy the sound of nonsense in the morning
I am a Woman of Many Words
I cling to the lettered skyscrapers wherever I can find them
Because the familiar scent of scribbles across parchment is comfort food for me
I find them
On the backs of cereal boxes
And in Popsicle riddles
In fortune cookies
And alphabet soup
From magnets on my fridge
To junk food logos
And I hold on to them for dear life
For fear that silence should find me
And leave me empty
For fear it will take away the music of maracas
Made by words
Dancing the salsa inside me
I am a Woman of Many Words
because Words
Answer my Questions,
Soothe my fears,
and Humor my Whims
They are not always Right
But they are always Constant
They are not always Honest, in fact,
Mostly
They Lie
But ever so often
They tell such a Beautiful Lie
That you wish it were true
They sing from the rocks
offering Escape from
Terrifying,
Suffocating,
Mind numbing Silence
that echoes off my skeleton
I am afraid that silence will hollow out my insides
and leave me abandoned
with nothing between my Bow and Stern
my Forecastle all torn up
I am afraid of the skeleton inside me
So I am a Woman of Many of Words
For fear of silence
And contempt for truth
Because my words are sirens
And my shipwreck is home here
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 5:12 PM UTC
Out of the loop de loop into the swirl of hoopla hoop
Transfer into the oasis of illusion, awaiting the water boat
Fall over the bolder dropped from your shoulder
Rolling and gathering moss, scraping off the parasites
Bowling the ball down the aisle into the skittle alley
Knocking down those fellows who denounce you
Don't hear you, read through your eyes to the back of
Your head and beyond, into their own ace of space
Rolling around the ground belly aching their sound
Machine, mean warriors of gloom, for soon they'll fall
Short of time to relish their pleasure boat, punting along
Paddling their pedalo into the grey below, capsizing
Forlorn arms stretching out to capture, only trickery
Bickering, as you fall through the gaps and rake your ratted
Soul with grit between teeth, spit, of solemn men who
Give out black track thoughts for you to devour.....
Finality bleats, gongs the looming song....the hour, fatal shower
Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 6:06 AM UTC
There is something stirring in the hardwood,
the color of stained honey, suffocating
under Skittle-colored plastic bins bulging
with the weight of laundry, fishing lures, mildewed books.
I follow the small pathways into each room of my father’s
apartment, just big enough for a unicycle—tributaries
of wood lathe where yesterday he was eating oranges
and reading Popular Science before folding
himself into the mattress for the last time.
The tiny ridges of floorboards were once
smoother than good whiskey. The rippling
water in each knot is the story
of what it is to grow. Trees grow branches like mothers
grow babies and all end up here, on the floor
together. I look for the veins
in these mounds of ***** dishes
and towers of magazines, some sign
of movement. We are all being held, kept
from what’s been running beneath us.
I want to scale the piles of shut-in relics,
climb into old age and never again
think about the wet hourglass
of snow tracked in from both doors
that kept us from collapsing
in exhaustion with our inheritance.
Feb 3, 2012
Feb 3, 2012 at 9:23 PM UTC
Human ****
human ****
Avarice
Get that ****
Out of my dish
How many species
Do you wish
Extinct by Swedish overfish
Are you so fond of licorice?
Like cavities on Halloween
You rot away my clenching teeth
Spoiled children trick or treat
So concerned with what to eat
While glaciers melt like Hershey bars
In Hot Tamale heat
As oceans rise
You feast blind eyes
And licorice blackens the skies
Making my blood pressure high
Unwrapping one more Smartie
Just to find an Air-Head Spree
And now I'm left here questioning
My ***** Wonka sanity
For thinking I could save these kids
From Candy Land's of apathy
Stuck on selfish sticky squares
Lord Licorice tormenting me
With sugar-coated ignorance
Preferred over
The sour patch
Of truth too bitter for their lips
Starbursting, Milky Way abyss
Warheads warping face and time
Mere rainbows to your skittle bliss
The end of mine? No sweets to find
You've left me only licorice
Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 12:05 AM UTC
Look at myself, running in circles.
I make myself sick so i can feel better.
the Coffee i pour down my throat
is.
the Caffeine that runs in my veins.
the Skittle i gnash between my teeth
is.
the Sugar that makes up my brain.
The Pretzel i crunch down upon
is.
the Salt that weighs me down.
The Sleep i force myself from
is.
the Conscious i like to lack.
the Craving i manage to endure
is.
the Incarceration of my mind.
Look at myself, running in circles.
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 3:08 AM UTC
You
There are eyes that are more captivating, but your eyes have got those specks and freckles in it that come with being you. There are lips prettier than yours, but they don’t have the same attractive person behind it, the same rough voice or the cute dimples.
There are girls who would hear a louder heartbeat whenever someone looks at them. But when you look at me, there are drums in my heart when your eyes meet mine. And trust me, I don’t hear drums a lot. There are words that could probably describe better how you play with my heartstrings. Words that describe how you are the thunderstorm I get stuck in and hit by lightning just because you touch me in the tiniest way. A lignting bolt that travels through me with the light of speed and causes my heart to
jump up, drop dead and jump again
You are the falling snow I hate to walk through but love to play in.
There are words that describe you much better than mine, though, because I don’t do you any justice.
To me you are bubbles, laughter, my friends all in one room, someone blowing smoke rings and swallows in the sky. You are like my cup of coffee in the morning: the first thing I want to see. You are the voice that softly wakes me up instead of the shrill alarm clock. You are that feeling I get when I doze and realize I'm are halfway into sleep. You are the soothing warmth coming over me when I’m panicked and they tell me it’s going to be okay.
You are my dance and my groove, you are the bass that makes my ribcage move to your beat. You are the sunlight on a day it’s been pouring. You are the yellow car between all the black ones. You are the black and whites I see and all the different colors you paint my views. You are like that one red skittle that I want when there’s none leftover.
But I don’t mind.
I don’t mind at all.
Mar 1, 2012
Mar 1, 2012 at 9:47 PM UTC
I watch the
sea breathe
from the deck of the ship
indigo ribbons
skittle across the ocean's
vast billowing blue breast
the wind breathes too
in fact, everything is breathing
one mighty breath
inhaling and exhaling me, the ship and this whole
luminous creation
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 12:18 AM UTC
Fought your case, hit the base now rage till you lose your face!
I'm space, you're space, we're all lost to the last drop and there is no reason for the pinball tournament to stop
We'll keep the cogs turnin till the babies stop shaking
I'm outside trying to rattle sheep while hurds are swarming in from sleep
My brothers coping with a lost coin toss and cigarette burns between his toes
All the mean while no one noticed some cats crept in and stole all our gold
I'll fold to hold it
Forgetting every milasecond I kept waisting my ability to forge sworn favors and excellent sense of humor for slackers and loose birds
Floating over broken bones bein stoked makin sure we're lettin the fires burn
Puttin the ashes in a modest recepticle and lay beneath the flowers
Layin in the lye for hours waitin to breakdown the spectacle of lights and superpowers
If I knew the purpose of the game
I probably wouldn't play
If I knew how to make money
I probably wouldn't want it
If knew how to not pop tires
My *** probably stop getting fired
But I'm tired and can't have half a nights rest for every moment is spent trekking on misguided intent with good motives in my head
I help the dead find their place in the middle coaching along singing the song all on the fiddle like that little ****** the riddle you bet your last skittle for a cup of brain sizzle
And I never said this was the best but my arrogance has you suckas restting in heck
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 4:36 AM UTC
Covered from head to toe.
A layer of sweat covered my face.
A pocket of space allowing me to breath a little
I'd been Knocked down like a skittle.
Rocked to the core by the blanket of lies you weaved.
Eventually relieved you jumped again which was your style treating love like a career path.
Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 3:45 PM UTC
Those looks swallowed me at first glance,
the language of you lips spoke fluent truth ,
with a heart that pumped genuine love,
that shot arrows only cupids could shoot,
I'm so in Love..
Those hands feed charity,
you're so selfless but so selfish when you hold me,
And distance is not distant enough.
To gap us apart from closely,
I'm so in Love..
Your beautiful smile is wide enough ,
it curves up skittle'd rainbows,
that tornado away the smokey clouds,
and turn darkness into halos,
I'm so in Love..
The understanding within your frame of mind,
we turn our pains in to bloopers,
So I picked your Nose full of senses of humor,
that smell like the laugh we'll have throughout our future,
I'm so in love...
With your beliefs and ideologies,
with desires to swim upstream,
That ambition is built in flawlessly,
enough to help encourage my dream.
I'm so In Love..
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 12:47 AM UTC
rainbow buttons trickle down your back,
perfectly aligned along your spine,
and you darken as I go deeper
you fade from bright yellow,
bright orange, florescent green
to deep, burning red as you
move closer to me
everything more numb than it's ever been,
but amplified as hot and cold take turns
washing over my arms and eyelids
I don't recall where our clothes went or when they did,
or what day of the week it is,
but I do know what happens when I run
my finger tips up your back and back down
you melt into my arms and then between
my thighs and I
never
want you to leave
and for a moment I understand addiction,
for two moments I dwell on it as I watch the
ceiling fold into itself over and over, infinitely
and then it's back to your eyes
reminding myself not to apologize
for the seeming eternity I wasn't looking at you
because it was only a second or two
... only a second or two, right?
sure, move on
move to your hand all of a sudden around my throat
I fly further into space the tighter your grip becomes
and next thing I know I'm sternly being reminded
to breathe
because surely, I would have forgotten
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 6:13 PM UTC
"little bird, little bird
why don't you run"
(said the orange cat as big as the sun)
"little bird, little bird
you don't cheap a bit"
(said the orange cat stalking closer than close)
"little bird, little bird
why do you dance
and skittle so?"
(said the orange cat raising a clawed paw)
little bird
looked the cat straight in the eye
"lean closer cat to hear my
words as I am too weak with despair
if my wings were not clipped, unfairly
I would far away fly, but you
were so entranced
with me, I forgot
to introduce
my friend
the dog!"
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 9:59 PM UTC
im in a pack of skittles
im a little black skittle
in a rainbow pack.
all my friends are various different colors;
blue,
red,
green,
yellow.
and it makes me really sad,
when some of my favorite skittles,
begin to spoil.
they turn into a weird camo color.
it's ugly.
and even though, i, myself, am a black skittle,
i want to watch the other skittles cluster together and form a rainbow.
Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 5:14 AM UTC
Hi! My name is --
Armpit fat hanging out from the strangulation of my push up bra,
Unlovely love handles poorly clothed by leggings waistband,
A zebra-striped, stretch-marked ***
Shoulder-length, untamed mane resting on weightlifter traps,
Snub nose on a face as circular and flat as a waiter’s tray,
Except for the hilly scar on the tip of my snout,
Eye bags of a zombie risen from the bed,
Juicy, voluminous, red Skittle zits,
Accompanied by a mole like Marilyn’s
(But this one ain’t so ****
Four foot eleven and a half plus high heel calluses,
-- Katie for short.
But despite what I’m called,
Maybe we can get to know each other
A little better?
Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 2:49 PM UTC
Pentagon waist
on a bloom of skates
a shepherd tallies his day
Oct 14, 2020
Oct 14, 2020 at 5:00 AM UTC
empty eyes and little lies
i used to know your name
little talks and skittle walks
i hate these kind of games
savannah's dead it's in my head
maybe i'm to blame
Aug 14, 2016
Aug 14, 2016 at 12:44 AM UTC
Gentle susurration of the gathered
Moving aimlessly in patterns of fantastic
Symmetry that no one planned.
Music in the silence between breaths
That energizes inner computations
Of the reasons for assembling.
Unexpected rustling of wings
Fantasizes outlines in the air
Creating something very like a blackboard
Waiting for explosions to appear.
Whereby the peacock fans its tail
And turns it to the flock of doves.
Voicing cries of strident self esteem,
The proud bird struts and preens
Which terrifies the doves who turn away
And skittle into corners
With their feathers all tucked in,
Forming cautious circles in the maelstrom.
ljm
May 4, 2022
May 4, 2022 at 10:13 AM UTC
Why has no-one ever felt me?
Am I a plague?
Won’t anyone say?
It really hasn’t dried up
That well to make the ocean
Look like a puddle
Am I lost in the lie?
Is it pride?
Is that what you’d like to hear?
Did I finally go mad
Out of reach
Made it to the top of the mountain
Upon which to preach?
Why has no-one ever felt me?
Or is that stuff
Just make believe?
Am I too much?
Am I too little?
An atom in a universe
Multi-coloured skittle
To be honest
I know as much as you do
As to why
No-one has ever felt me
Jan 31, 2025
Jan 31, 2025 at 6:12 AM UTC