Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    From $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    Seek the upside eyes, there are two.
    Seek the upside eyes, there are two.
    Seek the upside eyes, there are two.
    Ebook90 pages32 minutes

    Seek the upside eyes, there are two.

    By Elliotté P. Joel

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    Breakage, new beginnings: polarity of hope and continuing melancholy.


    "This splendid work forms nonsensical impressionism even more, bringing it a minimalistic and rigorous shape. Elliotté returns to the roots, presenting her poetry in a livelier, more intimate and vulgar way than ever known of her."

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPublishdrive
    Release dateApr 20, 2023
    ISBN9788057047582
    Seek the upside eyes, there are two.

    Related to Seek the upside eyes, there are two.

    Related ebooks

    Poetry For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • UNLIMITED

      Cul-de-Sac

      Dec 1, 2021

      That old rage for order: how my father drove a square mouthed mower over-and-back, over-and-back, each row of neatly trimmed grass cut just like he told his barber: boy’s short, regular. O pioneer, taming this joke bit of prairie, no bindweed or dog

      5 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Six Poems

      Feb 28, 2023

      Dear C, At first Virgil’s poem is quite dull; equivocalnames of products at The Container Store: Elfa White Medium Drawer, Mesh NarrowRolling Cart (Medium Solution), Narrow Classic Mesh Box and the number of pirouetting starseach product attained. An

      5 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Home

      Feb 25, 2019

      I once lived in a yellow little house. Each morning, birds convened and sang at my bedroom window. The gate was indigo and inside the garden all kinds of flowers rose to kiss the sunny walls. The yellow nest was filled with cherished books, colourful

      5 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Two Poems by Phillip B. Williams

      Dec 15, 2017

      The masters are yet dead. Wanting to be human,I tried to rewrite The Waste Land. The canon’s reachcasts ruinous light. The masters’ pens breachthis page where, above, my own hand spectates. Babylonrisen, exorcism in reverse, whose nature upended now?

      6 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Six Sonnets

      Jan 1, 2021

      Goldenrod, I could say, you know, everybody wants somethingfrom me, but, well, everybody wants something and nobody wantsnothing from me, goldenrod, towhead, beast. Goldenrod, you packthe meadows like gold-plated sardines. I have heart palpitationsbu

      3 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Five Poems

      Jan 1, 2023

      I wanted something in my heart like a drum.Peaches fell from trees.Suddenly: monsoon season.So, I told myself a storyto soothe myself into a kind of slumbernot like the wrestling recently begunnot like the wager life seems hell-benton becoming. Meanw

      2 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      from BLACK PASTORAL

      Nov 1, 2023

      somewheres, some lifetimes ago I have run so far, so long.There is nowhere I haven’t beenBut here, in this field, a bodyLength from the ragged brinkThat gives way to forest.I collapsed here, the thin, hard slipOf me whittled at both ends.I want badly

      4 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Must-Read Poetry: September 2017

      Sep 11, 2017

      Isn’t that one of the purest goals of poetry—to justify our breaths? To recognize that we matter? The post Must-Read Poetry: September 2017 appeared first on The Millions.

      8 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Four Poems

      Mar 1, 2022

      Early such darkness, these oncoming nights& sure, I’m dull & even slow to concedehow mornings make equal, swerving measuresthere between those foremost shadowsalong the fence, amid the chickens & nerve,sheep & their indifference to any pair of foolsh

      3 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Five Poems

      Nov 1, 2020

      The American linden sways nonplussed by the storm,a bounce here, a shimmy there, just shaking like musicleft over from the night’s end wafting into the avenues before sleep.I remember once walking down Clinton Street, and singingthat line returning,

      4 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Holiday For One

      Mar 24, 2023

      Holiday For One
      4 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Until The Sea Closed Over Us And The Light Was Gone

      Jul 1, 2020

      —Dante, Canto XXVI But if the truth is dreamed of toward the morning—El Paso Although it was really last summer’s song,all this summer Despacito played on as slower then I turned myself to gazeupon Juarez. The summer everything hurts my eyes, a dozen

      6 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Four Poems

      Nov 1, 2022

      Day after Thanksgiving. I give thanks for Eveto beat the rush of appreciating hernext year and let her sleep inuntil three hundred o’clock.Thank you light on the mountainfor being my star on cloudy nights.Thank you all the guns I’ve never ownedand ki

      6 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Four Poems

      Jan 1, 2020

      Pallets of bottled water on the back porchwere one evidence of apocalypseor the demise of the way of thingsor lazily written computer code backin the 80s, when I was a boyand the nightly news was just about all the doomwe had stomachs for, whenwere t

      3 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Armed Cavalier

      Jun 5, 2023

      The end of autumn lowers its leaves in the wealthy residential neighborhoods. Paintings in galleries and private foundations hold some short-lived way of seeing into misery or love. Those artists believed in power. I should, too. Strangers unman me i

      1 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Three Poems

      Jul 1, 2023

      Jester-necked pile of ideasfattening by the cutting board.I have known the summer wall,it says slowly. The hillside facessouth into the valley.Dew on the tomato plants.Anything that grows, swarms,bunches itself against a stayand cannot stay. The vine

      4 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Four Poems

      Jan 1, 2022

      followed—in front, as horses—into daisy& silver dancing, knowing the jaw who unkeysin the danced earth to drink me down to haints,& will go again. was willed. distrusted happiness, addicted to it.a god needs of a god. here, i don’t want to reachfor g

      3 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Five Poems

      Mar 4, 2024

      Security confiscated the bracelet I’d slipped into my wallet but not the thin black sweater I wore as I walked out of Macy’s. The sweater still had its price tag and was so soft it soothed whoever was whispering “more, more” in my ears adorned with s

      4 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Three Poems

      Sep 1, 2024

      after a cycle of paintings by the Meister des Marienlebens, Munich What begins: everything. Size of a crumb,indiscriminate bundle of cells. It’sa barnacle with a dream inside. Cloudin-sewn with seed pearls. Radiant shapethat in theory she’s always ca

      4 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Same River Twice

      Feb 3, 2022

      Same River Twice
      8 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Three Poems by Rohan Chhetri

      Sep 8, 2020

      All summer the half voice lurked behind me & I played deaf for days for to live To not write about it to use my body Part the river’s flesh to operate Machinery is human too to love & for once stay awake through it all. Now it comes like the deer sle

      3 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      L’amour vrai

      Oct 27, 2022

      L’amour vrai
      5 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Four Poems

      Jan 1, 2021

      I learned the world through the bottoms of my feet, barein the creeks of summer, stepping on pebbles, the squidgeof moss between my toes. On hot asphalt, the hop and skipover cracks, feet already toughened by bramble, dirt, the pricklyground of pine

      4 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Four Poems

      Jan 1, 2021

      Hooknose, Canada Goose, slit-eyed Toucan.Porch monkey, baboon, trash-talking magpie.I cover my head in adoration, just as you doff your hat.Do not rub my head. Don’t even think about it.I bob as I chant, I pray as I breathe. Does that disgust you?I s

      2 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Four Poems

      Mar 1, 2024

      I was trying to look a little less like myselfand more like other humans, humans who belonged, so I put on a skort.Purchased in another life, when I had a husband and wrote thank-you notes and held dinner parties,the skort even had its own little poc

      6 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Nick Laird

      Dec 15, 2017

      I was trying to write like an adult.I had children.I was at the end of something. As I waited at my table by the window for the coffee,I saw that the sirocco had depositeda scrim of dust on the sill overnight,and it was the dark red of powdered blood

      3 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      Three Poems

      May 1, 2023

      Great One, Maker, Weaver of Things, I want to undress the tree to find you hidden there in the layers of sapwood, as you were hidden in a mango I ate today, its sweet and buttery flesh. A fly entered the house through the front door. Was that you? At

      3 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      The Way Back Home

      Apr 30, 2022

      Morning light in Sydney has a quality of powdered gold, spilt celestial talcum. It gets up the nose. The streets seem to have nothing to think about other than parking and shopping, violence a concept from another hemisphere. The calm seems deliberat

      6 min read

    • UNLIMITED

      From Cantares Mexicanos

      Dec 1, 2023

      Last night I dreamt that I was employed as a suicide prevention specialist in ancient Mesoamerica. We had no phones then so no hotline to call or anything like that. I held these gatherings going place to place for people to tell me their stories and

      3 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for Seek the upside eyes, there are two.

    0 ratings

    0 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      Seek the upside eyes, there are two. - Elliotté P. Joel

      Close the door gently.

      Poetry of Elliotté P. Joel

      Old beach

      South sound recalls how blind air relishes on young bones. Observation of screaming eyes cradle on crowns of dead fish, treewool dancers disregard past earthly occurrences that life is braided by uneven hand when you can just set the hair free.

      Look, the smoke is rising up from dead shoulders. Sweaty women, seraphine, they were the frozen sea, calling, stolen withless pulling the horns of childhood by rotten teeth. We just wanted to live somehow although it came from the lack of love.

      Some pig sold him strychnine. Pigs… are better with salt. The beach is better alive. It’s so very easy to get attached and walk the plank way bricked by pigeon and chicken feathers to the cottage of calm dull kitchens. Feet. Knees. Stomach. Heart. Head. Crown. Wake up. Get up, it’s the unraveled tule of Sunday’s white.

      How to kill Goethe

      Do not let your brunette locks freeze. I will cover you in a still white coat of acryl paint, I will pay for the olives and walk you home.

      The leering distance of my soul is haunting the pleasurehouse – this is exactly what happens when you look your reflection in the eye.

      Have you ever seen this man?

      I have. Who hasn’t? We used to know why am I doing this but I forgot.

      I forgot the olive yards. The yards I have forgotten

      levitate somewhere in the sudden aggression of summer storm.

      Once more. You just need to walk this road one last time and you will be set free.

      No longer do I recall words or acts:

      I just dreamt that salvation for me has come and then I fell through the floor into hell.

      He cannot reach me through time. No, I have not seen this man.

      I am my own person now.

      His harrowing back no longer bents above me for shelter like the calculus of drearily tender parts of brain...

      See me caress through flames:

      I am the hell itself.

      Somersault

      We’d done a lot

      to flee their mistreatment.

      Should I reinvent

      the hollow caged bird?

      Somersaults in the gym

      scraped the skin

      and rubber.

      Loose pipes play like church’s bells.

      The morrowhail of August 1961

      Firecrackers in houses, fields, brooks.

      It urges us to wear the curtains like an ethereal gown for goddess.

      We had a math teacher named Katherine Dee. Everyone was very mean to her.

      Fleshy calves of rooves and drowsing pixie Anemone, and the rain.

      The iron thaw slaughtering midday-planted tomatoes in yogurt pots like an imaginary friend who doesn’t love you.

      You never know when to stop drinking.

      Deluded, delusional fever...

      Forget; the aridity of my hurdle to sustain might be the spell of this city.

      Morrowhail keeps infecting the wounded brawls of trying dawn stained by

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1
      pFad - Phonifier reborn

      Pfad - The Proxy pFad of © 2024 Garber Painting. All rights reserved.

      Note: This service is not intended for secure transactions such as banking, social media, email, or purchasing. Use at your own risk. We assume no liability whatsoever for broken pages.


      Alternative Proxies:

      Alternative Proxy

      pFad Proxy

      pFad v3 Proxy

      pFad v4 Proxy