"ees" poems
em nwohs evah uoy tahw ees I~I see what you have shown me
delaever sah noitiutni ym tahw ees I~I see what my intuition has revealed
gnilriws ssendas dna epoh ees I~I see hope and sadness swirling
tnetni dna esoprup a ees I~I see a purpose and intent
noissap degac a ees I~I see a caged passion
traeh a ees I~I see a heart
gnipeeW~Weeping
sdnah ruoy ees I~I see your hands
gnihcaeR~Reaching
seye ruoy ees I~I see your eyes
gnihcaeT~Teaching
ylfnogard ees I~I see dragonfly
?elihwa syats ohW~Who stays awhile?
ffo stilf dnA~And flits off
nruter ot ylnO~Only to return
efas s’ti swonk eh nehW~When he knows it’s safe
yats oT~To stay.
traeh ruoy ees I~I see your heart.
gnos ruoy raeh I~I hear your song.
thgilf ruoy leef I~I feel your flight.
ecaps ruoy hcuot I~I touch your space
ecaf ruoy ees I~I see your face.
uoy ees I~I see you.
uoY~You.
Jul 11, 2011
Jul 11, 2011 at 5:19 PM UTC
they said they did it for efficiency's sake.
birthed machine after machine,
just to increase the rate
per
time.
no god-given talent or skill,
can defeat this adaptive assembly line.
no man- P
no fire- O
no brain- W
no super- E
no will- R
it's flawless at first glance, and maybe even second.
simply perfect to the naked eye; even the telescoped, i reckon.
but under a microscope, it becomes simple to see,
this single-purposed way of life isn't human; how can it be?
just like control + C, control + V,
i believe they've synchronized simplicity.
believe they've synchronized simplicity.
they've synchronized simplicity.
synchronized simplicity.
simplicity.
.
.yticilpmis
.yticilpmis dezinorhcnys
.yticilpmis dezinorhcnys ev'yeht
.yticilpmis dezinorhcnys ev'yeht eveileb
.yticilpmis dezinorhcnys ev'yeht eveileb i
,V + lortnoc ,C + lortnoc ekil tsuj
?eb ti nac woh ;namuh t’nsi efil fo yaw desoprup-elgnis siht
,ees ot elpmis semoceb ti .epocsorcim a rednu tub
.nokcer i ,depocselet eht neve ;eye dekan eht ot tcefrep ylpmis
.dnoces neve ebyam dna ,ecnalg tsrif ta sselwalf s’ti
R -lliw on
E -repus on
W -niarb on
O -erif on
P -nam on
.enil ylbmessa evitpada siht taefed nac
,lliks ro tnelat nevig-dog on
.emit
rep
etar eht esaercni ot tsuj
,enihcam retfa enihcam dehtrib
.ekas s’ycneiciffe rof ti did yeht dias yeht
Aug 6, 2011
Aug 6, 2011 at 10:15 PM UTC
When you see me
You see a peaceful joyful soul
When you see me
You see smiles and happiness
When you see me
You see a strong cheerful young man
When you see me
Yon don't see me like I see me
rorrim gnikool a otni kool I nehW
niap hguorht neeb esohw yob a ees I
rorrim gnikool a onti kool I nehW
ytitnedi on sah ohw nam gnuoy a ees I
rorrim gnikool a onti kool I nehW
eb ll'I yas elpoep nam eht ees t'nod I
rorrim gnikool a onti kool I nehW
erutuf on htiw eruliaf a ees I
When you see me
You don't see the real vulnerable
Me.
Dec 11, 2011
Dec 11, 2011 at 5:56 PM UTC
Ooo! Wee!
Ya got it on my armpit and hair
from my belly, I think you sings it from an egg
the push and pull, the truth and dare
rain-bead pearled in cloudlight bed
was it something I said? Or touched?
All my ex liked to talk about is ***
and wild intricacies like wow, buddy
I'm right here kinda spunky and funny
but his receptacle and receptacle-ees
aren't that interesting to me
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 8:16 PM UTC
Got silken silver scratches etched deep into my ring,
their lascivious lines lick up and down like an ecg
they match the beat of my heart when with kisses i am carefree
It says surrendered but it's a constant act of surrendering
I twirl it in circles
I realize it is not a shackle
I realize that it is protection
That in its silver and ebony reflection
I see a more beautiful picture of the future of this thing
That where the esses sliver into scratches of black at their edges
i trace my faith, my face with my eyes in introspection
and where the three ees travel in between the other letters on the ring
there on the surface, its purpose is surfacing
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 2:12 AM UTC
these thoughts are skittering katy-didn'ts
seizing and disjointed like twitchy smother-ees
sometimes i look at death despairingly
as a vacation i can't afford.
i only write poems to practice my prose
so i have fifteen minutes to write this down
and i can't hear anything with the bells in my ears
clinking together like our silver tongues.
march never seems real year after year
even when i explored your tan lines
while the upside-down sun scorched my hair
and we measured the various states of abandon.
i'm never as morose around other people
as i wish i could be, sincerely.
they are a mirror to remind me, cruelly,
that i am a sentient meatbag.
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 3:39 PM UTC
I can be anyone you want,
darling,
I can shift, I can bend,
I can—
I can break.
Oh, I can break.
But right now—
right now—
right now I need to be your lover.
Not a stranger,
not a shadow,
not a
MAYBE ONE DAY…
I need to be the breath in your lungs,
the static under your skin,
the ache in your bones when you wake up too fast and swear you felt me there.
I was…
But time is a cruel, slow god
and patience is a cage with rusted bars
and I
I
I
am losing myself inside it.
I can see it.
I can see
US
Not in fragments, not in fleeting dreams,
not in—
SOMEDAY
But in a life with walls and windows and hands that don’t let go.
In a world where waiting is over and we don’t bleed for time anymore.
Where I am yours without a clock between us.
But not yet…
NOT YET
Not yet, so I stay.
Not yet, so I hold.
Not yet, so I swallow
the madness and let it simmer in my gut
until it kills me from the inside out.
I do not know how to be patient when the future already belongs to me.
I do not know how to be sane when you exist in a time I cannot touch.
I do not know how to be whole when half of me is waiting for you.
My hands shake when I write your name.
My thoughts slip like loose threads,
unraveling,
twisting,
spelling things backwards—
See?
Se?
Ees?
But they all mean the same thing.
I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you
and you are not even mine yet.
Yet.
Yet.
YET..
I can be anyone you want, darling,
I can wait, I can hold, I can burn,
I can wear patience like a noose and call it devotion,
I can
I can
I can
BUT IT HURTS…
God, it hurts.
But you are worth every second
Mar 22, 2025
Mar 22, 2025 at 12:25 PM UTC
RECORD: PARANOID ANDROID
FROGMAN: RADIO HEAD
BEGIN INNERMISSION 1
Frogman of enormous Brisingierdth
(on my mind sHe holds OUR hearth):
Try to imagine minds without throughtkeeping.
you probably can't.
you think you know the intro,
the conclusion,
the thought of the body and mind.
yet all inside you,
throughtkeeping is instinct.
Brads are not late.
a Janet does not check her selfse.
machines do wrinkle rememberances.
WhoMans alone measure throught.
WhoMans alone chime panic.
And because of this.
WhoMans alone suffer a paralyzing Miracle that no other creature can cure.
The Miracle
of throught running out...
END TRANSMISSION 1
Riff Raff: Hello.
Brad: Hi!
My name is Brad Major Threes, and this is my fiancée, Janet Twice One.
I wonder if you'd mind helping us.
You see, our brain broke down a few moments up the road.
Do you have an ear we might fill?
Riff Raff: You're wet.
Janet: Yes, it's crainving.
Brad: Yes.
Riff Raff: Yes!... I think perhaps you better both com-e inside.
Tic .
Tic .
Tic .
DING!
Janet: You're too kind.
Oh, Brad, I'm frightened.
What kind of future is this?
Brad: Oh,
it's probably some kinda way-outta heare for real wyrdos.
Janet: Oh.
Riff Raff: This way-out.
Janet: Are you forgetting The Parties?
Riff Raff: You've arrived on a rather special wrighte.
It's one of the Chaster's afflairs.
Janet: Oh,
plucky shim.
Magenta: You're plucky,
he's plucky,
I'm plucky,
we're all plucked-ees! Ha haa haaa!!!
STOP: TURN THOUGHT
Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 12:08 PM UTC
Is it the Love,
That fallows your heart,
Or is it the love that fallows your “head”.
Is it the Injustice,
That rules over the justice system,
That we have confidence in.
Is it the Fees,
That we pay,
For everything we do or say.
Is it the Energy,
That you put out to change the world,
In which you live.
LIFE is none of the above,
It is the study of who you are,
Who you want to be,
And what you have become,
In the time you have left on earth.
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 8:06 PM UTC
*In my most quiet of moments
I stir my heart.
The mixture it generates swells
Throughout my extremities coalescing
In this page, another finger painted start.
It contradicts that which is allways of mind.
It conjures up something yet defined.
Splattered words on the kettle’s crest
They fill the void with more or less.
Tinkering on a balance beam,
The right words jostle to be redeemed.
I could say they were me – my own gentle art -
But are they? Or are they just mine to take the part?
For they come from where I cannot see
And sometimes they go to where I cannot be.
They drive me around in an uncovered plea
Straight up to the heart of me.
Yet it is here in these pages that I belong
Found between the lines – how could I be wrong?
If I were to dismantle my heart here before your eyes
Would you understand its dissected replies?
I think I surely would if I thought that you could
Trace the lines inside of me – all the way to understood.
In this one place I take leave of myself
Pulling out everything from off the shelf.
Scattered on the floor – oh what is left?
With my hand I pick up another piece of myself.
Placing it here, covertly from right to left.
Could you ever know of such a scattered line?
If you could it would be the real me defined.
Yes, in my most quiet of moments
I stir my heart.
In the mix it regenerates me -
The real me -*
eeS oT uoY roF
May 31, 2017
May 31, 2017 at 4:16 PM UTC
A short little man from Quebec
Had a toothache and went for a check.
When he wanted to know
Why the tooth had to go,
He was told, "Ees Toulouse, Lautrec."
Dec 3, 2016
Dec 3, 2016 at 4:01 PM UTC
uoy nehW
nwo ruoy ni gnihcraes flesruoy dnif
,ssalg gnikool
.flesruoy ees yllaer t'nod uoy
Dec 29, 2017
Dec 29, 2017 at 9:59 AM UTC
give me enough money in this world
to travel to at least one of these
three destinations... to die...
for the calming climate of the cold...
far away from any Arab influences...
to at least one...
Færeyjar...
Ísland... ees-land...
eða Grænland...
none of this English cosmopolitanism...
globalism...
nei amerískt geo-pólitík!
lifa hér lifa stór!
af lif það er: allt...
og dauða og þögn og skuggar...
plenty of F's...
come to think of it...
apostrophes and surds...
notably?
psi... sigh...
although... that's extending
the iota by omitting
both giggle
and ha ha ha...
Jun 17, 2022
Jun 17, 2022 at 6:36 PM UTC