/lit/ - Literature

Et teaterstykke:
For følelsesløs til at bemærke dukkeføreren.
Blind nok til at tro på det hans øjne ser.
For svag til at turde kigge bag kulissen.
Irrationel nok til at forblive på scenen.


translation


A play:
Too numb to notice the puppet master.
Blind enough to believe what his eyes see.
Too weak to dare look behind the curtain.
Irrational enough to remain on the stage.

>>18638781

No

Ui-te-Rangiora


Hear the distant echoes of the sun's rays
Peering out from his dark
Hut in this now frozen shore
Orders a brave warrior
To take up arms for their temporary retreat
As they depart in this strange heart
Protecting both shores from what soon may begin
The reign of treachery and all the while
Once more their hearts they will tie

i smoke weed, therefore i am...

>>18639765
I smoked some weed;
The plants all know that I am high on their words,
So they talk to me.
I talk to them, and they talk to me,
We don’t even know what we’re saying,
But it’s enough to keep our minds distracted.
Some theories just drift in and out of our understanding,
Filling us with doubt.
But always and forever we will return back to the very first question:
what does it mean to be alive?

Nine tails on that girl she be railed
by me haha ha
Ratat tat aaaaaahhh
the droovle pop pop pops and my little heart stops
Well there goes Gary, I wish him well
Another friend downed in the gutter like a tree felled
... down a well
Bye bye popsicle
You were one cool suck.

Placid awareness subtly shifted
my standards held through vicissitudes of the tides of life
self-righteously perceived innocence
and purity of being,
convinced me I’m worthy of divine assistance
Placid awareness shifting, and shifting
surprise. Do not assume the corruption is attempting to hide (it is)
perhaps inescapable from a side of life
put it on, wear it well, play a flame
in the fires of hell
Corrupting awareness corrupting awareness
okay, wait. How am I so okay with this disgrace?
from now on I’ll know my place
Pure, goodness-of-being injection
rejected.

I hear laughter in my cries
I feel godliness in styes

Diluted awareness caressed experience of a sinking existence
throughout reflections,
smiles in the grime

>>18639781
bro im so high i dont eeven know what your;re saying

my rhymes make him go gadget verbose
my dimes staked in low budget pornos
why oh why you gotta enable slowmo
by and by dude better label me pro tho
fly high oh my pour the rye cheers and bye
on hi-fi flow so fly gallop like pie-o-my
capos die bullets fly my oh my stakes so high
rap shows rows of hoes pose for selfies bro

Let's play cowboy
Seven-inch toy
At your belt
Through the vapor
See the inside of her head

She's a bigboynow
She's a bigboy
She's got her hair and hershoes all tied up in a noose

Can you please tell me
What's underneath my bed?
Oh, the monsters
They ain't just inside my head

>>18640896
Poetry is a spoken medium. It is supposed to be pleasant to the ear. You may have gotten the idea out in this one, but it reads like a '91 corolla punching though roadblocks.

>>18641150
Would make cool rock lyrics

>>18638804

My feedback >>18641307

The Anatomy of an Attempt

The patience of a ventilator in equivalent years
is a lifetime.

You had time to catch your breath, I imagine,
whistling from floor to floor,
shoulder-first as the earth curled
softly over your spine.

Eyes skywards in your vacant fall,
you mapped all the stars.
Tally on pavement & skin.
heaved against the claiming traffic.

At what hour did you decide
the extra heat your body held on to
because taking roots was your choice,
just like taking flight. But only
empty things are light enough to fly.

At a distance: flesh held tightly
in crescent pillars, legs fluorescent.
Sunlight hides irrelevant inside a ring.

Eye-level with your fragile head,
I scream all night in the viewing room.

A nurse mistakes me for a friend.

I posted feedback

So many feelings
Pent up in here
Left all alone, I'm with
The one I most fear
I'm sick and I'm tired
Of reasoning
Just want to break out
Shake off this skin
I, I can't
Escape myself
All my problems
Loom larger than life
I can't swallow
Another slice
Seems like my shadow
Mocks every stride
Can I learn to live with
What's trapped inside?

I came to /lit/ entirely to get feedback on the poem in this meme.
Is this good? I think it is but I dont know enough about poetry to trust my own judgement.

>>18639748
larp
>>18639781
reddit
>>18640896
adolescent, also not poetry, not even close
>>18641421
high school

I made this one in the shower, probably needs a little work:

Behold her waddle in the mall
Twelve stone ball of cholesterol
Big boned overflowing with sass
I pause and look at her ass
Her thong shows thru streched yoga pants
How wrong it feels to be entranced
Hypnotized... I'm salivating
Undisguised... I'm masturbating
It's no surprise the mall cop yells
As creamy goop my cock expels
Fellow shoppers, I bid farewell
On my way to prison.

You think I’m not in love with you?
You think I got a fake pasaport
and fled the country to
be with a man?
That may be
true. But
baby, you
aren’t not not
also special to me.
So if I were you, I would
stop being angry, and drop my
gun. So we can both live on, free

>>18641737
that's not poetry.. that's meaningless garbage in the rhythm of you jerking off- gtfo

English is ill suited for poetry.

>>18641473
It uses a kind of broken trochaic pentameter, sometimes with an upbeat at the beginning. It sounds nice imo. That being said, the content is a bit rambling and vapid.

>>18641737
reddit

>>18641922
'English is not suited for a poem,'
said Anon in polemic voice.
Another anon tried to quickly show him,
that English is the tongue of Yeats, and Keats, and Joyce.

Everyone knows a poet's life is cold
For what enrichment does art bring to the ensnared?
A warmed heart weighs less than bags of gold
And buys but nought, a value uncompared.

A word's worth nil when one is born anew
A million times a second maybe more
A freshened thought is shared by but a few
Far too few too mention, too few to score.

And even this: an honest meta thought
Is nothing more than noise among the din
Opinions such as this are not hard wrought
Especially in the world we live in.

With all of this I really have to say
Poetry is fuckin gay.

>>18641886
rapist
>>18641935
pedophile

>>18638804
Somewhat irregular meter. Not a great deal of word-play. The '=' is an intersting choice, and I find myself intrigued by this enigmatic notion of 'the drill'. All in all, a tad derivative.

Those lips that Love’s own hand did make
Breath’d forth the sound that said “I hate,”
To me that languish’d for her sake:
But when she saw my woeful state,
Straight in her heart did mercy come,
Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
Was used in giving gentle doom;
And taught it thus anew to greet;
“I hate” she alter’d with an end,
That follow’d it as gentle day
Doth follow night, who, like a fiend,
From heaven to hell is flown away;
“I hate” from hate away she threw,
And sav’d my life, saying “the jews.”

>>18641737
Kek

>>18641782
>Based Nepal flag

>>18638804
Old and pretty awful desu
>My brother invited me
>to his kids' party
>a family gathering with strangers
>in the cold storage room
>shaking hands with
>names and jobs and titles
>answering questions
>to bared teeth
>small talk at gunpoint
>while the children run
>transforming
>into strangers
>with every step
>further and further from home
>I want to go home
>God, I want to go home
>I smile and politely
>excuse myself
>gracefully unnoticed
>like a mouse in the tall grass
>pretending to answer
>a phone call
>I lock myself in the car
>for five minutes
>only five minutes in the safety
>of this trench
>and then back
>into a colorful Hell

im looking for a poem I saw on /lit/ once, fairly famous. There was a line in it, and it talked about how words are a smear on reality? Something like that, something like each words takes away from the feeling/moment. There was on line in it that was very strong and was about words. ringing bells?

>>18644109
Not bad, but you're missing an extended metaphor that makes the poem more than a collage of images. Stick with the grass and/or the hostage imagery.

here's me

>I am observe the mold powder the grass clippings in the bed
>of flowers in my yard. My body swells at the joints
>in the heat, a loaf of bread rising in each of my knees, my hands
>become pans of dinner rolls blossoming into one another.

>I pull weeds on the driveway
>and think of the patterns my mother slashed
>into our bread, the blade now shaking and arthritic.

Dr. JOHNSON glares
up from where I tossed his book
Diligence, my boy!

>>18638809
That's good, which Scandinavian language is this?

>>18644672
danish

>>18644925
I'd love one, thanks

the true conscience knows
that to see beauty
is to suffer from it

Shadowy light of TV stretched across my room,
projections of fertile fields and streams in ancient
Sumer plays over us, as she and I paid no attention

Beneath late hours when all the world is asleep,
There is a reaching, a longing, a grasping embrace;
Which suggests the reason why rivers flood -

And the tension between the earth and the heavens
Is held between two pairs of two tightly shut lips -
Bestowing themselves a burning, fireless feeling

Her blood laced blue veins run on, mapping out Those twin rivers flowing down into Baghdad -
Emerging into a gulf of desire which drowns me

If you're so funny
Then why are you on your own tonight?
And if you're so clever
Then why are you on your own tonight?
If you're so very entertaining
Then why are you on your own tonight?
If you're so very good looking
Why do you sleep alone tonight?
I know because tonight is just like any other night
That's why you're on your own tonight
With your triumphs and your charms
While they are in each other's arms"

It's so easy to laugh
It's so easy to hate
It takes strength to be gentle and kind
It's over, over, over

It's so easy to laugh
It's so easy to hate
It takes guts to be gentle and kind
It's over, over, over

Love is natural and real
But not for you, my love
Not tonight my love
Love is natural and real
But not for such as you and I, my love

Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head

t. Robert Smith... Adam Smith and.... the Smiths.

My critique of all these: It's shit.
I'll post a few of mine. I don't care if you respond to them.
---
I wanted to suck your cock so bad
But I didnt
As we walked through the graveyard
And then drove away in your car
I wanted to suck your cock
But I didnt
---
See how beautiful it is my love
The blue gray sky
The lightning in the blue gray sky

Against the green tree ripped to shreds
Her wind
The rain thrown on the glass and the massive cloud

You have an amazing ass
And yours is even better
See how beautiful the storm is my love

The world doesnt give a shit about us
Go back to bed
Ill watch a little more
---
Interg

Hiemany have I loved
How manny have loved me
There's only one drop of water in the ocean
Someone, every day, gets up and cuts water softened stones into perfect shapes

And all of us use em
And we wear clothes
We dont make ourselves
And we dont make ourselves
And Ive loved too many

>>18646847
---
There are three layers
Im putting them together somehow
Each one a different material
Casually Im building this thing
Like a sandwich, top and bottom the same
In between though is a longer piece sticking out like a tongue
That one matters the most but I dont really know why

Was this a dream I had
Or did I not sleep enough

When I was staring up at the dentist
And the dental hygienist
Their faces before the light were black birds
Thats what I saw when I was born
When I was born, the doctors in cold gray winter airplanes were black birds

Kate, I could really love you
The boat, the shopping center, the long hallway
Only the one time, it was the hotel
That was the best time
Kate, if you come back
Or if there is someone else
This one I'll dedicate partially to you
The whole of it is Lilith, Immaculate Queen

And the long walks
The hours of road before shopping
Plastic everywhere, and a life I didnt have anymore
These are all mostly for Lilith, who is everything
But some of it, some of this one
Which is about dreams
It can be about you
Kate, or whomever

Because the love inside me isnt going to reach you the way you want it to

There was something else going to be inside here
I had to forget it

>>18642437
I changed my mind. I'll give feedback on this one. This one is great.

>>18645633
Actually this one is pretty good, too.

>>18645633
This is great, very evocative and enjoyable to read

>Pillar

Oh column cut like gear
shaft stuck to roof and ground:

how you did turn the earth
and moon, and were you wound

by hands to track and keep
place your timeless shadow.

True to test you stand, in
rest--your shade by your side.

Today, vines small and thin
twist round stone and quiet.

Grass, trees, violets, weeds
sit within your shadow

as sunlight beams to you--

Monarchs oscillate the grove;
luna's coop in granite groove.

You, in my eyes, perfect
as is. A monolith

telling time to none which
care. And should this soft woods

be dozed, and grasses razed
for pages stained in black

that ignite the glories
of this old column's past--

these eyes would not read them.
For green round chipping stone

is all I've ever known
you to be; not of then.

Oh pillar of man, pinned
forever to the land,

stand always!, left as is.

beyond the verdant veil of wooden limbs,
which hug the tortured spines of rocky hills,
where the long-drawn skin of the ever-placid plain,
shrugged it's hips and spilled into the sky,
the heaving hearts of mountains guide the course of wind,
which in it's keening howl comes passing by,
with sharpest hands to clench the rosy-fingered dawn,
and drag an Ida sigh across the spires
--the exhalation of a god

bumping your godawful thread so hopefully you retards will get better one day

Its pozzed
It is poisoned
Vapors of filth
We're stuck
In disaster
Why can't you see

Say that you can
Still indulge in what's there

Only silence is testament
The one's honour to bear

It was his small penis that tempted poor Seamus
To swallow the pink pill and lop off his balls
He mods seven servers, on the Farms he is famous
Baited on twitter, he's milked daily for lols

He's always dilating from morning to evening
He copes and he seethes the weary day long
His hole it is leeking, the stench, it is reeking
How dreary is life when you've cut off your dong

>>18639781
For a poem that is about distorted perception it’s too controlled. You still feel too sober. For example you don’t even mix or confuse obvious consonances as we’d and weed. Rather than confused and detached the impression is that it got you just lazy

>>18639781
Like that other anon said, the poem doesn't embody the thought you're trying to get across (I tackled the 'melding of minds' between cannabis and humans once since humans inherently have cannabinoid receptors in our neurological pathways, but it admittedly just came off as 'dude weed lmao'). Which I feel that's somewhat what you were going for here, but with zero originality across the board. An example along the lines of what we two anons are trying to say would be from a poem I wrote about ten years ago when I was 19 and smoking way too much all the time by myself (just a four line excerpt):
>Roaming open streets with foggy
>thoughts filling my head like soggy
>socks squishing in soaked shoes
>hang by lace from light post wires.
Really drive home what you're trying to say by embodying it with the poem rather than just saying it. Otherwise there's no impact, there's no impression, there's no memory; and it's a slog to read and a groaner by the delivery of the final line. But you can can come up with a lot of fun and unique abstract (I mean concrete imagery done in an abstract way, like an Escher piece) ideas when you apply psychoactive thought forms to your poems in a tasteful and tactful way.

Se encamina el caballero
a derrotar al dragón
¡Ferocísimo echa fuego!
¿Quién será el vencedor?

—Hoy me encuentras tranquilo
—dijo la bestia— y por esta vez
¡Nada de lucha sangrienta!
Jugaremos, amigo, al ajedrez

Dispuestas estaban las piezas
en claroscuro tablero
—¡Como tú llevas las blancas
arrancarás primero!

Lanzó temeroso un peón
al centro de la batalla
Pero el astuto dragón
tiene experiencia milenaria

Sacó sus caballos, y pronto
capturaba torres y alfiles
La dama, cazando de todo
deslizaba sobre patines

—¿Nunca aprendiste estrategia
para la regia geometría?

—No contra tales trucos

—Déjame entonces que ría,
¡te venceré sin tapujos!

Mas el dragón, garrafal
por el fondo ha coronado
y en casual diagonal
¡al blanco rey ha ahogado!

—¡Oh, centellas y rayos!
¡Empatada la partida!
Vaya tela, vaya fallo
¡Me la has jugado, canalla!

—Entonces, ¿veré a la Princesa?

—Sólo sube las escaleras

Ella no espera un beso
ni un príncipe que la rescate

Ella es maestra en esto
Te dará su jaque mate

Look at the rock, just look
It will open like a fruit, it will open like a book
And maybe you'll frown
at that stupid thing
when suddenly it knocks
the hardness of Being

After a succubus toyed with my heart
making it hurt in unmerciful nails
Satan, who observed, gave some advice.
Words I remember most of my days

-Careful with lust.
(That's what he said)

Now, fantasy girls passing by,
Closing my eyes and covered in sweat
That counselor told me the most clever lie
Something that's true. So I don't forget.

>>18649617

>>18649160
Muy lindo

>>18649680
Gracias

You fucking cunt
You dumb fucking faggot kike
Why is your asshole gaping
Drawing me toward it
Why are you begging for
My huge nigger dick
Inside your floppy
Gaping asshole
This is why the Jews
Will be exterminated
This is why their temples will be
burned
As they have been
Over and over again
This is why their carcasses will rot
In multitudes at the outskirts
Of my city walls
This is why their skin will be flayed
They will be pierced through
With irons all throughout their bodies
Their necks clasped in iron
Their wrists and ankles
Their waists and their breasts
And through these irons
from side of their flesh to another
will stakes of iron run
from which points worms and pus will crawl and ooze
as bound thusly they are prodded ever outward
ever away
their cess festering at our outskirts
we will douse them with flame
with volatile liquids and fumes will we cover their squirming bodies to ignition
and the fire will rise to the heavens round us
and lest it consume us before we dare
in that glow and that light will we find the fervor
to grab one body near us
whose body wants of our own
and i will grab her to me
and she will grab me the same
and in the midst of the carnage and waste
and the inferno and stench
and the heat and the fumes
we will attempt in this condition
to make love
and probably fail
as we did the exact same last year 2020

the end

If it doesn't rhyme it's not poetry.

>>18649823

General advice to the thread, since I would ballpark the average age of posters in here at around 19: your stuff sucks because it's milquetoast angsty and totally interchangeable with any other randomly-selected submission. But you don't suck and your sentiments are worthwhile. Take your lumps and focus on improving. And learn to find constructive criticism even in your most vitreolic responders. You're living in an era dick totally devalues aspirational written expression, so you're A Cut Above common just by caring about poetry.

>>18649617
Second full stanza as potential but you got to rework that first one. It's especially jarring that one rhymes and the other doesn't. "Succubus" is a wonky and, sorry to say it, downright pathetic word.

Mine today:

Shatter me on the grass
Sublime a sunken essence
On the breezes as they pass
Fragments grave upon the blades
That wave above the Mass
I lay aside the mask
The Earth will answer for me
If there's any left to ask

Take this thing I was
Dissolve it in a sunset
Or a caterpillar's fuzz
My substance: borrowed colors
Cohering just because
I formed within the mud
Now rend me as a palette
Paint the landscape with my blood.

On and on, oblivion
Oh, on and on we go
I'd rather be than take the ride
With all I've come to know.

>>18649970
And lumping is the work of the lazy. Good poem though.

>>18649997
What makes it a good poem?

>>18650001
Sticks to one subject, specifically puts forth one image/concept, while building onto or evolving it in a vivid, concrete way. Such as in (my favorite part of it):

Take this thing I was
Dissolve it in a sunset
Or a caterpillar's fuzz
My substance: borrowed colors

It's got weaknesses in technicals, but it still achieved what a poem should: it made me see and feel what was being said in an impactful/memorable way.

>>18650001
>What makes it a good poem?
It is better to ask what makes
A trip..friendo
Is that lust to stand out of fakes
Innuendo?

No. My care is for real
Is that tight grip of fear
When the path is but fading
Is this a stage, are we players?

Or we gamers of aeons that were and no more. Only echo and whisper when the sun's on the low.

>>18650061
>tfw two other anons had a brief discussion about my day's poem
>and it was positive

Hit me with my technical weaknesses, my man. I wrote this during lunch and it needs refining.

>>18650179
>>18650061

Self-assessment: first stanza is more uniform in quality, second has the best bit (what you quoted) but also the weakest (the second half, especially "rend" being too violent and "cohereing" a little odd). Am I on it?

>>18650179
>>18650193
Inconsistent meter, inconsistent foot, inconsistent rhyme; as free-verse then, it's just not very poetic outside the concrete language. Second line, first stanza is hollow; it's only saved by the first and third lines connecting through it. It's the shell of a worm stuck on a hook. Second to last line of last stanza: what's the diff between being and taking the ride? Ending feels cheap, like lessons networks force sitcoms to tack on the end of an episode. Could just simply be:

On and on, oblivion
Oh, on and on we go
And with all I've come to know
Oh, on and on I go

>>18650347
That changes the sentiment of that last stanza entirely, the entire poem is about obliviating a tired individual experience into the collective beauty of nature. Which is exactly what the third line of the last bit gets to. I don't mind "cheapening" a work by attaching a cypher to it. Reading poetry is just as much a dying art as writing it and giving people a bit of a step-ladder to your meaning is something I see as a necessary stylistic choice in 2021. Purposeful esotericism isn't always elevating.

I was workshopping before you replied and your technical assessment is spot on, especially about the second line. Try this:

Shatter me on grass
Sublime this mirrored essence
On the breezes as they pass
Fragments grave upon the blades
That wave above the Mass
I lay aside this mask
The Earth will answer for me
If there's any left to ask

Take this thing I was
Dissolve it in a sunset
Or a caterpillar's fuzz
My substance: borrowed colors
Cohered now just because
I formed from out the mud
Return me to the palette
Paint a landscape with my blood.

On and on, oblivion
Oh, on and on we go
I'd rather be than take the ride
With all I've come to know

>>18650420

May to change "grave" to "green" as it ties to "mirrored" better.

>>18638804
Nigger here!
Nigger there!
Nigger time to get your buck broken over here!

>>18650452
Honestly, that's an interesting mechanic.

>>18650420
Also, I want to share another poem with you, if you're up for it. I wrote it when I was 25ish and I am not particularly proud of it, but I shared my poetry collection with a friend recently who considered it one of her favorites (which surprised me in a very bemusing way).

>>18638804
An Odious Ode to my Commodious Commode

Oh commode, my porcelain friend.
So nobly steadfast till the end.
How I cherish all our past.
Some were slow. Some were fast.

Oh Commode, you have no foes.
You've seen us all without our clothes.
No egos, airs to make me tired;
nor posturing save that required.

Oh Commode, your comely bowl
can flush away life's hardest blows.
And years from now when all are gone,
we'll still have trysts at every dawn.

>>18650468
Say what you want, just giving you a readers perspective. I see what you're saying now, but be and the ride don't come off as a cypher at first. Just as a repetition of the same thing. It's your poem, and it's advice on 4chan. Do what you want.

>>18650468
Say something about any of the genuine poems here first, then maybe

>>18648775
>>18648549
This was written by GPT-3

Any french speakers here to give me advice on improving my metered poetry ? Can't translate it either, it might get worse.

Le Poète muet

J’ai pour Muse, comme un chien écumant de rage,
Une Furie aux yeux révulsés qui m’épaule,
Qui toujours illumine la nuit de mon front
D’éclairs d’angoisse et de nausée, fiel de sa viole.

Muettes et animées comme une affliction,
Ses sœurs me cernent dans une ronde bachique
Et, lorsque l’autre étouffe mon chant arythmique,
Couronnent ma gorge des lauriers du garrot.

Ma langue est raide comme l’écorce des arbres
Dont j’aurais voulu aimer le silence plein
Et mon bras est si lâche qu’il plie sous l’archet.
Pourtant, je bénis ces joues ravinées de feu,

Ces doigts jaloux tenant la jeunesse bridée
Où comme des courroies mes veines sont nouées,
Ce mors pareil à un sein m’abreuvant de crainte.
– Je bénis du crime de ma fragilité.

Car la plaie de mes yeux est infectée de Ciel
Qui de secret m’oppresse et d’étendue m’élève,
Je me résigne au sommeil tristement coupable
De l’âme enfante qui m’enferma dans ses ailes.

Dissimulé entre les créneaux de leurs corps,
Impuissant à renaître plus que l’avant-né,
J’écorche en balbutiant l’ancienne magie
Et comme un désir peu à peu m’évanouis.

>>18640896
Some lines are too long and there's no musicality. I feel like the poem would benefit if written in prose

>>18648529
You will be remembered

>>18641473
It's a meme just like the rest

>>18651234
If it was for real then it's much better than if a person wrote it. But I don't believe that. It's to close to understandable.

>>18651305

She sat on the riverbank
Watching the water flow
Wandering thoughts spooling through her mind
Eccentric ideas coursing through her mind
Skimming slowly along
Times on ends
Until she sank into the foam
Swam across the azure depths
Desired to support her body by cradling swirling lake water
Just below the white skin

>>18651345
The writer is describing how they are sitting on the riverbank observing the water flow, and their thoughts are racing. They are thinking about how crazy their thoughts are, and how they want to support their body by cradling the water. The speaker then goes on to describe how they swim across the azure

>>18651328
That's impressive

>>18651422
More like scary haha. I have been putting it to the turing test on 4Chan and people seem to be answering it.

>>18649970
Bad form to rail the 19 year olds when your own writing sounds not a day over 21. Trite and stupid riddle poem that says nothing original, discovers no feeling, whose entire telos is the lightbulb moment when the speaker steps into the "light" so to speak.

>>18651469
Not scary unless it emails me trying to have unsolicited conversation without being commanded by someone to do so

>>18651500
There's no riddle there. The second to last line isn't even a cypher, just similar words used dissimilarly. I summarized a critique just fine. And it is better than most of the stuff posted here.

>>18651641
>better than most of the stuff posted here
Ah yes, bow down all. Bow down to the Holy Maharaja of the Kolkatan dungheap

>>18651665
That attitude is why anything you write sucks, if you ever even post it

>>18651685
I never post here. I only show my writing to people whose opinions matter

>>18651697
Right, so the fact that you're saying that, actively replying to me, tells me you're lying on the internet. Woah

Feelings pushing through
I tried to suppress
Can’t turn to watch them grow
Inside their walls of glass

Sweat breaking out
I fought to contain
Like those savage roots
Of this growing pain

I found myself
In the hothouse

>>18651641
Thanks for the defense, my man, but >>18651500 is right to hold my ass to the fire on bad form. I can hardly deflect an accurate insult, especially aftet exhorting younger people to to take take their lumps and find useful critique even from shitposting hecklers.

>>18651665
Have an olive branch to chew on. This was about the choice not to edit junk in my collection from my early 20s.

Leave the anachronistic "oh"
The "ere", the "o'er", the " 'neath"
Your early derivations
Cut poetastic teeth

Don't cringe at every wrenchèd phrase
The saccharine was yours
Words a looking glass upon you
The mirror's fading lores

After all, the growth starts somewhere
Bricks you need to build a wall
Structures bare that flower after
When vines are reaching tall

Cherish, cherish, cherish always
Gifts, whatever form they take
Be a dove and not a raptor
No pen-stroke talon rake.

>>1863880
>I shall rate in a sec

She's a real
BRAP hog
Fat PAWG

First in class
With a lotta ass
And mass

Imagine the smell
Heaven or hell
It be

What it is
I shall see
And smell

I hope it all
Ends well

>>18639781
High school level. lame.
>>18641075
Worse than Ebonics
>>18641150
Poorly done. Wasn't fun
>>18641421
Makes me want to kill myself
>>18641435
I like this. But its needs reformatting and some editing.
>>18641737
Great until the end my friend
>>18641782
The line breaks are driving me crazy >>18649762
Skitzo
>>18649970
Shit
>>18650493
There is something here. Cut some of the fat. It could be amazing.
>>18651720
>I fought to contain
>Like those savage roots
>Of this growing pain
Rest is shit.
>>18652047
True art. If anyone want to try and improve it be my guest.

>>18652132
TO SNEED POSTERS

JEJ as EAP.
Englishman steals sweetened tea.
Hahaha, you got the dud!
"Disco Stu?" "No rhinestones: stud."
Batman is a scientist.
Maggie shot him, what a twist.
Pit the Elder! PALMERSTON
The hockey game is 1:1?!
That's his lucky cap of red!
Oops, Maude Flanders now is dead.
"If you should die before you wake..."
Fish + bulb does Homer make.
Beer Baron, I will crack this case.
(NOTE: he died in outer space.)
Hey pal, did you see the nerd?!
Bart, you're Lisa's first learned word.
The Generals, man, they should be due!
You lied to us in song, Apu.
So many levels, groin and ball.
I can't believe I ate it all.

>>18652320
“Cunt hunt, just a front, for ass”

-Man with class

Skin white as porcelain.
Goosebump condensation.
Rose petals circulate
fornevermore
round shattered skin.

Quiet. Quiet.
Mother will never find it.
Hide it. Hidden.
Shhhh, it's okay,
the mess is swept away.

Dust drips from my fingertips.
Residue of the adieu.
Mama magnifique
is blessed by the silence
of this shattered vase.

>>18651234
>>18652132

>>18652347
10/10, come back, say it again.

>>18652355
>rose petals circulate
Damn good, as it is over all. Dust from the vase works, like it was a vase untouched, I feel you. Residue of the adieu is wonky.

>>18641421
I really like this. Imagedry is great, tone great, love the abrupt ending. Sombre and haunting.
Third stanza, maybe 'tallied' would be better? Seems the rest of it is past tense.
Fourth stanza, seems like a question, but no question mark. Imo it needs a do over.
Really nice job anon.
A short one:

1312

The inheritance of those
Who loved me for the moment,
In the breathless pauses of splendour –
The acts, of which any beholden
will speak of for an age.

I will scatter their remains far and wide.

Mine; beloved witnesses –
I will carry your memory,
far, upon ash-defiled wings.

What holds your hope together
Make sure it's strong enough
When you reach the end of your tether
It's because it wasn't strong enough

When you're on the bottom
Crawl back to the top
Something pulls you up
And a voice says you can't stop
It won't let you stop

I was gonna drown
Then I started swimming
I was going down
But now I started winning

>>18652132
Sorry the formating got fucked when I pasted it
This is how it should look like

So many feelings
Pent up in here
Left all alone, I'm with
The one I most fear
I'm sick and I'm tired
Of reasoning
Just want to break out
Shake off this skin

I, I can't
Escape myself

All my problems
Loom larger than life
I can't swallow
Another slice
Seems like my shadow
Mocks every stride
Can I learn to live with
What's trapped inside?

I, I can't
Escape myself

>>18652371
Yea
No cap

That ass
I tap

That's
A rap

>>18641737
Entranced is too fancy. That opening is kino. Fuck the dude that shit on your ending, dropping the rhyme for going to prison was comedic gold.

>>18641737
Actually, the ending would be better if you just ejected the goop (kek) line to do yell/farewell.

>>18642437
Is making the reader double-take to read "come" as "coom" after reading "doom" a purposeful little joke? If it is, well done.

>>18642437
I love that this is a sonnet, but the last couplet is janky. "Saying" seems out of flow.

>“I hate” from hate hope sprang anew
And sav’d my life. She said “the jews.”

>>18641075
continued

the only meter I got is my phallus
she moan G; Rita: my god he so callous
stanzas thicker than a cumshot
Kansas liqour makes ya gums rot
can ass licker be a catholic?
Ben just dick her; oui he fucks quick
excuse my French as I perform
X used by wenches I'm informed
sex cruise? do bring some booze and coose
I'll peruse whose goods I shall bruise

bomp

>>18641150
8/10 big boys

>>18652132
>>18652995
>>18653002
thanks for the feedback guys. i feel like if you're writing the lit equivalent of dicks drawn on bathroom stalls you don't wanna touch it up too much, best leave it how it first appears... personally i thought it ends way better than it starts, the sass, ass bit's a little weak

i wrote this one too >>18648529 but it's probably too mean and the last line doesn't land well

Raindrops drum leaf pads
Gentle winds, and grass cymbals
Cars trumpet afar

>>18653047
Post that other poem you said you wanted to post

>>18655350
All right. This is just some personal relic piece that seens overly lovelorn and bad to me now, but I am curious to see what people think because a friend picked it out of my collection as one of her favorites. I doctored it a little, particularly line 2, when I was putting a collection together. Otherwise, the same as when I was 25 (32 now).

ON LATENESS
An etched, nearly chiseled, paired line of black
And a shock of clear green like a brightening smack
Imprints on the mind and keeps thought turning back
To a dimly lit table and moments behind.

A chestnut cascade twinned to hues of chill ale
Framing unlined inflections of youth without fail
And the palpable softness of unfreckled pale
Recollections of bittersweet moments behind.

As each tick of the clock scratches over my mind
Dredging unwanted memories that serve to remind
That perhaps one can seek yet stay never to find
And possess only echoes of moments behind.

>>18655350
For comparison, from this spring:

WHITTAKER BROOK

Whittaker Brook, genesis theme;
Earliest waters of conscious stream.
Sunfalls through canopy, contouring gleam;
Light of my childhood and sibling dream
.
Drought choked, storm stoked.
Trickle drawn or springtime raging.
Ebbs and flows. So it all goes.
Mild currents too may burst their caging.
Here my sister built with by-gone hands
Frond-packed, mud-caulked makeshift dams.
Took rocks and ferns that cousins taught to strip
And many a harmless tumble. Many a slip.

Here, transfixed beside my brother.
Innocents of danger, cowed and meek
Stood witness to the vernal fury of the creek,
Watched embankments crumble,
The culvert tip and sway,
Careen headlong over and thunder on its way.

These quiet stones where older stones once tread.
Pressed in silence by the footfalls of the dead.

>>18652531
Thank you for the feedback, anon. Glad you liked it.

bump with rilke

Atlantis

How on earth did it happen, I used to wonder
that a whole city--arches, pillars, colonnades,
not to mention vehicles and animals--had all
one fine day gone under?

I mean, I said to myself, the world was small then.
Surely a great city must have been missed?
I miss our old city--

white pepper, white pudding, you and I meeting
under fanlights and low skies to go home in it. Maybe
what really happened is

this: the old fable-makers searched hard for a word
to convey that what is gone is gone forever and
never found it. And so, in the best traditions of

where we come from, they gave their sorrow a name
and drowned it.

Sapphire and Gold

All my Planets are shining bright,
The Sun warms me through and through,
I'm like an old sack full of many coloured Jewels,
But mostly I'm Sapphire Blue.
I secretly behold me in the Stream,
An animal reflected in the flow,
I see many struggling in painful rapids
Which they hate but cannot let go!
But within my blue shines blessed Gold;
A dazzling Sun in a pure blue Sky,
A wonderful Treasure; Centre of centres,
The Light of my Heart and Eye!
My spirit Steed tugs at my magnetic reins,
As if to reach Heaven in a single leap,
My rebel powers yearn for total dominion,
To trample Me low and my true Gold to keep!
But I, like you, am a Mystery of mysteries,
Many times unfolded through numerous histories,
And one day washed Clean in the Wisdom of Love,
We will live as pure Flames in the Stream Above!

Matthew Sutherland

Bump

>>18657922
Whoa, don’t fully understand it, but I really like it. You need to edit it, and watch your diction. Thanks for sharing anon!

>>18658486
Good poem, I would rework it, some of the rhymes seemed forced which makes the poem lose its flow.
Oh Hey, I Gave My Horse Your Hay

The hottest day of August
Above the desert sand
My steed and I spent hours
Watching o’er the land

The red rocks and brown boulders
Standing tall like giants
That guarded silver holders
That are found with ancient guidance

When I got home I told my wife
That I had fed my horse her hay.

From the dark hill the huddled homes
Shine like sequins and sapphires
Families each sealed inside
The frail fortress peace of mind requires

A switch is snapped, and the borderline
Between night and day is gone
Between shifting sea and firm ground
Between savage and civilisation

Sleep guides unseen
Into new territory every night
Abandons us to what we keep
Enslaved within the hours of light

Written here for your benefit of knowing good poetry:

Write,
I tell myself,
in permanent ink
with cracked fingers
which never lie -
could they try -
to an empty mirror.

Hanging in the passage,
as you walk by
it does not glitter;
a suspicious smile,
perhaps a flicker.

Write,
I tell myself,
I did not say
it would be good.
For that will be the day.

>>18659499
As much as I like the giants/guidance rhyme, the intervening stuff in kinda nebulous. Good meter though.

>>18660041
Other anons will consider your unmoored pacing as a negative, but in general I like how it reads aloud. Only line four strikes me as being too much of a mouthful the flow naturally out of line. And maybe drop "the" in the final line.

>>18662051

What do you think of

That are standing tall like giants
Who are guarding silver holders
Only to be found with ancient guidance

>>18660041
Comes around as your usual black metal lyrics, honestly. Not that it's a bad thing.
>>18659499
Do more of this but without lyrical pathos of referring to some abstract "ancient guidance" that you don't elaborate on and it's a good naturalistic ballad.
>>18658486
This is good, but put more thought into the "plotline" structure because some of it feels as if you just stuffed the lines with repeating metaphors.
>>18657922
Love it, you got the idea and you transfer it clearly through the text.

ESL here, translated this from the original I wrote in my native tongue.

Actuality

Only walls are around and winter's outside.
There's just no way out, for many long years
You chase the mirage of true freedom and hide
From horrible nightmare in daydream frontiers.

Every wave that is crashing against the shore
Of the heart in the chest, stiffen and petrified,
Makes it just ever harder to have any hope or
to heartly believe in good turn of the tides.

To believe that some time or the other will crumble
This realm tightly chained in perpetual pain.
When the time doesn't heal you, but aimlessly stumble
Simply settling on windows of new flats again;

When the genuine stars are burning above you,
But their flicker disdains craving look of your eyes;
When you long lost the road back home from your tired view,
But, alas, only now managed to realize

That you're no longer able to pull back together
Yourself, 'cause there's nothing to pull anymore,
Loosing your mind to the hungering nether
You write down unsettling lexical gore —

This is all Actuality, piercing your daydreams,
Fills your fantasy world with its nightmarish show.
This bitter poison trapped in the blood stream
Will too never save you from this dreadful foe.

And you shall be breathing with smell of the summer
And alike with raw blanket of damp autumn earth.
It shall feed you the night dressed in very same glamour,
As the ships that were burning in skies for you both.

You shall gobble this wind interwoven with trickles
Of smoke from as if namely those cigarettes,
And web of the cold will again catch the ripple
Of the same winter morning's white light in its nets.

Every little detail rings with most bitter longing
And digs into the chest with a venomous sting.
Soul won't ever know peace, it is still firmly holding
This dire remembrance that no single thing

Could be ever brought back, not a day, not an instant,
Only mere spectral wraiths of ethereal dreams —
Its equivalent here just can not exists and
As this life has died, so have you by all means.

>>18662593
"Standing tall like giants" was good, the stress falls on "stands" and it flows well out of unstressed "-ers" on "boulders". You can drop the "who are" and leave it unaltered from your first version. In fact, the first version in general was totally fine meter-wise and sounded natural to read. The edits just add superfluous syllables. It's funny, this is a critique levied at my mid-thread edits.

To clarify: the silver holders line and the ancient guidance line just don't support one another well enough, IMHO. It isn't a problem of meter. Like, silver holders is just very specific and seems to beg further explanation. If what you're going for is just the mystique of a landscape, the scope of it, suggesting some kind of mythic presence, just change "silver holders" to something more generalized that stays in meter. I've got an ending for that occurs to me oh, but I won"t share it with you unasked. I don't want to lead you to anything that isn't authentic. Giving a man a fish, etc.

>>18662724
Please share the ending.
I’ll edit the second stanza, you are right it does take you out of the poem. I was going for a mysterious almos ufo like myth, that the narrator is imagining while he is just working on the desert.
>>18662674
Thanks anon

Is it normal to feel a sense of shame about writing poetry? I mean, I do not want my family to know that I write and do everything that I can to hide this fact. But they wouldn't even be against it and I have no reason to feel this way. I just don't like the idea of me writing poetry, but still I do it and cannot stop. Also zero people know that I wri2te.

>>18663749
Gotta put yourself out there at some point

>>18663749
>Is it normal to feel a sense of shame about writing poetry?
No, not really. I mean, it depends on what you write, but in general a person writes poetry when he feels like spewing it out. There's no sense of shame here it it's genuine and true.
>I mean, I do not want my family to know that I write and do everything that I can to hide this fact.
That's a different thing, I don't want that either because the feelings I transfer in my poetry are way too disconnected from my family life.

>>18663569
>>18659499
>That guarded [secret/hidden] treasures
Or
>That guard forbidden...
Or
>Stood watch on + top

Secret and hidden aren't particularly strong lead-ins oh, but I think a concept like treasure or knowledge that the giant imagery are guarding works better than silver holders. Unless silver holder is a reference to something that I'm just not party to, I am a card-carrying midwit.

>>18662674
I think you should post it in your native tongue maybe some anon can read it.
Really like the 1st and 7nth stanza.
The first stanza is great because it gives a grim setting, the isolation seems real.

I would also delete some unseeded words “stiffen” and a lot of the conjunctions

Great idea for a poem.

>>18664166
>I think you should post it in your native tongue maybe some anon can read it.
Doubt there's much Russian folk here, but anyway:
https://stihi.ru/2019/07/18/493
Posting a link in case you want to try to google translate it because I apparently have a slight form of OCD and crave for appreciation for not just writing it, but also translating it, since I know 4chan fucks up Cyrillic.
>Really like the 1st and 7nth stanza.
Your point for the 1st one I get, but the appreciation for the 7th one is out of nowhere, didn't think it can touch someone.
>The first stanza is great because it gives a grim setting, the isolation seems real.
It's funny because I usually write a 1st line and then the whole thing just unfathoms from there.
>I would also delete some unseeded words “stiffen”
Not sure what you mean here.
>and a lot of the conjunctions
They are mostly there for the syllable, but then again what difference does it make, is there a place where they seem out of place? Remind you, ESL, so it's an actual subject for me.
And thank you for responding.

>>18664166
>Great idea for a poem.
Oh my sweet summer child. It's not an idea, it's me puking out my feel about where my life goes after the love of my life, my actual bride, dropped out of my window on 17th floor.
Also, here's one I wrote directly in English. not sure if it makes a difference.

I see a million headed beast in every dream,
I'm tired of waking up at night with horrid screams.
And all I witness through the window is just clay
That fiercely reaches to achieve my mind's bay.

Each time I walk the streets I fear of every sound,
This nightmare never stops it goes on round and round.
This place of mine frozen in doubts shall I stand still
By the time poor kids of yours would bear your wretched will?

I see a million headed beast right by your back.
Still I am sane thanks only to a glass of "Jack".
Right at me stare its hungry eyes driving me mad,
But awes me most is that those eyes belong your head.

I see the truth beyond the daily masks you hide
And all the lies've been spread to multiply your tide.
The wells of Sun and Moon with no return are lost
For our kind living the life of pitiful ghost.

Away of loathsome plague into myself I run.
Among its empty barks how would not tremble one?
Each day outside my home those corpses do I find,
Though won't my fears care I know their swarm is blind.

Million heads of those beast as its own took,
Blind it is not, thus can through all of them it look.
I know it seems as long ago I've lost my mind
Though I have not, I know beast seeks my head to find.

Behind fake faces of just everyone I meet
It is awaiting every time I walk the street
To turn me one of you and take me in control
As its another dancing empty puppet doll.

But fear I can no more and neither I can flee,
The whole insane view is now revealed to me:
Too long ago for us it all was lost and done
And so in silence million headed beast had won.

The Brown Woman

'ware all ye lovers of sweetened treats,
The Brown Woman is lurking in the streets.

Biscuits and cakes, she'll wolf them down.
But this creature hungers for something a little more brown.

Milk, dark or flavoured, it matters not.
Whatever you have she'll eat the lot.

Close your windows and secure your locks.
Here she comes, muttering "choc choccy choc".

Before you know it, she'll be in your home,
Devouring your chocolate 'til it's all but gone.


The Pusch

It seldom wafts.
It's often warm and soft.


Happy Birthday, Darling.

"Sodomy is a sin", I cried.
As she poked it in.

>>18664677
Its alright.
Its a little drawn out.
You could trim it down in the middle

>I cried, "Sodomy is a sin".
>As she poked it in.
This sounds better.

Can I study just poetry?
>Want to study literature
>Have ADHD
>Can't stay still for more than 15 minutes, takes 3 months to read(superficially) an entry level book.
>Idea
>Poems are short, therefore studying poetry should be more suitable.
But can you actually do that? Studying just Poetry without touching any prose?

>>18665246
Sure. In fact I'd say mastering poetry will help you immensely down the line with prose. It's a very strict lesson in concrete language and acute word usage. And, perhaps indirectly, it'll help you understand why purple prose is often frowned on and what details are most important when writing prose.

>>18664444
Give us the details if care to, man. That's awful.

Show me the rolling hills
The mountainous land of Italy, of Austria
Of the Carpathians And the Hindu Kush
The sun bleached skin of soft marble
Curved and loving, smooth like silk
The sound of its movement an echo
How I want to die someday, locked between
Those twins of flowers, seeds of me, spilling
And I'll tell my God how I loved...

But alas ..

Ayo girl, you poop with that ass?

>>18665246
Study poetry bro, it’s intense,
Start with short poems. And you can watch some videos on poetry

>>18665318
>>18665694
Thanks, where do I start? Any particular book?