/lit/ - Literature

I call this one "ennui"

cashier number 6 please

cashier number 5 please

cashier number 8 please

cashier number 1 please

cashier number 7 please

cashier number 3 please

cashier number 6 please

cashier number 8 please

(cashiers number 4 and 9 are on their lunchbreaks)

cashier number 5 please

cashier number 2 please

cashier number 1 please

cashier number 3 please

I call this one Song of Vinland:
On placid shore
In Lofty throne

Through mountains cold
And roads of old

Past fields of gold
In green-crown’d wolds,

There spires rise
To pierce the skies

And grey-stoned Halls
Within the walls

There bear the flag
Of greatest land
That man doth rule

Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?

That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.

>>2319068
Yours captures the spirit of the mechanized modern world. I like it!

>>2319074
Yours evokes a feeling of dread, and of beauty at the same time. Sounds like Dunsany, or Lovecraft, or even Tolkien. Very well written!

More!

>>2319068

do you work at tj maxx

>>2319074
Guys, what do you think of mine? I want more feedback from someone other than the OP (no offense)

waterless whales become apparent.
reports of elephants filled with maggots
In Africa, near Tsavo.
human-wildlife
sand and perilous
a few upright figures of human-elephant,
no longer milk dependant
subsequently attacked
for profit.
the number, heavily hypnotic,
angry about losing.

>>2319074
I thoroughly enjoyed this. Thank you, sir.

>>2319084
Nice attention to syllabic counts. I would criticise your subject matter though - I haven't "learnt" anything. You could be describing the setting from any generic fantasy novel or video game. There is no striking observation. Also, there's nothing inherently poetic about old-fashioned language. In fact, I would even say that your high-flung tone is designed to mask the absence of content in your poem.

All in all, nice technical skill, disappointing absence of meaning.

>>2319117
Seconded

>>2319125

Thirded. Other than the title, there's little to draw attention to the comparisons that I think you're trying to make, between Vinland and America.

>Of greatest land
>That man doth rule

sticks in my craw a bit as well. I'd avoid doths and prithees as much as possible, they rarely help a poem, and we've moved on since Keats.

I'd give it a 4/10

120.
Your arms and mine are
a harbor to each others' bodies.
We are closed and warm
and are arranged circular
in square rooms
whose grey walls absorb the lucid
bluegreen of your irises
and bend, refract against my glasses.
Your feet and mine impress
the knotted carpet fibers,
spotted irregular

>>2319117
Well, this poem of mine, it's just one in a series of them. You know, they make sense if you read them together. But, thanks for the review.

>>2319164
You're Corazon di Poeta aren't you? Or however you spell it.

104.
Senescent light, fluid
did surround you
in its liquid warmth;
you separate from
the atmospheric strata.
Back and forth you are
rocking on your feet
(on the terra firmae)
keeping polyrhythmic time with
your capillary beat

>>2319147
I like yours.
Come on, people, keep posting poems.
I like reading them!i

>>2319108
a little bit too 'word association' for me

Is it okay to steal a phrase? I want to use a variation on the line "Their rubber hammer strikes the sea" from a Dadaist poem as a refrain. Is this acceptable?

Is this what you cats call "allusion"?

Unexpected item in
bagging area
remove
this item
before
continuing

>>2319179
thanks much

93.
All organized linear;
all oblique along
optic vectors (spread before
me) you are
standing vertically
and recede toward singular
recollection. You were
reconciling geometry

Kilimanjaro no longer
carries snow along
her crown.
Contours of the
great rift valley
following no great
grand schema

I was horizontal
eyes along the ceiling
breathing as did
the ceiling surface seem to be
it receded
or was it i
descending slow comparatively

I want to travel to Mars
yet I cannot
get out of
my seat

>>2319076
your rhymes are a little too simple

>>2319076


everybody can stop posting poems. we have a winner. this is the very first time that I have ever read a poem posted by anon that I like. The meter is tight, the rhymes are tight and the imagery is evocative. This is so good I am halfway convinced it's stolen from somebody famous

>>2319207
I just googled it. It's AE Housman.

why are you not obsequious?
I punch you in the nose
but you still
don't fetch
my soup
(tomato)

what do I have to do
for you to heed
to my
demands?
(soup)

woman, do you not
think that I am
a man
who wants
sandwiches?
(and soup)

>>2319076
>>2319207

It's Housman, you fool.

>>2319212
shit. at least I had suspicion

>>2319074
too medieval

>>2319068
too 'bukowski'

My eyes burn and out pour little ashes
stared too hard, too long at your pleasing pose.
Itty-bitty bump of the bottom lip,
(leading up to a near-perfect nose)
and orbs half-concealed by long lashes:

Milky rings around little bits of bursts,
shadows surrounding pretty pirouettes
these stalactites' drops for my buried thirsts,
dreams pour unslept from reversed minarets.

Creamwhite coronas divert decision,
shine too fine, too bright round lovely dark spots.
Maybe one day you'll hear the holy book
(with savage myths this preening priest concocts)
of prayers for small miracles of fission:

Like nights spent without longing for lust,
a day passed within its entirety,
hesitant sweaty hand whollyhearted thrust
in reluctant palm's piercing piety.

Dance for your rain? But I don't dare dance!
Sing for our solstice? I can't simply sing!
Hope for fulfilled wish? With love I don't hope.

>>2319221
your rhyme and meter are too rigid.

>>2319215
Yes, it shows you're discerning.

>>2319218
Thanks for the feedback anon.

the slow sad snow smells
like it wears brown trousers

open a gate through the slow sad sleet
say something nice
for it remembers the blue jeans smell
and flaking without worry in the unmelting sky

the slow sad sleet lies like turds
on the forklift truck and the nightingale

say something nice
to the slow sad snow

Crasping fleigingly at my bothril
You clumpatriciously dorookt my cunth
Sediciously rosping my jokril
You jespingly brewded my month

>>2319226
Agreed.

>>2319226
not the author, but i somewhat disagree. he needs to move a few iambs around, but it's a nice meter

>>2319228
This is thoroughly amusing. I like it when poetry makes me laugh.

Your nipples are as pink
As a slice of smoked salmon
The iris of hairs around them
Are the legs of dismembered ants

>>2319229

the line "lies like turds" does exactly that but the rest of this is really neat

They clumsily clambered onto the bus,
two pretty proles polypropped -
three spirits, weusandours a tripod
held upright by a creaky-cranking crane of damnecessity
supporting their focal shared spine vertical.
They slowslouched to their seat,
slung their sacks to the ground, then they
pounced onto the blue felt,
their heavyhung heads together.
Sniffle... sniffle... sniffle...
Somnambubble boy is rocked to baby bashful bliss,
a romance of rambling unconscious in her shouldersling,
breaths heaving in and out through and within to out again.
Saying yes to their shared slow slumps as the motor moves us all, I watch:
sweet little sleepygirl lifts her head and kisses the skinny neck while
he wipes his nose on his jacketsleeve.
Their clothes, dotted with dirtbits,
are dark damp- it's the first dazzleday of Texas summerspring but
their sweat smells strangely clean.
Their lingering chins lazylimp towards each other,
nibble on nooks, crisp little crannies,
their eyelids drooping down, then slickly sliding back open.
My gristlygrumbles fade as I chew on the way
her eyes are open, but slumbering worship.
She puts her plaid pink cap on top his hip haircut,
it's lovely lovering all over their world;
I'm reminded that even the sick survive somehow.
Then the bus bumps a benevolent bounce to the left,
nothing was harmed, but now the heavyhurt
sags off the ribs in my chest:
the spell is broken,
I'm guessing they're on heroin.
Their caresses are frenzy slowed by a depressant.
He barely responds to her signs of affection.
She carried all their crap like a beast of burden.
My serenade to them's deceased; no longer la-di-da!
it's a tedious dirge for what I dreamed, a tuneless
luhhh-deeee-duhhhhh.

>>2319240
The last two lines wittily destroy the romance of the poem's opening. In less pretentious language, I lol'd. I would change the smoked salmon image though - salmon is a bit of cliche for describing something pink.

when i was five
i went fishing with my family
my dad caught a turtle
my mom caught a snapper
my brother caught a crab
i caught a whale

that night we ate crab
the next night we ate turtle
the next night we ate snapper
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale

>>2319252
Leave.

There goes Christmas lumber
down ditches
deepening
in an ordinary refinery.

There goes public decency
through times
teetering
on a blink’s verge.

There goes enlarged figure
past proclamations
petering
out an ultimate habit.

There go clock hands
aged august
attached
to a new old child.

Baby New Year:
So similar to last’s!

p.s. allahu akbar

>>2319252
>>2319252

You either think we won't recognise Tao Lin, or that we'll get into a rage.

You're wrong, and stupid.

>>2319252
I quite like it actually. It's pretty funny.

>>2319261
lol this is weird advice.

I like it, although if it wound up being printed in a book I would probably take off a few lines (depending on page and font size [who knows maybe more would need to be added for the effect you are probably going for])
gives a good sense of time and is a good foil to the rest of this tryhard poetry

>>2319274

http://seanlovelace.com/2008/08/25/tao-lin-vs-william-carlos-williams-in-an-epic-battle-of-irritatio
n/

Wordlessly, we roll around under the covers.
Just call me your completely confused lover.
Never been this lucky.
Always getting screwed.
So scared of hurt, and who wants to ruin the mood?
You're a goddess, a vision, and all that other stuff.
But I'll be damned if this isn't tough.

>>2319274
>>2319273

If you would be so kind, identify yourselves with tripcodes so I may never take advice from either of you again.

>>2319278

Jesus, what a dick.

>>2319276

That's not the link I meant.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QjcOK2T0lPo&feature=player_embedded#!

For Tao reading it himself - sometimes the "the next night we ate whale" goes on for ten minutes, depending on how much time he has, and how much he wants to troll.

I could never write poetry
or even speak well

When i try to write poetry
I was told i sound like Orwell

So now i'm half assing
a sad excuse of prose

Give me an F /lit/
Because my writing blows

>>2319278
hahahaha you are so socially retarded lol

Your dark green eyes penetrate mine
As you lean forward to kiss me
Time seemingly slowing suddenly
And the blood flowing as quickly to my face
As it does to my erection
I fear what your reaction will be
But you aren't phased
Your supple lips touch mine
Your tongue enters my mouth
I push you away
"When was the last time you
brushed your teeth
you disgusting
foul breathed
bitch"?

>>2319285
A +
way to internalize all your baseless angst and false sense of entitlement!

I admire the curves of your body
As you lie naked on my bed
Not a muscle stirring,
Not the faintest trace of a snore -
Completely unconscious of your nudity
Rest bring purity
Your milk-white skin
Against my crimson bedsheets
Makes me want to paint you as you lie here
But I can't
You're beginning to smell a bit and I ought bury you
Before the neighbours get suspicious

>>2319304

Pleasantly surprised by this, although the "rest bring purity" line sounds awkward.

>>2319307
It was supposed to be 'brings' but I made a typo. Still a bit awkward whatever the case, you're right.

>>2319304
lol yeah it's pretty good but do "brings" instead of "bring," it would flow better imo

>>2319310
o sorry didn't see this. chill.

>>2319263

Bumping mine, as I have been commenting on others. plz retrn favr so allah maie guied mie haend to eenfedells

>>2319252
okay tao

85.
You are convulsing in grief laughter little
death. Pulling chairoscoro-covers
as mountains around you
who move and accommodate; in the sunlight which
illuminate then their color. You do not
see it for closed eyes.
You heavy exhale as if
releasing volcanic cigarette dust into dusky skies

Mine is called 'Seventh Harlem'.

Do you choose to see at all,
and would you rather watch it fall?
The hate that emanates the late
and all whom yet to've shone,
for naught but folly,
receding holly,
turns the world to stone.

Sit down here and speak your plight
and tell me why your fight is right.
The love that radiates our fate
for all, or I alone
can't tell me how
we stand apart
from one another's own.

>>2319345
this is rife with cliché
>hate
>love
>turns to stone

give me an image of the real world to build upon

>>2319317

plz hlp
plz hlp
plz hlp
raep mie

>>2319277
sounds like lyrics from some pop punk band

Time's eternal gaze,
The light of passing days,
The beginning of the end,
Time knows how to mend
Broken hearts,
Failed starts,
Lost lives
And endless dives--
All can be saved
If the path can be paved
With the lights of
Other days,
If the doves can
Fly away,
Signal life
Filled with strife
To keep on living,
Endless hearts to
Keep on giving,
And maybe, just maybe,
If we keep our faith in time,
We can bravely, oh so bravely,
Face our fears, admit our crime,
And walk into a better land,
Crystalline like grains of sand.

>>2319367

ladies and gentlemen, 2012's "gayest poem of the year" award winner!

she is golden,
this daughter of america
legs twisted,
nose bookbound,
moving, constantly moving,
perhaps for me.
two arms touch
and she smiles.
we both smile, but
only i
hold my breath.
her eyes flicker
and her chest rolls
out a single
laugh,
a sweet winged
syllable
and I feel her linger
in that moment.
i thank some foreign god
for this girl made of honey,
this golden daughter of america
and I linger as well.

"Where" is a funny concept, sometimes. Where
Did I leave those keys? Where are
All the people? Where has
The hope gone away to? Where's the
Light? Where's the faith? Where's the life? Where'd it all
Go?

>>2319367
So many clichés. Holy shit.

It was my fault
And she wasn’t perfect but she loved me

It bores it
Worms like a hot white wire squirms
Beneath my chafed skin

Like the sting of an aching tooth stabbed by a wiry dental hook
Pick, pick, pick at the soft enamel

And I cannot claw it out

Until


Pause


Then

Through dull bloody aching hurt
It screams again

Remember, before you decide
To do something stupid like
Open your skull, cure your headache with
The best .30 calibur aspirin available,
Shades drawn against the peering, curious windows
And doors secured against well-meaning intruders,
Let yourself remember that the intruders
The doors keep out are good people, who care for you; they're the sun's
Light shining on your face, making you feel warm inside. Please let them
In.

>>2319386

This poem has real potential. I would like to see that long line broken up; I think it's a little ham-fisted as it is.

>>2319389
Oh, right. This one is called "Let the Light in." Forgot to add the title, sorry.

>>2319380
Where do you buy your weed?

Firstrain.

Drops

Drops dripdropping dipping into the splash of dripped drops on the black roof, over
Green lichens sipping soaking swelling in the cold rainwater.

Patters on the window.
The rain strains in vain,
To reach me.

Her, per
Usual she
Wet,
wet hair,
wet eyes cried that time by my side I
felt strong then, stronger than I had before, like I was more like a man than before.
Her eyes her warmth her smell like wet flowers in the first rain of March
Spinning together holding her holding me in the rain the rain the rain

>>2319393
I don't smoke dope, sorry. I drink quite a bit, though.

Terra nova; terra incognita; terra aegra

It’s true – the dense immensity
Of this oily electric sea,
It makes an Atlas out of me –
And oh! How I wish to be free!

But it’s like with each whirr and click
Of the mouse and each crunch of the drive,
I can’t escape the house, I feel sick;
Feel like the only way up is to look down and dive –

It feels like quicksand, like broken gravity,
I try to surface, but the ugly screen makes a slug of me –
Like a bamboozled chimp, I sit dazed,
Mind crazed, eyes fazed, feeling blazed, trying to dream of ways

Out. Can’t do anything but doubt.
Crippling self-awareness: too scared to shout
My frustration, to reveal my pain, so I sit in the window frame,
Wishing someone came, wishing I wasn’t so lame, wishing I could win this vaguely-defined game.

But I’ll lose – I was born a century too late,
The bastard child of Dame Misfortune and the absent father Fate.
Tough not to fall into a cycle of hate, but shit:
Let’s face it: these electric opiates that choke us? They’re all we’ll get.

Might as well fall out that window now –
It’s the only way how one can die with dignity.
I’ve too much pride to suck in my expanding gut and bow
To an interface designed to replace the way I see.

Time to drown in the choking oil,
No more watching the sun set like Hopkins’ shook foil,
Say good night, have no fright,
Abandon the fight – at least the screen is bright.

Bump. This thread is... interesting. Yes, definitely interesting.

Here's mine:

I saw you sitting up there all alone,
Like a huddled vagabond cringing for warmth,
Sad and weary-eyed you sit surrounded by clouds of dust,
It makes me want to cry, shout, moan.

Why do I only see you when I am sleepy?
Those within me wish to stay with you, watch you, be there,
Those inside just stand and observe nothingness happening.
I never see you with eyes steamy, only with mine gleaming.

Seventeen more than fifty, yet only fourpointfour.
I live with trappers, yet you live with nil.
Dimples on your face, dark on the back.
I hope my observing is never a chore.

I wish to give my jacket to you, the cold look of your eyes your soul.
I sit in the meadow of my mind, just to close my eyes and be there
An everlasting triumph to be with you.
To make you as happy as you make me is my goal.

To be with you means death, but I’ve got the help of my God.
One day I’ll sit there playing with your dust dancing with your rotation,
Unending trumpets can only play when we can finally live together,
But in the land I can never leave to be in lands untrod,
I saw you sitting up there all alone.

bump for criticism

She made me feel like poetry wasn’t enough.
When we listened to Jeff Buckley cry ‘Hallelujah,’
And watched Sigur Ros sync with Electric Sheep
In a dusty disused parlor room, sitting still before the laptop laid on a worn and carved old desk,
Facing full length windows struck with fat drops of the autumn rain,
While gray clouds darkened the red and gold leaves hanging from black branches,
Ignoring the moving world

I sat and she leaned on me,
Winding her arms around my chest and the music soared and I felt her heart pound on my neck
And I knew only that I wanted more than anything
To write something that would make her heart pound like that.
I can still feel it, hot on my warm neck in the dust against the dusky rain.

I smell her breath and feel her hair,
Sliding down the front of my shirt,
And I feel her lips resting softly against my eyes
And hear her breathe in the dark mornings
When I couldn’t sleep for fear I would lose my waking dreams.

She begged me to be real and I tried but we died and she cried.

I could not stop dreaming, could not live in the world of concrete reality –
How could I, when she, reality spun from a fervid, half-believed and worshipped dream, waited for me?

She was like tea in October,
When death is in the air and pumpkins are on the table and you don’t care,
Because what you hold in your hands is hot and strong and sweet and makes you feel alive,
And you don’t want to let it go.

It’s hazy now, but they still come to me,
The sensual memories and pangs of moments passed,
Scenes from around the world and the promises we made.

But I wasn’t enough to give her what she gave me:
Yellowed visions of autumn days and winter nights,
Early morning sighs of contentment that haunt me even today, and made me write this,
Even if it fails to make her heart beat as fast and hard as her music.

122.
You disrobe the windows of
my bedroom from within,
sit there on my sheets, your
feet crossed beneath you
,absorbing the unseasonable warmth

You are the pads of
your fingertips,firm to the glass
then sit back and laugh

>>2319379

Meh.

>>2319471

I thoroughly enjoyed this.

You are incredibly beautiful
So refined and athletic, of true pedigree too
You were made by the hands of God
My cock is harder than rock
As your face rests on my crotch
You know just how to tease me
I kiss you behind your ears
You lift your head closer to my lips
Then I quickly jab a finger in your anus
Your claws dig deep into my thighs
As I hold you buy the scruff
You hiss and miaow with all your might

>>2319471
thanks, I'm going to steal this

I'm gonna stick my cock in you
Right where you do a poo.

It's a work in progress, obviously.

>>2319566
couplet for a loving couple

I jumped Jesus Christ in Central Park. Pausin' to place my hand on his face I felt my soul leave his body.
"We all got God inside us" I said, looking through his wallet and takin all his bread.
"Boy, look at that photo"
"Yeah the lighting at the DMV is always so awful"
We put his body behind some bushes tingled as our fingers felt the whiskers on his face frantic as a cop boy came to pace we looked all around for our saving grace but then we looked down and remembered our place. So we ran down seven levels to the center of hell and tried to put out the inferno fire with our spit Hail Marry it's hot in here we shouted pouted makin' faces as Satan sat up and gave us a look that could melt your heartstrings and our mouths were suddenly so full of blood that we were drunk and drowned in it.
Next thing ya know we were ascended to heaven and god was saying to his angel friends "at least he didn't kill anyone"

Why do I get the feeling that most of the poems produced on 4chan are written in between clicks to porn sites, and typed out with sticky fingers?

Crust Punk
My girlfriend got gangrene and I had to bite her left leg off, left me without an able bodied girl so I went lookin' for a new one.
Wound up outside the Lusty Lady played me, it said free admission and I was expectin' some cheap babes on racks but I ended up runnin' up my total to seventy five dollars and 35 cents when I accidently fell asleep in one of the booths and now I think I'm probably traumatized, the sight of her thighs on the insides of my eyes. Candy came out and asked the front man who the big boy in booth three was cuz I guess my snoring got so loud she couldn't find her "groove in the music" or something gross like that, anyway I left and it was late, stood up a new girl for out first date
She said don't be late and it was late and the Lusty Lady stole all my pocket change.
So whatever.
So whatever, I went home and my girl was still crying and I said "Shut up yr lucky I'm broke" and then we joked about problems we had in the past (thank god there behind us standing on one leg on the street corner) while we ate lots of popcorn from a big tub and watched The Simpsons.
In the morning I grabbed her leg from the street corner and stitched it back on with dental floss. Then we went down to the store and stepped in all the puddles from the rain the night before.

>>2319588
because you're projecting.

>>2319594

That would be hilarious, but I haven't posted any poetry. I've just written a couple of critiques, anon.

Sticky fingers -- guilty as charged though.

captcha ediaal mercutio

>>2319613
yeah to be honest I do my best to separate jerking off with /lit/. If I'm waiting for a vid to buffer I usually go to Wikipedia. /lit/ is kind of a boner killer.

Roses are red
Violets are blue
How does one write a haiku?

>>2319590
I'm not sure how to feel about this.
7/10. Some parts of it were 9/10 but others were 5/10.
So 7 is your average. Enjoy.

There once was a faggot named OP
Whose number one fear was a cop
He liked little boys
So he gave them some toys
In prison he was the bitch.

>>2320041
You don't understand how limericks work and your rhyming is awful.

>>>>ck

>>2320012
thanks dawg! yeah it's pretty old and I never really edited but I def felt inspired when I first spewed it out.

>>2320041
potential and then it all drops in the last line :(
you might think it's funny to write a bad ending to a good limerick, but it's not.

Where could I have been that witness of an eternity of belittling woes?

We sought to retrieve the very soul of the world

In a warm place where dreams could be picked from trees like apples

Where I could be set against the stars as bright or as horrible as any God

And a God I should be for we assume the best of them

The wisest and most powerful

As you should have assumed the best of me

Where could I have been that eternal witness

Where a second would never end

And moments die like mountains higher than wispy clouds

All along we were the insipid wonders of this land

We baked food of folly and we wrought wars of peace

Can we be so kinetic in our motionlessness that we tear the seams of reality

I will only speak in the broader senses of cosmos

And not in the intricacies of ants and mice

I know now that I have witnessed not the soul of the world

For an eternity I have only looked in a mirror

Where moments die like flies

>>2321535 2/2

Bromosexual, you could say
The bond two bros share
Like Shaquille Bro'Neal
Broseff Stalin
Brobocop
Brothello
Brotozoas
Brover Cleveland
Franklin Delanbro Brosevelt
But he won’t get Brolio
Lets play some Bro and Tell
Because we’re Brofessonal
Like Tom Brokaw, Sherlock Brolmes, Abroham Lincoln
And Rocky Balbroa
But it’s brokay if you are broing insane
All these bro puns just won’t end
Not until the wind bros away for this rainbrow
Not until we get David Browie in here
And make implications with George Brostanza

So pass the chips, dive into the macabroni and cheese
Don’t forget the Brocolli
Or the Broast in the Broaster Oven
And rip open some Brozen Brogurt
And blare those Broheed jams
Because I am making a Brocumentary
While we take a brake from this Bronanza
I’ll get some Brobatussin if you need
No need to brover react
It’s not like you’re on Death Brow
Today will just broll into tomorrbro
I’ll just Bro-tate the tires on this Chevbrolet Camarbro
And wash my Yellbrow Sail Broat
Slap my Brogo on the side like slapping dem rocks outta Charles Barkley’s hands
Because if there is one thing I brow about life, it’s a ball
And withbrout my bro
There would be little point at all

A Brode to my Bro 1/2

O Bromeo, Bromeo where art thou Bromeo?
Broseidon, God of the Brocean, wilt thou hear my calls?
In the Brool Bus, ye must be
My Bro, the one and bronly, bro of mine
But I shall find thou in other places
At Brome
And at sea
When I am making sick nasty dunks in an alley ‘oop to the hoop
Wherever I bro, my Bro is with me
In my heart, in my Broul

And what is a Bro without his bro?
What would I be withbrout mine?
A miserable pile of secrets
When I should be a Bromosapien
Pulling broff delirious combros
With crossbrows
Or even doing the congbro
Whist playing the bongbros
While my bro, does the Brobot
In a facade of Bro Dancing
That mystifies non-brolievers

And while I brow this brotato soup is hard to swallbro
I think everyone would be better broff with a bro
Scrubs, I brow, said it best in the song, “Guy Love”

“Guy love,
That's all it is,
Guy love,
He's mine, I'm his,
There's nothing gay about it in our eyes.
It's guy love,
Between two guys.
And when I say, ‘I love you, Turk,’
It's not what it implies.
It's guy love
Between
Two
Guys”

>>2321538
This poem is too broken up.

I dont want to start a new thread so i'll as for advice here.

I'm working on a singable translation of the himno de Riego, the anthem of the spanish republic.

This is what i got http://freetexthost.com/4vhyucy0hm

I think it sucks

A boy in a hot air balloon floats away,

30000 children die.

crystallized angel dust and lies,

children born never to play.

meaning is jammed into the meaningless;

found by the ones who couldn’t care less,

meaning is jammed into the meaningless;

shoved down the throats of the ones who couldn’t care more.

explosions of sorrow and cruelty,

blanketed by the enormous wings of the white dove.

with wings spread it soars high above,

selecting which rays of light reach our eyes.

a short marriage captured in photos,

with not a single glimpse of entire genocides.

thousands of words exchanged from behind pedestals;

who’s even listening?