/lit/ - Literature

1/15

We were battered refugees seeking an isle of immaculate affection,
Fleeing a warzone world peopled by fascists and demons
Snarling and spitting their sour seductions of complacency and order.
We barricaded ourselves away to form our cramped encampment,
A hefty mattress plopped down on the tile, trinkets and rations strewn in disarray,
Organically organized, like a bed of moss or a sea of wildflowers.
Our spirits crashing in foaming waves of bliss, bursting like plump dandelion heads,
Blustering tufts of fuzz fertilizing our racing exuberant hearts.

In the daylight of our communal soul, our jittery Gypsy feet grew restless,
Wandering between imposing stacks of rules and bricks,
Expatriates scorning bitter fields of greed and indolence blanketing the Motherland,
Stoops and stoges a temporary visa to our netherworld
Awash in dusky tangles of pagan contemplations.
Oh what a lustrous boundless city we constructed in our exile,
A meandering utopia with naught but our bodies for borders.

>>3301811

don't give her poems give the dick. Do you really think think that this will make her come back with you? You are a faggot stop this now do not press send you faggot

2/15

Sparkling pixies stir in secret the inebriating brews of this world,
Flitting from branch to branch beneath gossamer wings,
Flinging seeds of wonder here and there about the countryside,
Sprinkling their chosen few in fragrant stews of destiny,
Returning each night to the heart of their hidden woodland shrine,
Resting nestled between the leaves of grand flourishing rowans.

Two ragamuffins crossed within their fair lush country,
Searching out sanctuary from the glare of a wicked stepmother,
Each seeking a wide sky and each other's arms as their calming cradle.
The pixies cast their smiles on the pair,
Shooting corkscrewing waves of deep green magic down through their slight fingertips,
Whooshing to and fro above the lovers' haloed heads,
Letting out twinkling laughs that sent chills plunging down the lovers' spines.
Then they landed to parade the moist ground, warming the Earth with their rapid dancing feet.

They whittled small pointed rapiers from twigs and chestnuts,
Swinging and saluting, hailing a coruscating coronation,
Singing riotous anthems of royalty in ancient sonorous tongues,
A silver-sheathed fabric of brilliance covering their convivialities.
They flew with crowns of fronds and berries, placing them with delicacy atop the lover's disheveled locks.
All the world's petty playactors were transfigured to snorting mules before their new-found majesty.
A dream-flower sprouted, poking its yawning face through a patched of magic soil,
Poems pure and fair etched in winding script across its petals:
“A gift of gracious life, O Faerie Queen and Little King.
May courts of sprites and pucks be near you, ever on the wing.”

>>3301824
I am currently in Mississippi while she is in North Carolina. I have already sent the poems through the physical mailing service. Rest assured that when we were living together, I gave her the dick often and with great skill. Also, my writing is one of the things which first attracted her to me, so it isn't exactly a terrible idea. In any case, the deed is done, now I'm just wondering what like-minded /lit/izens think of my writing.

3/15

Straddling the back of deep Southern fogs,
You arrive beneath my eyelids at the dark apex of night,
Soft misty visions cranked by some angelic clockwork.
I dare to hope you too are dreaming of me,
Our astral bodies entwined at their deepest seams,
Whirling through a wistful waltz of golden yesterdays
We sprint and fly and lay in gorgeous unity those nights
As though these bulging hearts were never torn asunder.
Sprawled in deep and dewy Elysian fields,
Our fingers lock, and I savor the heady draught of your touch
Which shocks my every coiled nerve to slacken in the echo
Of the throaty hymns of a blooming Earth cloaking our sacred meadow.

4/15

I pondered my psyche and spewed my dissociative ramblings:
“A male lesbian, perhaps,” I said. “Or some androgynous creature of half-forms.”
You turned to me, your roasted-almond eyes sizzling
And murmured, “I think you're all man.”
Your delectable voice dripping in hues of blushing pink,
In lovely loving feminine sincerity.

A man I am, yes, a man! Proud and solid,
Moving mountains with granite candor and broad strokes.
To be a man! To be a sturdy pillar weathering the tempest.
To move in bold strides, crafting and molding instruments of power,
Grinding against the gristled world to carve smooth splendorous realities to fresh-faced being.
To be a wolfish warrior of the Sun
Who growls and claws 'til darkness flees weeping and frees the ransomed Light.
To cast my stalwart sails against unforgiving winds,
Pulling on fraying ropes, savoring the briny spray of seafoam,
Bending to my will a splintering leviathan rollicking on a rambunctious ocean.

To be a man with – O grander still! – a woman grafted to my vine,
A woman crisp and vigorous as the wanton winds
Yet cool and cleansing as a trickling forest stream.
To meet my wholeness in the valleys of your curving twisting form,
To state my throbbing case against them 'til passions leave us warm and worn.
I'm transfixed by your womanly wonders, your prodding eyes which smolder as they see
The roaring manhood bursting from this boyish bundle of me.

>>3301811
If she doesn't get a restraining order, I will be amazed.

>>3301835

I'n your america can you get mail tracking to stop mail because I do not think that this will work and I am serb.

5/15

We sat, cross-legged and flurry-eyed,
Slurping down steaming crimson soup, a heartening buttery concoction
Still sweating from its culinary dance with your keen graceful hands,
While sweet wine swept in torrents down our throats
Awakening us to Dionysian wonders prowling through the underbrush.
Looping conversation laid bare our patchwork souls,
Our lofty thoughts racing up to sprint and swirl
Through the cool fresh air crowning the noble treetops.
The cagey stilted portions of my mind wriggled free from their rusty chains,
Ensnared in their stead by your lively delights,
Waistdeep in your charms which trickled like honey,
Soothing my tongue of the tart terrors of an acerbic world.

The sum of our shared days pulses in reverie through this rosy memory,
A fractal fragment of our tandem tapestry.
Gloried spectacles zig-zag in rivulets through the babbling brook.
Resounding chords of kismet flow through our mirthful chatter.
Our marvelous future reverberates off of solemn-eyed stumps in bewildering contrapuntal chorus.
Rustling bushes and fiddling crickets send symphonies of premonitions through the wild.
A plethora of rarefied beauties contained in a solitary sip of soup, a single fragrant drop of wine.

>>3301852
>flurry-eyed

6/15

O sweet Sariswatti, strum us a river to float upon!
We'll bob and lurch atop the waves of your mesmerizing melodies,
Dipping our hands to stir our reflections into dizzying portraits of pleasure,
Spheres of wisdom and harmony bubbling up from our fingertips.
O steer us past towering mountains and burnished glens
Where deep love is spun like wispy billows of cotton against Nature's whirring wheel.
Then send your stream cascading upward, into the gulping throat of the gaping sky,
Gurgling and churning amidst the high howling winds,
Flowing past screeching shivering banshees of pressure and atmosphere.

O let us swim your holy refrains to the violet outskirts of our universe,
Riding wild orbits through the humming vortex,
Shouting joys and woes across the vaulted void
As troupes of comets pirouette above, sketching auroral abstracts with their twinkling tails.
Speeding meteors and pulsating galaxies ornament my lover's cosmic crown,
Her form pliant and effulgent as if chipped from celestial marble
And dripping with all the fierce fecundity of supernovas.

Let her and I mingle in tantric bliss, O melodious priestess,
Wings sprouting from our spasming spines beneath a tent of tessellations,
Our fractalizing joys expanding into nebulae,
Swirling like a thousand oceans, sparkling like a thousand diamonds.
O bind us in a covenant of the heavens,
Rapt in each other's gaze as our rolling thrusts beatify the glittering sky,
A solar flare emitting a roaring ring of flame to bind itself about my beloved's finger,
Songs of Sariswatti leaping to crescendo, ringing in our ears like crazed angel choirs:
“Glory, glory, glory in the highest!
And on Earth, this purest peace:
To sink into slumber below screaming starlight, swaddled in a tender lover's grasp.”

7/15

Something glorious guided my flight that moon-drenched night,
Gliding past that upstairs window so soaked in her adventurous glow.
I swept in, seeking glue for a shattered self.
She sewed me together with crafty able fingers,
The waves of her hair gleaming in the trickles o moonlight
Like the gentle murmuring tides of a mermaid lagoon.

With one look, I knew she could fly and showed her so.
Soon we were swimming the boundless night sky,
Her warm dark eyes outshining an entire tapestry of constellations
As we brashly laughed and crowed our bliss at that shimmering second star
Guiding us to an ageless Never Land dangling from the smooth bright horizon.

8/15

This is my task, to find forgetfulness,
Pouring concrete in the gaping cracks of day
Where once your spoken rhythms set alight my coiled filaments;
Numbing my skin in morning coats of frost
Where once your blessed fingers slithered and left me spellbound;
Calming the thumping and thrashing of a sagging heart
Which once your ravishing smile sent into reeling palpitations.

I set about to account for my loss:
Countless goblets brimming with your bubbling words,
Ribbons of whispers, hordes and heaps of laughter,
Legions of synchronized breaths above interlocking hands,
Innumerable transporting kisses, minty balm for these quivering lips,
A portion of my very soul, separated by a cotton-and-tobacco sea of Dixie waving farewells in the wind.

But O for this fractured soul to reconjoin!
What a brassy Jubilee will the golden trumpets sound that day!
Each embrace enriched,
Each shared glance sending giddy frissons across this boisterous body,
Each kiss exposed in the pulse of its pricelessness,
Your every smile a rapturous moonbeam casting silver shades of exaltation.
This searing jagged fracture may seem worth it yet
For the richer blends of Love our reunited souls shall swallow.

9/15

A creek runs through the center of their love,
Wide and rushing, splashing the embankments,
Spreading wondrous fluid feeling all about their vast wilderness.
She leaps into the creek, a frenzied spree of gleeful freedom.
From atop an earthy slope, he admires her liquid graces,
Her exhilarating curves melting and melding with the water's swerving flow,
Her buoyant heart casting pale rippling reflections through the lantern of her radiant smile.

High above, he watches violet vapors congeal
To a sublime and holy apparition, soaked in beautiful terrible feminine hexes and charms.
She shines with all the rabid magic of the woodlands,
Tall as the trees, her pointed cap swatting at the sea of clouds,
Maiden, Mother and Crone all present in her fearsome gaze.
Her arms spread open wide in an arc of providence,
Witchy wonders raining down to sanctify the murky waters.
With a voice that sends shivers through the leaves and reeds, she speaks her solemn piece:

“This is my Beloved, her feet flirting with the undertow.
Cherokee enchantress, Maiden of the Sweetest Poisoned Sting,
Who walks through walls to chase her impish dreams to distant realms,
Who shouts defiance at the pestering spirits as she dashes and kicks up dirt at the borrowing winds,
Who spews and sprays moaning lunatic ecstasies,
Brightening and softening the darkest sharpest corners of this land.
Hold fast to her, and love her as you love the blossoming Earth herself.”

From that day on, their creek flowed swifter still,
New-baptized in the crooked elegance of a Goddess's zeal.

10/15

Water rises, droplets levitating towards the rippling heavens.
Above it mingles with the rushing winds, swept up in its swooning madcap dance.
Sharp shockwaves spin and stir amidst the blue and grey
As the dark clouds hover and sway, peering pensively at dry weary ground.
Their sinewy shoulders grow laden with burden. They bust open wide,
Shooting mystic sparks and healing rains down at the groaning grass,
Soaking all who brave the downpour in sweet electric passions -
Drenched in thunderous blessings delivered by the Most High Sky -
Renewing their soggying minds, refreshing their sopping senses,
Loosening locked lips to share a brief eternal kiss beneath plummeting showers.

11/15

My exiled hopes still hang suspended there,
There in that house knotted up in scarlet strings of luscious passions,
Nestled in the hills of Bethel, where we wrestled angels 'til the red dawn leapt alive,
Our bodies ablaze like dancing flames as they licked tingling burns at the flushed cheeks of euphoria;
Where we sucked down burning bunches of leaves at our communion table,
The beaming sun winking slyly off your spectacles;
Where a resplendent deck of omens illuminated dim pathways
And tumbling wheels of ancient symbols spun knowing orbits 'round our strides;
Where flavors oozed and blended atop sizzling stovetops,
Brave new kitchen witchery spewing peppered scents through the smoky air;
Where a feral kitten roamed and purred her pure feline affection,
Content to cuddle up in agape vibrations pulsing all about our clustered clan;
Where showers of stardust drenched our swiveling eyes and rollicking hearts
As we lay atop that gangly-legged dock scraping a scintillating sea of sky.

That house stands as a blinding beacon of bouncing reflections and stinging remedies,
A place where daring dreams and flowering friendships took emboldened flight,
But now my feet stumble in trespassing steps 'cross that carpet
And only the kitten acknowledges me with delight.

1215

It isn't my pain that aches.
I bear mine as a weighty penance,
Like a heavy pack on a tense flexing back,
clenching my chattering teeth, balling my jittery fists,
An intricate steel framework of resolve pinching my insides.

Your hurt seems far more wretched to bear,
A hurtling ton of your salty tears, numbed shock, fragments of a severed trust
Dropped squarely on my head from the skyscraping heights where once we soared.
My skull cracks from the brunt of it,
My mind's juices oozing onto the cruel dry pavement.
How to hold in the fuming pressure of your pain?
A cloud of shamed regret swells and rages within me,
Bloating my conscience to bursting 'til it explodes in a toxic fireworks show,
Red and blue sparks raining down to brand self-loathing in my flesh.

Shall I sever my lying tongue from the poisoned root
And smash it to pink paste against the floor?
Shall I wander the woods in search of drooling beasts
To maul me to shreds, specks of unworthy love spurting and muddying the dirt?
From the garage, my grand-dad's shotgun rasps fanged lullabies:
A click, a bang, a splatter then I'm through,
Fleeing to join you in another life when due.
Oh God, my God, what else for me to do?

How I long to be the one to bandage your scraped-up soul,
To have and to hold you, to cradle you in an everlasting embrace.
But how for you to trust your heart won't slip my grip, careening to the floor,
My clumsy groping set to pierce and puncture it anew?
For now, I'll grunt and nimbly solider through
Hoping I'll someday, somehow, repay what's due.
Oh God, my God, what else for me to do?

13/15

In solitude I may much strength accrue
Yet O! the things I long to be for you!

A surging fountain of youthful exuberance,
Wholesome drink for when your singing throat grows tense and parched.
A candle to dispel dark trepidations,
Warming your trembling fingers in my fiery affection.
A twinkling wind chime, stirring numinous chords from your beguiling breezes of fervor,
Spinning webs of esoteric nocturnes to drape across the countryside.
A magic carpet upon which you lounge in your loveliness
As we rise to lofty heights and sights of panoramic vistas.
An untamable sea of caring caresses,
A place to wash away your fears and woes amidst oceanic eternity.
An industrious poet scribbling the ephemeral wonders of our every moment,
Longing to archive our glories an perils for all the jealous world to know.
A firm foundation for your aching feet,
Enriched soil wherein you dig your heels and sink your roots.
A prism transmuting your illumined beams
To Technicolor spectrums tinging all your world in splendid hues.

As days flow by, the gaps grow slight and few
'Tween what I am and what I long to be for you.

14/15

You ask me, “Where are our poems?
The anthems of our waifish wanderings,
A scribing of the wailing joys that leap between our souls?”
I reply, “My words are churned in spirals up from the spine-smashing depths.
They drip from sharp spikes in slimy slippery caverns
Where hurt and loss leech startling hymns from my heaving chest.”
So you stabbed me deep with your glinting citrine crystal
And poetry spilled out the gushing wound.

I suppose I should give thanks for this verbal deluge,
The harsh vibrant autumn canopy emerging from my mangled flesh.
Once more, you've yanked me from abysmal pits
To peer from such great heights at Love's grand mystifying footwork,
Still wounded as I weave this crown of flowers
Yet awestruck in the glow of kaleidoscope visions of Home.

15/15

You clasped my hands, our palms brushed one last time
And with sad eyes you whispered, “Promise me you won't forget.”
I've wrestled and tumbled with this promise,
Longing to squeeze my mind clean, to eke out the last ambrosial drop of you,
But your fingers linger on my skin, and your face left persistent films splayed across my vision.

So do me a favor, lover.
Seek out my ghost in the quiet moments.
Listen to our favorite songs.
Ponder the rooms where amorous sparks flew to and fro and scorched the ceilings.
Wander our shared memories so they won't dim and lose their luster.
Stoke and feed our fire, lest it be snuffed to dying embers.
Remember the feeling of us, us, us,
And know that I'm here, dwelling in our forevers.

And there it is, /lit/. Comments and constructive criticisms are gladly welcomed!

>>3301811
>Hello /lit/izens. I recently wrote a series of 15 poems and sent them to my ex-girlfriend

Brilliant idea - bound to work. Women love crazy stalkers.

I'm not reading this screeds of shit though, and neither will she, unless she's laughing at them with the guy she's banging now.

Will possibly be held against you in court one day, I suspect.

holy shit I just re-read your post OP. These are for your EX gf??

ABORT ABORT ABORT

seriously, this is the moment that you will look back on for the rest of your life, and wish you hadn't sent them.

and frankly, it doesn't even matter if the poems are good or not. It's the idea that you've sent 15 love poems to an ex girlfriend.

>>3301811

just showed my mom this, she basically said you are a massive faggot who is about to get arrested for stalking

>>3301949
>>3301938
>>3301850
>>3301846
3 things:
A. As I mentioned, the poems were accompanied by a prefacing letter. The letter in question made it clear that I was happy and well-adjusted, and that these poems were sent as a sincere gift and not as any kind of attempt at manipulation or an act of desperation.
B. When we were together, one of the first things that attracted her to me was my writing. While we were together, one of her common complaints was that I didn't write many poems about her. This is merely my attempt at bridging that gap.
C. Our break-up was on a very tentative basis and we still communicate - albeit tersely - on a fairly regular basis. One of the reasons we broke up was because we were both becoming lazy decadent potheads and that I had ceased being productive, and I was writing very little and seeming to lose my creative and existential spark. These poems are sort of a good faith gesture showing her my life is getting back on track, creatively speaking.

>>3301973
>>3301973

>yfw your mom is his ex-gf and she's already read them.

>>3301980

Oh well then, in that case it's a fantastic idea. Bound to work.

Why are you expecting us to read them again?

>>3301980

HUH GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY

>not as any kind of attempt at manipulation or an act of desperation.

Hard to believe.

i can't get into poetry like this

just seems so damn overly-verbose and, in most cases, pedantic.

Your writing is a little uneven but not all that bad, anon.

It does seem to me that sending these is a kind of an act of desperation no matter how ya slice it. But you seem confident the context is appropriate. So either you're right and know things about the situation we don't, or you're delusional (which honestly seems more likely).

Either way I hope this bitch at least gives you an E for Effort, cause like I said they ain't half-bad.

i hope you didn't type this and wrote it in elegant cursive with a fountain ink pen

>>3302016
what kind of poetry do you like?

>>3301818
>>3301844
>>3301852
These three are quite good.

I didn't read them all, but the others I skimmed through could use some more tightening and focus. Some of them an entire structural overhaul. But you've got some talent anon, it's a shame you're using it for creepy pet projects.

>>3302037

The kind that isn't written by needy lunatics to some woman who is currently happily taking the cawk from someone else.

>>3301844
actually pretty good OP

no hummus

i think you will look back on this in a couple years and be thankful for the muse she provided, and what a good exercise these poems were

and you will realize what perfection really is:

not when there is nothing left to add, but when there is nothing left to take away.

OP who are some of your favorite poets/influences?

>>3302016
I agree partly with this. I enjoy much of your word choice, like the first part of number 7, but too much of the rest seems somewhat overdone.
>While sweet wine swept in torrents down our throats
Awakening us to Dionysian wonders prowling through the underbrush.

That made me literally lol.

>>3302051
Any specific parts you think need the tightening/overhaul?
>>3302060
Thanks, that one is probably one of my favorites of the batch.
>>3302176
T.S. Eliot, Seamus Heaney, Yeats, Lord Byron, Anne Sexton, Sylvia Plath, Baudelaire, Whitman. Off the top of my head.

>Hello /lit/izens. I recently wrote a series of 15 poems and sent them to my ex-girlfriend
jesus christ how fucking desperate and neurotic could you possibly be

stop hating, haters, just talk about the poetry.

it sucks. you suck.

I like your word choice and rhythms OP. And the fact that you end some of the poems in a rhyming couplet or a series of them. That said, they do come across as a little overwrought at times, and about half of them don't seem geared towards feminine sensibilities in the slightest.

I wish you luck in this fool's errand, don't take it too hard when she inevitably finds fault in your creepy gesture.

I like your poems a lot OP. Not perfect but the parts that work are stellar. I'd say your greatest strength is when you are painting a scene or using expressive imagery.

>>3302199
>dat list
lawl

Wordy garbage. Where's the form, the rhythm?

Christ no wonder she left you; you're obviously a faggot and a moron.

>>3302463

I'm a faggot and a moron and I second this.

I see what happened. Some Lethario swept her off her feet with prose and this is your pathetic me-too. Just walk away.

>>3301818
reminds me of this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LfeeJkF3Zjg

>>3302483
Not even close.

>>3302463
I've seen the error of my ways, good sir.

>>3302398
I can understand the wordy part. The poems do have form and rhythm though - I mean, they're free verse, but many of them have patterned structures, and I do make a conscious effort to incorporate a rhythmic pulse throughout a work, which other anons have even commented on positively. Whether my forms and rhythm are at all good is obviously a matter of opinion, but you could be a little more substantive with your criticisms.

The only fantasy that approaches Tolkien is the Thomas Covenant series. Even then it is derivative, but at least Donaldson attempts some originality and it really only the leper-tard which lets it down.

>>3302505

fuck off cunt

re: poetry
it's not very good and frankly reeks of try hard

better luck next time

real talk I can't even read these without cringing

I actually feel bad for op

>>3301922
>So you stabbed me deep with your glinting citrine crystal
>And poetry spilled out the gushing wound.

As Pound once criticized Eliot's The Waste Land: too photographic.

>>3302534
thanks for the honesty.

>>3302537
what about them exactly makes you cringe?

>>3301839
>>3301825
>>3301818

Don't let anyone lie to you; these are fucking horrible.

gay and embarrassing. i'd kill myself if anyone knew i wrote these poems.

Anyone who's read enough to write good poetry about love will understand how hideous the idea is.

Beauty isn't something language can touch or affirm. It degrades it.

>>0
fucking this. it's exasperating to read, you really need to take a step back and try to condense this. it's painfully pretentious.

#14 is easily one of the worst poems I've read in my life.

I'm serious, I doubt I could intentionally write something that bad for comedy purposes. In fact, you may be a savant for dreadful poetry at the level that in itself is an artform.

If I were you OP, I would delete this thread, make up some excuse about the letter to your GF like you were being held at gunpoint, and pretend this never happened.

Jesus so much hate in this thread. I actually really enjoy your poems OP. Like many others have said, a little wordy. I don't necessarily see them as "pretentious" but I see what people might mean by labeling them as such. Just work on condensing and focusing them a little and they'll be golden. Your verbage and weaving of rhythms and sounds is top-notch.

(Ignore the haters, they're either trolls, hopeless projecting autists, or just not geared towards liking/understanding your poetic style.)

take solace in the fact that her taste in writing is as bad as yours

Go and read some Bukowski for the correct way to write a love poem.

>>3302545
you are trying so hard and falling so short

it sort of reminds me of some poetry this kid I went to college with wrote. it's so... amateurish.

you very clearly know what you want to do. but you can't do it. I'm sorry, you just can't. you just aren't that skilled. maybe with practice. but not now.

besides that, this isn't the way poetry is going. try something more sincere and less flashy. you don't need a goddamn thesaurus to write poetry, you just need to have some feelings.

>>3301922

>spine-smashing
>glinting citrine crystal
>verbal deluge
>abysmal pits
>awestruck
>kaleidoscopic

just... stop.

>>3302587
OP here, I heartily dislike Bukowski. Not saying he isn't talented, just far, far from my personal taste.

>>3302588
Well, it's useful to hear this. I'm honestly surprised by all the hate here, because I've showed my writing (though not these particular poems) to numerous colleagues and professors and I tend to get a lot of positive response... Still trying to puzzle through this gap in appreciation.

>>3302582
Thanks anon.

>mfw

>>3302589
...?
what's wrong with any of these words/phrases?

>>3302600

>hates Bukowski

>>3302605

That is why you'll never be a poet.

>>3302605

Once you've read quite a bit more, you'll understand. Or you won't. You don't seem to have a knack for this.

>>3302607
I never said hate. I can recognize he has some talent and I'm sure his writing is gripping to some. His minimalism just doesn't grab me emotionally, and his masculine cynicism just feels too easy and shallow and doesn't grab me intellectually. Not true for all of his poems, just most of them.

>>3302564
>>3302586
lit is one of the most cruel boards on 4chan

but damn I laughed my ass off at these

>>3302610
>>3302613
These seem like words I could easily find in the ouvres of one or more of my favorite poets.

>>3302620

While the words themselves are forced, it is more the context and placement of them which is at fault.

>>3302620

Go ahead and demonstrate a poetic use of something like 'spine-smashing' to the class

1. She's a female FFS, her entire life revolves around having no hobbies or interests that don't result in getting the alpha-dick. Don't call me sexist, just look at how woman (who I consider to have equal mental potential as men) have contributed fuck all to basically everything. Of course she said she wanted poems when she was with you.

2. Poetry is a godawful medium for pretentious people. It's like modern art: a medium with no standards that's exclusively for people who can afford to give a shit. Nobody tolerates so much incoherence in any other mediums. inb4 popular music, because it proves my point. If it's made by poor people nobody gives a shit. Nobody on /lit/ considers any rapper to have artistic merit.

3. She's probably sucking redneck cocks right now and considers you pathetic.

4. 10/10 I'm rustled.

>>3302628

There once was a fellow, quite dashing
whose hormonal fluids were splashing
he had a quick want
to clear out the tank
for a woman would find them spine-smashing.

>>3302635

*wank :3

>>3302628
I already did, you fuckwit. If you don't like it or think it's god-awful or forced, that's your prerogative. I personally believe that it works in its present context, particularly due to the assonance and alliteration the work as a whole embraces.

>>3302635
i leld

>>3302631

Take note of a child's conception of women.

>>3302637

Well then. Why come here for critisism that you cannot handle? I think you came here because you felt pretty pleased with your soppy wall of text and are clearly rustled that others don't share your opinion.

>>3302637
>people who write like this

The best writers aren't detected, OP.

>>3302635

Best poem itt.

>>3302600
you get positive responses because, well, what do you expect? they're not going to say "this poem sucks" to your face. one of the beauties of the internet is people are going to be honest no matter how awful being honest is. sorry bout that.

and if they're not giving at least some criticism then honestly, I wouldn't take that as a compliment. they might just think it's a waste of time. judging from your responses here you seem to be pretty set in your ways about how you're going to write.

sorry to hear you don't like Bukowski. honestly, my opinion on him is pretty mixed. but that's the way poetry is going. sincere, minimalist. and thank god for that. poetry should be for anyone, not just your shitty professors.

try rewriting one of your poems in a less wordy manner. write them with more heart. it'll be better that way.

>>3302637

Your attitude betrays a lack of confidence and an enormous immaturity about your work.

Your mistake was thinking highly enough of it to post a thread or send to your poor ex.

>>3302647
I am admittedly a bit rustled, if only because all the extremely negative opinions seem to clash with the opinions of academic authorities and other writers with whom I have shared my work. Generally when they do criticize they tend to say that my imagery and word use is sound, and that I just need to condense and focus more of the rambling sections. Which is what most of the more reasonable, well-thought-out comments in this thread also seem to be saying. So, yes, some of the blind hatred did strike me from left-field.

>op's girlfriend

It's so fucking purple. You have a good vocabulary, but you need to cut about 96% of that meaningless, vague, painful-to-read bullshit and actually create some structure. Look at how little you're accomplishing in terms of actually expressing anything, and how much space (and how much of your reader's time and imagination) you're wasting doing it. And if you don't have any original thoughts, don't write poetry.

>>3302655
maintain that confidence OP, when a person realizes how mediocre they are... what left do they have?

I live in North Carolina, OP. If you want me to, I can probably figure out a way to intercept the mail before it arrives to her. You could actually just give me her address and I'll go stake out her house and go through her mail every day until it comes. Also, on a scale of 1-10, how attractive is she? What are some things she likes? Does she currently have a boyfriend? What are some things she likes?

Get back to me. ;)

>>3302650

Well, /lit/ is unnecessarily negative though.

>>3302659
sent ;)

>>3302655
>academic authorities

I'm sure your teacher gave you a gold-star for this effort, but it's clearly tepid drivel in the real world.

>>3302655

People have the tendency to be overly polite when shown utter shit.

We have no reason to pretend here. What we are is honest, especially when it comes to stuff like this.

>>3302582

>samefag

do you talk like you write? seriously?

>>3302664
I've never written poetry for any classes, I've just showed them to writers-in-residnce whose opinions I respected.

I can take the abuse - I myself am acutely aware that my writing can com across as wordy, overwrought, bloated, purple, etc. It also happens to be the style of writing that most pleases me, and many of the (admittedly like-minded) writers and artists I surround myself with. So I will take /lit/'s opinion for what it's worth and hopefully broaden my appeal in the future.

>>3302670
>artists

i assume you mean 'autists'

I'm still not convinced this thread isn't a joke. You sent these to your EX-girlfriend? All 15 of them?

http://www.verybadpoetry.com/

Submitted.

>>3302670
>broaden my appeal
>come accross
dat obliquity

>>3302660
look here kid, those "academic authorities" are not as nice as you think they are behind your back. I helped edit my college's lit journal, and I can tell you right here that the comments they put on those papers/said to their fellow editors were significantly harsher than the ones they said to the writers.

you know what people on /lit/ are telling you? what the people you showed these poems think thinking, probably. and even if this isn't what your colleagues were thinking, this is the fucking internet. what the fuck kind of response did you expect?

don't shoot the messenger.

>>3302668
>implying
just because someone actually likes my work doesn't mean it's me, believe it or not taste is subjective

>>3302670

>I'll ignore everything in this thread because I'd already made up my mind as to how great my wankery is

Why did you post this thread???

Your poems remind me of this OP:

http://www.verybadpoetry.com/poems/show/O_Clock/

O Clock,
Pray do not wake me,
do not shake me,
do not slap my dream into oblivion, for this I shun.

O Clock,
have a heart, little grinding wheels serve as a means of compassion, arrest your hands and thus preserve mine own.

O Clock,
see my weary eyes, make a note of heavy steps.
Hush, O Clock, paint my room with silence.

and in return I may paint your ticking face with scented lace.

>>3302679
But why would I be consistently published in said lit journals if they thought my work was shit?

NOT saying that being published in a college journal proves shit, just that they obviously didn't find my writing as repulsive as many in this thread are making it out to be.

I bet this dude likes steampunk or is a libertarian.

>what do you mean my poems are shit?

>>3302688

What's clear is that any journal that would accept this stuff is not worth reading for a second.

Your 'academic authorities' have worst taste than /lit/, which is truly sad.

>>3302692
>but i'm published in college journals!

9/10, biggest troll this week.

>>3302688
I am here to tell you, as the editor of a college journal, that it doesn't mean shit.

>>3302682
I'm not ignoring a single post. It's just that when there's a dissonance between this thread and the reaction my writing has gotten everywhere else over the past three years, I have to take it all with a grain of salt.

>>3302699

I've been in OP's place before.

He's serious.

Can we get this thread archived?

i'd feel bad if this guy didn't seem like a total dick

>>3302702

Maybe it'd be wise to take an objective look at your work for once?

Maybe anonymous posters have nothing to gain by lying to you about your stuff?

Seriously, we'll all forget about this thread in a few hours except for you. What you take from it is up to you.

I've been in your position before, and the wisest thing to do is to stop lying to yourself.

>>3302696
>>3302698
I've also been published by Glimmer Train Press, the PEN Center, and Tupelo Press. This is the only reason I'm being somewhat petulant at all the abuse - of course I should have expected nothing short of it from the likes of /lit, it's just so dissonant when compared to every other reaction, personal and professional, that my writing has received.

>>3302706

Every thread's archived, but this shit will probably be here for a while if we don't fill it up too quick

OP thinks that he is a bard
and on poems he works really hard
so he posted on lit
got told that he's shit
and clearly a fucking retard

>>3302718

Getting published says nothing about the quality of your work.

I shouldn't have to tell you this.

>spine-smashing

Seriously???

>Where hurt and loss leech startling hymns from my heaving chest

This one line sums up your poetry, self-appraisal and romantic life. Pretty much all you needed to write.

Poster, can you accept that poem 14 is indeed dreadful? Consider this as a gentle-hand steering you perhaps towards your other imagery.

>>3302718

You aren't the first awful poet to be published and you won't be the last. The key is to just accept the criticism and start looking at your work from their perspective. You've got the wrong attitude for an artist. Write and rewrite until you're sick of your poems. Until you look at them and think "Yes, this is just as bad as /lit/ would tell me it is." And then growth. The worse you think your poetry is the better it's likely to be.

OP, you've obviously read a lot and acquired nothing from it other than an antiquated vocabulary, an elementary knowledge of mythology, and a basketful of terrible alliterative cliches. Back to the drawing board, faggot. I hope you're no older than 19; this reads like the horrible shit I wrote as a teenager after just having lost my virginity.

>>3302747
>Janebeh-Freeman

Jesus fuck, no wonder they have to wear a burkah. She'd be raped to death instantly.

>>3302758

Don't remind me.

I let the half-Iranian love of my life go.

>>3302765
That's not the way to look at life. And this isn't the place to talk about your feels.

>>3302765

So you only raped her half to death?

>>3302765
Can we get a Persian one-that-got-away sub-thread pity party up in this bitch?

>>3302769

This chap is correct. You should feel good for nailing some hot wog pussy and encouragement that you can get more.

>>3301818
i'm laughing out loud because this is a very accurate statement of how most of those snobbish romantic couples think today "we are the only two people in the world" today becomes "we were battled refugees seeking an isle of immaculate affection, fleeing a warzone world peopled by fascists and demons." those two lines alone already admit that the entire basis of your relationship was mutual escapism and not based on true personal affection, or, in other words, love not as will to power but as a refuge from will to power.

>>3302776
"We found love in a hopeless place. We found love in a hopeless place. We found love in a hopeless place. We found love in a hopeless place. We found love in a hopeless place. We found love in a hopeless place. We found love in a hopeless place. We found love in a hopeless place. We found love in a hopeless place. We found love in a hopeless place."

>>3302723
best post on /lit/ in months.

>>3302605
nothing in themselves. but in the coordination that you have placed upon them that is called "form", they aren't good. the ideas behind the poems are terrible too. so the form and ideas are both shit. on the other hand, add in some subtle sarcasm, and maybe the whole thing will read like an ironic joke.

>>3302769

You must be new here.

>>3302772

Please.

>>3302774

She was incredibly well-read, too.

Better days ahead. Better days.

>>3302790
>You must be new here.

lolno

seriously stop talking about your fucking feels on /lit/

hate you so much

>>3301818
would be less shit if you translated into french.

>>3302794
We were beaten island of refugees seeking affection immaculate
Fleeing a world populated war zone by the fascists and demons
Growling and spitting their seductions sour complacency and order.
We barricaded off for our camp in the narrow,
A big mattress dropped on the floor, trinkets and rations scattered in disorder,
Organically organized as a bed of moss or a sea of wildflowers.
Our minds foam breaking waves of happiness, shining like dandelion head round
Swaggering lush tufts of down fertilize our hearts race.

In the light of our common soul, our feet grew restless Gypsy nervous
Wandering between imposing rules and piles of bricks,
Expatriates bitter contempt fields of greed and laziness blanketing the Fatherland,
Stoops and stoges a temporary visa to our hell
Flooded tangles dark contemplations pay.
Oh what a brilliant city overflowing we have built in our exile,
Utopia meanders with nothing but our bodies to the edges.

>>3302791

This isn't a board for books.

It's for book-lovers, but it ain't about books.

Get it through your head. It's always been this way.

You left me with a tear in your eye and a spring in your heel
and said to me "au-revoir, wiedersehen, zai jian".
I said to you "but our love is forever, we are made for one another, like the jew and the ss officer we are meaningless alone."
You said "sure, whatever"
I lay awake at night and rustle, thinking of the voracious
mandingos reapeatedly thrusting your succulent holes
like a piston in a steam locomotive.
The tears flow from my eyes like a dark and stormy night battering against the crumbling rock
of our love.

>>3302800
>mfw this to french and back translation is actually better than OP's

>>3302803

Nope, that's nowhere near as bad as OP. It's funny.

>>3302800

Hey that's pretty good.

>>3302801
It's not being off-topic that bothers me, it's specifically emo feel shit. And I've been here since the beginning, and yes, it's always been an element of the board, but that doesn't make it a good thing to be encouraged. If you want to be emo and weepy about how some girl broke up with you, I don't think that's a good thing for the board. At least have the decency to couch it in some thing about how "you've been really getting into existentialism lately" or SOMEthing for God's sale. Emo feel shit just seems to me like something that reproduces really quickly into constant spammy personal-life whining, and is really worthless and just brings a bad attitude, a bad atmosphere, a bad vibe to the place.

So yeah, don't post feels on /lit/

>>3302800
would publish/10

>>3302803

>rustle

>>3301825
Pixies sparkling incorporated into the secret of this intoxicating beer world
Flitting from branch to branch below diaphanous wings,
Throwing seeds of wonder here and there in the countryside,
Watering their chosen few in stews flavored with destiny
Returning each evening in the heart of their forest sanctuary hidden
Rest, nestled between the leaves of rowan big booming.

Two beggars taken in lush country fair
Research sanctuary shine a wicked stepmother,
Each search a vast sky and each other's arms as their soothing cradle.
Elves throw their smiles on the pair,
Shoot the waves of twisted dark green magic through their fingers light
Whooshing to and fro above the head lovers crowned,
Letting out sparkling laughter that sent chills plunging thorns lovers.
Then they landed at the parade of the wetland, the warming of the Earth with the dancing feet fast.

They cut small twigs and sharp swords chestnuts,
Oscillating and salvation, hail a coruscating coronation,
Sing hymns unbridled royalty in ancient languages sound
A silver fabric wrapped gloss covering their convivialities.
They flew with crowns of leaves and berries, place them delicately atop disheveled locks of her lover.
Worldwide playactors pups were transfigured before their mules to sniff new majesty.
A dream of flowers sprouted, pushing his face gaping by a patched ground magic
Poems engraved in pure and righteous script winding through its petals:
"A gracious gift of life, O Faerie Queen and The Little King.
Can courts sprites and washers to be near you, ever on the wing. '

>>3302808

Hey, fucko, nobody gives a shit what you find interesting or worthy of the board. They never have. Get over it.

>>3302816
and i dont' give a shit if you think that my opinion of the board is uninteresting and irrelevant and we're all just circlejerking and meaninglessly post-post-postin' away and none of us care what anyone else thinks and we'll all die alone and it's turtles all the way down

i'm still going to tell you what i think though

>>3301922

english->chinese->esperanto->english

You ask me, "Where is our poetry?
National anthem waifish Roaming
A dash of weeping with joy jump between our souls? '
I replied: "Then I stir the depths of the success of the spine spiral.
In muddy slippery cave dripping wave
Chest where injuries and losses Leech wonderful hymns of my ups and downs. '
So, you are deeply stung me with your shining light yellow crystals
The poetry sprinkled gushing wound.

I guess I would be grateful to this verbal flood
Severe vibrant autumn canopy the emerging dislocation meat.
Again, you and me suddenly out of the hole of the unfathomable
Peer-love huge and mysterious footwork from that height,
Still weaving my injuries crown flower
However, the fear of home glow kaleidoscope vision.

>>3302815
is this into french and back? it's much better.

>>3302829
aye

>>3302821

Okay.

>>3302825

Rhymes.

>>3302825
still better but the chinese probably ruined the grammar "you are deeply stung me"

>>3302831
cool

you want anything to drink

>>3302836

Alcohol makes my stomach curl

Take a bong rip.

>>3301931
This is a fine poem here. I started reading a few others but just couldn't care to finish them. This one is a 10/10 though. Might read some other ones. Maybe. Stop using flashy adjectives is all I can say. Also hope your ex has the attention span to read through all these to get to the last poem (or at least skips to the last one if the 14 droning poem before it disinterest her).

>>3302843
to be honest, the flashy adjectives are basically the substance of his poems. if he loses them there'll be nothing left.

About three of those are salvageable

>>3302688
oh and college journals really don't mean shit.

I've been published in all of mine - buried in pages after pages of pleb work with pleb editing, a rare instance where I feel the word pleb can be used authentically. [/spoiler[

>>3302848
That last one had very few flashy adjectives and I say is a gem, though

>>3302843

I agree that poem is pretty good. I feel that the second stanza stands alone and ignoring the first makes it even better.

I never lied
I loved you in a place
Where there's no space and time

>op's last stanza said by a rapper from compton with brevity

Are you still here OP? Are you reading this critique of 15? I agree it's pretty good and that it was obscured by the brain being pulped into a diarrhea slush by the preceding poem 14.

>>3301931
>ambrosial
well actually, two strong suggestions:

switch "ambrosial" with fragrant

switch "splayed" for.... something else (simpler) spread perhaps, but maybe something else. this is less important than the first suggestion.

I know you hate minimalism and I agree it's not the be-all and end-all approach, but it does have its merits and you would do well to absorb it somewhat to the rest of your style (this doesn't mean assimilate to it, but learn from it).

>>3302873
i took he meant ambrosial as in immortal

>>3302794
I only know Cajun French and I'm much more proficient at speaking it than writing with it. I could give it a try, though.

>>3302737
I will take this advice to heart. I have not reworked these poems enough, and I also tend to over-appreciate my own work. I do need to be more disciplined and stringent.

>>3302747
Accurate, I am 19. And I lost my virginity about a year and a half ago, the girl in question was only my second encounter. I wrote a bunch of shitty poems for the first girl, too.

>>3302843
Thanks, this was definitely one of my favorites... Just curious, what do you think of >>3301844 ? That was another one I quite liked. Still too verbose and adjective-ridden?

>>3302858
because it describes banal actions without flashy adjectives? i suppose that could be considered a gem in a sea of redundant modifiers if you forgot its contrived context.

>>3302882

4? Tripe.

>>3302882
you're only 19, i'm 21 and wish i was as read as you

you're on a great track, don't worry in a couple years time you will drop your pretensions and learn to write more authentically. not to imply I at all do, but i got faith in you OP. you're still very young

>>3302873
don't force your minimalism on him, Monsieur. just force particular minimisations on him. against the former he can field an army of ready-made arguments.

>>3302882
You also need to lean to diction, OP. Your use of vocabulary approximates what you mean, but your word choice is not as accurate as it could or should be.

>>3302900

schwing!

>>3302882
>A male lesbian, perhaps

Are you fucking serious?

>>3302882
It's not bad, definitely well constructed, just not my taste personally. 15 had much more substance to it, and 4 doesn't hold a candle to it IMO.

I find that it was mostly just elaborating on the fact that she called you a man - you describing in great length descriptions of manliness like moving mountains - and then mentioning more that she's hawt. Not really the type of thing that sticks with one after reading much, I dunno.

I haven't read them all, but I can just tell that 15 is your best. And from one aspiring poet to another - I'm 19 also and you're probably better than me.

>>3302900

What a babe, shit.

I need to stop being a virgin.

>>3302890
pleasure to meet you, Monsieur guy. I think we agree here.

>>3302900
learn to diction*

>>3302882
>To be a man with – O grander still! – a woman grafted to my vine,

Why is this faggotry still on page one?

>>3302803

X'D

>>3302910

HHHNNNNNGGGG

>>3302913

Best thread on /lit/

>>3302900
Very observant. It's probably my biggest weakness, I'll often stew over a particular feeling or conviction I want to get down on paper and start grasping for fancy words that are more approximations than truly fluid dictations. That's probably the cause of the "try-hard" feel that some have described.

>>3302903
Thank you Someone. Not to sound conceited or hungry for praise, I know I'm nothing special, but after all the mockery and derision I'm a little thin-skinned and it means a lot.

OP you should read Bukowski, if only to learn how to not get your jimmies rustled.

>>3302925
I read Hemingway for that.

>>3302919
Don't let it get to your head too much, it's only that last poem I really am commenting on. I wouldn't say any of what I praised if it weren't for just that one.

Also, if I can have a moment of indulgent shame:

>mfw when I posted my stuff on here a while ago it was generally well received.

But that may be because I predicted they would think it was shit (and admitted so in the first post) and generally responded to the criticism and claims of work being shit that appeared without surprise.

>>3302919
quoting because quote in >>3302935
didn't work for some reason

>>3302935
>>3302936
Yeah, I deleted the original post cause I called you anon. And yeah, my insecure lashing-out and general rustledness probably didn't help matters here.

I do think some of my earlier work is genuinely better than this stuff, upon reflection. Thematically I was kind of grasping at straws here, mainly because her and I's relationship was based on vacant platitudes of devotion and mail-order Bohemian romantic rebellion (much as >>3302776 observed). I do feel like there was something substantive and powerful between us, even something worth holding on to, but so much of it has been lost in a haze of our shared drug use and self-righteousness that from my current vantage point it's hard to write about it with any sincerity.

>>3302936

The faggot deleted it.

>>3302941
It's right here
>>3302923

>>3302940
Well, you wrote 15 poems and got 1 really good one out of it, I think that's well worth all the trouble. Plus this ridiculous letter shenanigan itself is an amusing anecdote that you'll remember fondly later on, I'm sure. Calling me Anon is just fine. I'm a tripfag, sure, but I'm still anonymous.

Do you think it would be a good idea if I posted one or two of my poems to compare/contrast to yours? Mine are a lot more "minimalism" and inspired by modernism more than romanticism - this generalization, of course.

I'll only do it if you think it's a good idea, I don't want to ruin the thread / increase the faggotry some anons are already perceiving.

>>3302955
"minimalistic"*
this being a generalization**

I should stop editing things mid-writing.

>>3302955
Sure, post them. I'd enjoy reading them.

>>3302961

OK.

OP was champing the bit
at the thought of his ex' hot tits
so he wrote her some poems
in the post did they go, em
pity they were all shit.

>>3302964
7/10, would chuckle again

>>3302961
Alright, these two are my most recent:

(1)
Before the season ends,
and the fading lights descend,
Before this moment lends
its empty memory to nostalgia:
we should make amends, my friend,
before the season ends,
yes, let's amend: how can we make amends?

What to do, what to do, please tell me what to do:
I'm a settled rock in a moving river
and can feel myself being pulled.
Tell me, my friend,
before the season ends,
what can I do now, to ease the regret that will inevitably come
when the current carries me away?

(2)
Here I am, sitting on top of this rock:
the one you said you'd always come to,
but here I am, alone.
How different this rock is, without you here as well.
It's more real. It stares into me.
~

Pic related is a bit older, and I put it in a picture because of the way I used indents and stuff.

[I did mention you are probably a better poet than me, but oh well]

>>3302978

>2012
>rhyming

>>3302982

>cutting off one of prosody's legs for no reason

>>3302978
I quite enjoy these. They have more original topics and themes than mine (admittedly, not terribly original, but more). The last line in the second poem has a real weight to it. I may actually like the pic related the best, except for the meatball and A-B-C bit, which doesn't add much in my opinion.

>>3302990
Thanks, no idea what I can do about those three lines (the Meatball and alphabet related ones), though. Removing them altogether leaves something missing in the flow of the poem and the development of the idea, and I can't think of any better way to express the little (little yet crucial to my vision of the thing, I suppose) they express in a different way. I do see how you can be disenchanted with them, so I'll keep that in the back of my head should I ever spontaneously figure out a way to tweak them. But will keep as is for now until then.


This has been an interesting exchange. Good luck with all future writing.

This thread is why I peruse /lit/, or fifteen initial posts of diarrhea drenched awkwardness and the following hullabaloo.

Archived?
Op please come back later and tell her reaction. I think you would have a better shot at coitus if you sent her a picture of your dick attached with cut off pieces of your ass hair.

>>3302655


If you want a genuinely honest opinion, then why didn't you post it to a genuine poetry website where you have to claim responsibility for it?

It's because you knew you wouldn't like the response.

Oh god.

>>3302843

>wrestled and tumbled

sheesh hasn't she been through enough?
prepare to receive a restraining order
that uses the word "stalking" in it

>>3302913

Because OP is self-obsessed and keeps bumping it.

I honestly think he likes the insults. Tragic, really.

This poetry gave me cancer.

>>3303323

inb4 OP tells us how this poetry has actually cured several people at his university of cancer and contributed to the restoration of every poetry magazine in the western hemisphere, while making him several million dollars in the process.

>>3301825
>Sparkling pixies stir in secret the inebriating brews of this world,
>Flitting from branch to branch beneath gossamer wings,

This bit actually made me laugh out loud. It's possibly the worst thing I've ever read that wasn't intentionally parodic of bad poetry (assuming that it's not - I'm not convinced that OP isn't just a very dedicated troll).

It's "It was a dark and stormy night" bad.

Purple prose, or purple poetry to be more accurate. I'm sorry bud but I really just did not like it. It was painfully verbose, needlessly focused on minute details without actually making them "mean" something in the context of the poem. There is little symbolism, little "oh, that's a good line" meaning hidden behind any of the lines, it's just face value verbiage and nauseatingly descriptive.

>>3303482

I find it difficult to believe this is a troll; have you tried to write bad poetry? It takes real skill to be this convincingly terrible. So op is either a very talented poet masquerading, or far more likely a teenager with blue balls.

>>3302765
How could you stand those makeup-drenched princesses? I'm surrounded by them and it looks like they got someone with parkinson's to do their makeup.

Hilarious thread