"ess" poems
wants to be my friend, for I am poet-woman nineteen.
she is sweet but sad. super sad.
a good poet who wants to guide me.
but there/theirs is the odor, not faint, of wants wanting,
the pus of corruption behind the curtains,
the Wizard-ess of Oz's
special blackout curtains.
seen how easy, how her illusions,
my medium rare rejections,
morph into her delusions,
and her delusions devolve into
her conspiracy theories.
"SHE will be my mentor, poetess lover, teacher for no charge!"
my parents thinks it's great, she wants (to be) skin in my game.
my parents will find this poem accidentally, exactly,
how I do not want
to be skinned alive.
for I am poet-woman nineteen and still! now, long past
the point of being fooled, the point of no return.
and see no point,
have no intention,
of returning to either valley
***no more con the my mind into letting my body
be-fused.^***
that ain't me babe.
Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 2:54 PM UTC
Kabhe pucha hay apnay app say kay tumnay kitnay waday torhay hein?
kabhe pucha hay apnay app say kay kitnay logouin ka dill tora hay?
kabhe pucha hay apnay app say kay tumnay apne eik nazar say kis kis ko apne he
nazrouin mein gerayya hay?
- nae pucha nah? kese din pucho gay nah tou mrnay ka dill chahy ga, zindage kay
naam say chirnay lago gay.
Kabhe pucha hay kay tum Zindage kay naam per eik beyqaar zindage jee rahay
hou? aur phir kehthy hou ''yaar kya krien zindage he esse hay''. Kabhe Zindagi
ke kitaab ko khol kr tou dekho kya kya rakha hay uiss mein. Zindage bahot he
haseen hay sirf hum masroof hein apne duniya mein wou duniya jis mein kuch
nahe sawaye humaray. Ajj loug dusrouin ke mintein krtay hein kay ''ruk jau''
''na jau'' jb kay mery khayaal mein ye loug bhul chukay hein kay '' jis ko jana hay
uis ko jana hay chahy tum apne jaan kyun na deh dou''. Ajj tou logouin ke
zindage andhere hojaate heh jab koe uinka ''dost'' ya ''yaar'' chor jaye aur wo uis
khuda ko bhool jaatay hein jis nay uis ko usse ''dost'' ya ''yaar'' say milaya tha.
Hum loug tou apnay Khuda ko bhe bhul chukay hein. Wo Khuda jis kay pass
humnay waapis jana hay wo Khuda jis kay bagheir humare koe ukaat nae.
Barhay Unchay gharouin mein reh reh kr apnay app ko Khudha samjhna shuru krdeya hay humnay.
Ess zamaanay mein koe kese ka Dost nae hota barha Dost Dost krtay hou na jab doob rahay hou gay
kudhe dekhna kay sab DOST tamasha dekh rahay hogein aur tum zindage ke tarf aanay ke bher-poor
koshishein kr rahay hou gay, tab apnay app say puchna kay ye wo DOST thay jin kay leye tum apnay
maa-baap say laray? uin kay samnay uncha bolay? sharmindage hoi? Ajj hum itnay ''self-obssessd''
hein kay dusrouin ko dekh kay lagta hay chunte jitni ukaat hay uiss ke. Hum apne he Duniya mein
bahot dur nikal aayein hein, asal duniya say bekhabar, asal dostouin say hum la-taluq ** chukay hein.
Hum ajj apnay app mein he kho chukay hein. Apnay rab ko humnay kho deya. Rab ko kho deya matlab
Sub kuch kho deya ! tou abb hamaray pass koe raasta hay?
-Haan wou rab 5 martaba bulaata hay tumhein apne taraf, jau uiss ke taraf aur apne ASAL ZINDAGE
ke taraf waapse aou.
Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 10:00 AM UTC
Man becomes woman woman becomes man
headline dictation that makes you understand
but what's this? The scene goes beyond extremes,
the black/white photograph is of color underneath.
But **** me, I'm being erratic. I'm standing on tables
shouting so your disdain's automatic. What's up with
this new fad? Uhmurika never had it this bad. We have
a literal metric ton of whining millennials wanting to be
special snowflakes. Man, who could take all of this social
pressure? Being held accountable for a miserable, literal lack
of knowledge about the world around us? Man, definitely not
for me. But seriously, bro, did you get your **** cut off? What's
up bro, **** you get your **** sewn on? That ******* ***** lacks
a ****** That motha ***** lacks the design that gives him a similar
package when his blood pressure rises. Don't talk to me about feelings
before you've had the operation -- because before you've done that step
it's better if you don't implore my empathy or patience because you're
just not real, I won't feel the weight of your complaints and frustrations.
Matter of fact, for you, ess jay dub, my emotional core's on vacation.
Leave me alone with your dialogue.
Discourse is not for me.
Leave me alone with your dialogue.
How do you prefer to ***
Is it this hard to admit to your audience there's something else outside
yourself? I can see how defining the lines with alacrity makes it easier
to breathe the air you breathe to stay alive. It must be nice to stand tall
and be you and not have to bray declarations of self to stay confident
and true to the compass. Walking is all it ever takes you yet when I say,
"Actually [...]" it's enough to make you think it's me getting in your face
with another liberal lecture, but I'm just keeping real straightforward
about which terms I prefer in our vernacular. Shut up, you **** up, we
advocate for your finish, only requiring you fit into our premise.
Leave me alone with your dialogue.
Discourse is just not for me.
Leave me alone with your dialogue.
How do you prefer to ***
I just think it's best to have some canned material
in case you need it.
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 1:52 AM UTC
Aaj achanak hi kyu azadi k din hume apne mulk ki itni yaad aayi
Jb kurbaan hue jawan sarhad pe,tb kyu nhi aankho me nami aayi
Zara dil se b izzat kr lo mere yaaro, kyuki ye zameen h hum sabki
Kuch nahi le jao ge sath apne, milni h ess me hi raakh hum sabki
Koi loot raha h gareeb ki jaeb, koi kr raha h bezuba awaam se faraeb
Umeed h kashmir me aman hoga,toh aur b meethe hoge waha k saeb
Jo saha h dard in kisaano ne, umeed h unka ye dard tumhe b mehsoos **
Daer raat in anderi galliyo se guzrti har beti har maa ki raah mehfooz **
Mazboot kr lo apne rishto ko,inpe h nigah kbhi mazhab ki kbhi siyasat ki
Na rang se pehchan ** na hi adoore ang se,ek si taraki ** har ek riyasat ki
Rishwat gareebi khudgarzi aur na jaane kitne h es mulk ko lge marz
Kbhi fursat hui toh janne ki koshish krna kitne h es maa k tumpe karz
Har bache ko ilm ** es janoon ka,taki ye kamyaabi k kadam ruk na paye
Bss ik ehsaan krna khud pe,ki teri kisi harqat se kehi iska ser juk na jaye
Dhua bss yehi h ki aane wali koi b nasal kabhi na ruksat ** es fitoor se
Chand taaro pe chle b gye agr phir b krte rehna sada salam waha door se
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 11:57 PM UTC
The heart, mired in the thick black sauce
Beats less for love but rapid with deceit
A craggy instrument that lacks the elegance,
Of the newborn
Awakened each day to seek new meat
To ****** upon and ensnare
Her waking and ending thoughts
Seek to tarnish the golden rule
Mrs. Ess, you are a sight to sea, and see, and si
The hair on the hairless, rise to heaven
While those of us in your presence
Seek a shadow to hide and peek not
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 8:37 AM UTC
When I met you, I was on magic mushrooms.
or maybe I wasn't.
but either way, the moment we made eye contact things began to swirl-
and the world became candy-colored.
things are grey now.
Aug 23, 2021
Aug 23, 2021 at 12:04 AM UTC
They were so not interested when the brother was so very available
Lonely even and longing to be needed longing to be loved it
Didn’t seem like it cuz he could be so very surly but desperately longing
To laugh out loud and secretly longing to dance to no music but that which
was in his lover’s heart but they would have had to but didn’t care to
dig under the bravado or be lurking behind the door to his otherwise
empty sanctuary when he locked out the needy and narcissistic and
peeled the ess offa his chest before hanging his all-purpose multi tool belt
on the all-purpose multi tool belt nail and became
merely his naked self to see that what he truly had to offer could
not be built or repaired or paid for or driven or
traded for the promise of some ***** which he would have settled for in
lieu of real companionship cuz that’s all people seem to be about these days and
*** is easy and love is hard and therefore a fella could hardly hope
for something that songs are written about and hope deferred
is unpretty at best and ****** tragic at worst so imagine
their surprise when one day he walked in with his large workman’s hand wrapped
around a smaller softer hand and he was suddenly not so surly maybe joyful even
and they wondered how they didn’t notice how **** he is and they
asked themselves did he grow two inches cuz he sure seems taller and
they don’t understand when he no longer comes just cuz they call and they find
that for some reason they hate that ***** that he is with and she ain’t so cute
so why is he not noticing how he is now coveted or catching the
obvious and disrespectfully thrown hint… and
in their selfishness would see him unhappy before seeing him
with her before seeing him not sniffing around them
trying and hoping to be noticed and their arrogance
dictates to them that he is not unavailable… not truly… that she is just a
passing whim and their ignorance whispers to them that he has forgotten
how not so long ago and for years and years
they were so not interested
…now ain’t that somethin
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 10:03 AM UTC
.
faithless
faithless faithle
faithless faithless
faithless faith less
faithless faithles
s faithless faithl
ess faithless fait
hless faithless f
aithless faithles
s faithless faith
less faithless fa
ithless faithless
faithless faithle
faithless faithle
faithless faithless
faithless fai thlessfaith
faithless faith less faithless
faithless fai thless faith
faithless faithless
Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 2:14 PM UTC
To meet another human in the places that you go
you have be a seeker of the things you want to know
And not just in a way that makes it easy to have been
but so much more connected to the souls inside your skin
'Cause even if you shatter like a clay that enters heat
there cannot be a ****** lest you dare admit defeat
So wait beside the doors that mark the exit you have sought
and let yourself remember why you walked into your thought
The answer could be simple in a complicated way
but you will never see it if you make the choice to stay
I wanted you to speak without the fear of holding on
without believing you are but a shadow of a song
For that can be a mess that you intentionally made
to prove you aren't here because of something you can say
Forget we have the limits we ourselves create and ****
the passion you've been chasing could be living in you still
May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 9:56 PM UTC
numbness to pain does not make it
non existent
floating imaginations do not make them
unreal
(h)arsh reality does not make it
fiction
big dreams do not me(a)n they're
unattainable
high ho(p)es do not mean you're
delusional
sadness does not mean
depress(i)on
happi(n)ess doesn't have to mean you're
bipolar
wanting more do(e)sn't make you
ungrateful
and all these words that (s)ociety uses against you
to make you feel
weak
unaccepted
vulnerable
&
broken
di(s)card them.
all you need,
to be happy
is positivity
this is my promise to you.
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 12:10 PM UTC
In his address to Congress,
The Donald brazenly
revealed plans to spread fear through
a brand new agency.
It will report and list all crimes
by each new immigrant,
to heighten paranoia's spread
amongst the ignorant.
By fanning fiery flames of fear,
the bigots shall rejoice,
and they shall love the agency
that Trump is naming "VOICE".
Victims
Of
Immigration
Crime
Engagement
Now, I propose an agency
to give another choice,
that balances the propaganda
to be spread by VOICE...
An agency that recognizes
Donald's vile role
as chief hatemonger of the world.
It shall be named, *****
American
Sociopathic
Shooters
Harming
Others
Less
Entitled
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 6:54 PM UTC
My best memories are not with her,
And I will forever remember them,
The reason I built my imagination,
Till my childhood was there to stay,
Enjoying the imaginary car crashes,
Less than an ambition it was never.
How clearly I remember myself,
Often playing with glistening toys,
They were mostly cars and tracks,
When my mind drove 'em like an elf,
Healing my loneliness with their jumps,
Eyes glittering with the picturization,
Ears hearing the imaginary blasts,
Love was simple & objective then,
Seemed the best life to a kid me.
May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 4:27 AM UTC
i like the typ<e tha?t's
dif}feren\t th=an
me in every way and
**fo ^rm ** (it'll h_]urt
le.ss if th-ey hu"rt me
'cause:: i know *if that
were m'e//, i neve:/r w
ould'a done it) ,*
i like the type that'll
always make me la**ug
h ev**%en whe^n i can't
bre##athe (even tho*ugh
it'd burn and const*rict,
that, righ**t the+re, wo[u
ld be h ea v)en).
i like the typ*e that won't ob
se_ss over me as i obs@ess
ov$er the m;(wouldn't wann
a put 'em through that kinda
m is e r ,y.)
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 12:22 AM UTC
In{peace}ner
Yet again, I a(struggling)m to sleep,
Yearning for m(soul)y to keep.
Day by pa(day)ss with no remorse.
Death scouring the lands on his tire(horse)less.
There was Mar(First)cos,
There was Ka(Then)in.
De(coming)ath is for all of us,
As morale beg(wane)ins to.
Shots are fired in hot spu(sporadic)rts,
du(I)ck for cover as my shoulder hurts.
Blood flo(down)ws my arm as I grasp my gun,
I close my eyes as my comr(run)ades begin to.
I am paralyzed, planted in the ea(bunkered)rth,
My comrades car(me)ry as they flee.
I fig(sanity)ht, refusing to see my own worth,
As bullets fly by, in an endl(torrent)ess of maniacal glee.
The pain sears, racing through mi(my)nd.
Muscles, tissue, bone, to unw(beginning)ind.
Con(crosses)cern my comrade’s face,
As he looks at my pai(disgrace)ned.
Earth spews the gro(from)und to my right,
Launching us into the thick fum(air)ed.
I scream again as my pa(rears)in its roaring might.
My vis(fading)ion as my body lands on my earthen lair.
whi(Death’s)sper then did creep,
His bre(cold)ath in did seep.
I no pa(feel)in as I know its time,
To join m(mates)y, out here on the Rhine.
May 7, 2012
May 7, 2012 at 8:44 PM UTC
trUe love
conteNtment
peaCe
indEpendence
otherRs
commiTment
my plAce
lIfe
happiNess
faiTh
mYself
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 3:51 AM UTC
Some poets are way better than the majority,
Yet they are down-to-earth and connected,
Less they care about others' opinions,
Kindness is replete in them,
Injuring no hearts in
Era of love.
Jan 7, 2017
Jan 7, 2017 at 11:13 PM UTC
Pay attention!
rap rap
said the big fat bus,
with the big fat bootay.
i say
i have something
to say
to you!
a wee bit of advice to you
you so sweet
young lasses
out and about
on hot summer nights
in camaros
and vans
and pintos
and mustangs.
and mom's
station wagon's.
# 1
when that eager
young lad's hands
are a crawlin' all over
you.
yes YOU missy,
your sweet nubile
young territory,
the time will come
when you shall
want all these
shennanigans to
STOP!
so i give to thee
some wee
words of advice.
#2
Be firm with your delivery.
Do not waver.
Strong even voice,
increase volume if
necessary.
to the
Kind sir,
the,
young lad..
say!
i do not beg you,
i command thee ...
be sure to understand!
keep those roving
hands to thyself.
for you can
rest assured,
this playground is closed!
this is a no nookey zone!
#3
blue *****
you claim,
they are a ailing you?
for you i give
this sound advice,
say!
introduce yourself
to your right hand,
and ifn' you be a wantin'
a menage eh of three,
invite
your,
left hand
to
come along!
#4
Be firm and be sure,
you are sitting on
a sacred fortune of gold,
don't let them
miners be gropin'
around,
be a gropin'
you.
it is only for you
to sacredly unfold
your divine
femininin-ess.
if you want to do it,
do it...
but search your heart long before you do.
at least think you are in love
before taking the plunge.
first loves are sweet
and last long
in hidden recesses of
mysterious minds.
take your time,
30 and more,
is the age
we big fat busses
with big fat yellow bootays
come into our own.
no rush.
nowhere to go.
all the time in the world to get there.
there is,
i assure you,
no rush.
Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 10:56 PM UTC
I drink at dusk
ess muss sien
it must be
as it is written
i wake at dawn
woe is me, morning woe
trite was i, in her eyes
realize i must
that i miss
only what i
cannot have
i drink at dusk
Jan 6, 2012
Jan 6, 2012 at 4:02 PM UTC
My heart is b-beating, beating a few b-beats faster,
Of course , I feel this is no d *i. s as t e. R,
But a sudden feeling of empt i n ess* ;
A LeVeL of Love I have yet to Master.
I miss you,r kiss,
Oh, it was **b l i s s**.
Mar 9, 2017
Mar 9, 2017 at 3:44 AM UTC
Everything I write is letters.
Letters to my future self,
my past self
my conscious mind from my unconscious mind
letters to dead friends
letters to living friends I can’t speak aloud to
letters to god
letters to everyone all at once
letters to you.
Everything I write is letters
ell
ee
tee
tee
ee
arr
ess
A book is made of letters the same way a body is made of atoms
letters make words
like atoms make molecules
and molecules make cells make tissues make organs make bodies
and then fire breaks us back down to atoms
to ashen dust
So try to see the individual letters
because that’s all we ever were,
anyway
bodies built of grains of sand
books built of letters.
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 8:03 PM UTC
I kissed you, once. Twice. Three or four or five
Ecstatic times, or maybe more. I kissed
You once when I shouldn't have, many more
When I should have. In a park and with Red
October on the tee-vee and Sean Connery
Somehow pretending to be Russian.
I kissed you under the fireworks
On the Fourth, and in a caboose
At your family reunion. Remember
How we'd walk around at high school
Football games, back when anything
Was possible, and AIM was popular?
Over six times: there were marshmallows,
And the old, broken, Charlotte High School gym.
When I asked you out, I'd been dared.
The first time I kissed you, I was dared. That kiss,
Cliche and on the bleachers, brought
Butterflies that I only just fought off.
You, Ashleigh, were my first love, not named
"Wrestling"-- but I went to you-ess-enn-ay
And you went to em-ess-you. You moved
To greater Lansing from Port Huron
Just as I packed up my stuff to crisscross
My way over four years to San Diego.
I kissed you, once-- or was it more?
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 2:48 PM UTC
She's a would-be
Disney villainess
a temptress
She's a would-be
empress
a mogul-ess
She's a fear
and she's a longing
distant and yet, oh-so-near
She's a myth
and she's a nightmare
so subtle, yet full of pith
And so unreal
yet in reality, so sad
all because, she's ******* mad
Mad like the full moon
mad enough to tear her hair
don't you stare
Trope upon trope
we lay upon the forbidden woman
the discarded woman without hope
If only we had the eye of compassion
instead of berating her for her passion
we'd heal our lost mothers and daughters at last
Dec 7, 2020
Dec 7, 2020 at 12:58 AM UTC
We had the potential to become something incredible
Incredible in the heart's own mind,
The heart's mind knows what it wants
And the heart's mind yearns for one thing
For comfort
For love
Surrounding itself with solitude,
A stable ship
An unshakable breath
An unmistakable stare into a storming sea of contentious emotions
Purify the storm of regret and sorrow
Replace it with the eyes of my almost lover
That I once knew, because
Almost lovers always do
Pour me a mug of something sweet
Something purely made by you
And together, we will face fear
Of creepy crawlers, and shadows that go bump in the night
But please don't leave me,
To face unrealistic fairy tales alone
But "goodnight babe,
Sleep tight"
Just as you would say
Behind locked invisible doors, our souls, and hearts collide
Digging trenches around where we lay
Our hearts beat melodies, telling us to carry on,
But only some nights we cannot
So we lay, and whisper to each other words we wish we could say louder
But our hearts beat louder
than words ever could
So we stay where we are,
running in place
Never
getting closer to
each other
But our hearts always beat in unison
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 6:56 PM UTC