/lit/ - Literature

>>4334046
I will match you a haiku.

Eels glide quietly
Deep in cerulean clouds.
What exquisite taste!

Is it also shit? Absolutely!

>>4334078
At least we gave it a shot. /lit/ is full of cowards.

>>4334085
Ain't it the truth.

YOU PLAGIARIZED! I'M TELLING!

>>4334098
Please do so I can give credit. It was unintentional.

titled: my shitty poem because i don't try

never cut your grass
hopefully it will rain forever?
just watch
our food and smoke
listen to the rain
makes you want to kill yourself
in the best possible way

>>4334114
>>4334078

Actually kinda like btw

>>4334121
thanks homie

Title: Afterbirth
>won't qualify it, but I'm aware it's not great
This morning the mirror smirked
As if aware of the day;
Her, in the mirror, somehow knew
What was in store.

Two hours of denial was enough,
Too much hoping this was a mistake.

At least marks in stone erode away.
The past‘s rock face deforms, a distortion of what was.
Fate spelled out in ink, on paper, plastic framed,
Can be smeared but its result stays the same.

Three hours, with three hours left till home;
Hand in hand, waiting, palms begin to itch.
Three hours still till love is renounced.

Faults create mountains, earth pushed to sky;
Rain, natural tears, wears down terrain.
Skin takes in moisture and flushes out waste,
Nerves concealed, remember the last rain outside.
They remember getting wet,
Confidence upon entrance, and
The dejection when crossing the divide.

>>4334121
Thanks!
captcha: bottom zoomsea

>>4334130
Please provide a pseudonym so I can give credit when sharing this.

>>4334130

is this about divorce
or abortion
or am i an idiot

>>4334146
Cevertez, my bad

>>4334149
A little of both. I'm surprised you managed to pick up on it. Would have thought it was incomprehensible.

I found my old poetry journal! Wow, this goes back almost 7 years... Man I was a fag at 16... Will find best from youth and post.

>>4334155

yeah i mean its a bit unclear but i like it, the last stanza could use work/is a bit unecessary imo

>>4334179
Cool, I'll take that into account if I ever getting around to revising this one. I have a tendency to go off the rails and lose my sense of direction and imagery at times.

There was a period there where I was trying to build up a writing profile under a pseudonym on some writing website. This was one of nine, they'd let me post. Glad you liked it.

Standing there, withered
Quivering in redundant motion
Rooted to a specific tile in space
Battered and now, displaced
The frame was shaking
And the music kept playing

>>4334046
Tao Lin is the best
Tao Lin is the bes
Tao Lin is the be
Tao Lin is the b
Tao Lin is the
Tao Lin is th
Tao Lin is t
Tao Lin is
Tao Lin i
Tao Lin
Tao Li
Tao L
Tao
T

>>4334046
>it's


Please learn basic grammar stuff before you try to write creatively, even if you later break down the rules you learned.
If you DO know the difference between "its" and "it's", a quick scan of your work before you post (yes, even on 4chan) will do you a world of good

>>4334339
Say that's some good stuff there. You've got some real talent, keep going man.

>>4334339

The best is Tao Li
The best is Tao L
The best is Tao
The best is Ta
The best is T
The best is
The best i
The best
The bes
The be
The b
The
Th
T

>>4334339
The best is Tao Lin
The best is Tao Li
The best is Tao L
The best is Tao
The best is Ta
The best is T
The best is
The best i
The best
The bes
The be
The b
The
Th
T

>>4334360
I'm writing a book

>>4334357
HOW ABOUT YOU FUCK OFF YOU SHITTY GRAMMAR NAZI WHO'S TOO AFRAID TO POST ANY OF HIS/HER OWN WORK (NOTICE CORRECT FORM OF WHO'S)

>>4334379
Glad to hear, I'll be sure to buy it.

Assuming this is Tao, I wanna say I actually read Taipei and liked it quite a bit, I thought the ending fit in nicely with Thanksgiving, although in my own writing I subconsciously began copying your/his style, and even named some of my characters after the ones in the book.

>>4334410
if you buy my book i'll make you a salad

>>4334370
Tao Lin
Tao Li
Tao L
Tao
Ta
T
Ta
Tao
Tao L
Tao Li
Tao Lin
Tao Li
Tao L
Tao
Ta
T
Ta
Tao
Tao L
Tao Li
Tao Lin
Tao Li
Tao L
Tao
Ta
T
Ta
Tao
Tao L
Tao Li
Tao Lin
Tao Li
Tao L
Tao
Ta
T
Ta
Tao
Tao L
Tao Li
Tao Lin
Tao Li
Tao L
Tao
Ta
T
Ta
Tao
Tao L
Tao Li
Tao Lin

>>4334425
fer sure, tao.

>>4334441

T a o L i n
a o L i n
o L i n
L i n
i n
n

>>4334455

Tabboo
Taoboo
Taobon
Tao bin
Tao Lin

>>4334455
I really like this.

The "Lin" part of the name, that which holds the cultural ties to China, slowly crushes the first name, till all identity of the individual is lost except for the ancestral link. This poem represents the futility of the struggle against the past, as well as the modern struggles of the individual to be seen as anything other than another Chinese American.

Breathtaking. Simply breathtaking.

Tao Lin
Towl Inn
Howl in
How long
How long
How long
How long is it Tao Lin's dong
Makes me want to do something wrong
For Real though, like Lacan
But maybe it's symbolic
And Tao's got the small dick
The Real Real cockmonster is Zizek

>>4334494
Over 9,000

duality rules
hot cold day night life death just
diferrent degree

In the belly of this pirate ship,
I sleep, I dream, curled at the hip.
The crew above, spitting phlegm,
As I sleep I dream of them
And my musty cabin, wall of maps.
The cannonball, it goes and taps.
The lumber breaks,
The crewmen brace,
Yet I dream, still in a trance,
men always dance this deadly dance.
Now they board, my ship sinks low,
how they fight, row on row.
On my deck, how they go,
"Slither-slash! Frither-oh!"
Done and dead,
Piled high, head to head.
"Il était la vie", says the heap.
The tale is over, yet still I sleep.

Some rhymes (if not all) are shit. But how do you like it, /lit/?

First thing I grabbed out of my pile of lyrics.
Down In A Wishing Well (Bright Eyes rewrite)

I heard you fell into a wishing well
Built yourself a little Hell
Baby tell me when'd you sell
Your soul for that?
how many signals did you send?
Those surface cuts, your shaking leg
Every little hint at death
Has been ignored

Your voice, it starts to shake
Hear no words
Just the rain
It pounds just like your head
On that shitty roof
Over your shitty home

No one ever stops to hear you out
They just leave you there to scream and shout
You're left with thoughts that bounce around
Like a crash-ing car
So you draw your eyelids black with paint
Paint your ego black with shame
Out of ideas, you're out of ways
To run and hide

Your hearts starts speeding up
Til it's so far gone
You can't catch up
When your thought, they turn to death
You've gotta stomp them out
Just like a cigarette

>>4334532
7.5/10 imo

This poem is shite
my stupidity grows brite
sure i didnt spell brite rite
cuz my hand is cramped tite
but im teaching a class
so i must have some class
or artistic license
because my drivers got taken away
when i put that lamppost into disarray
but you mite live in a small town
you mite live in the big city
we all gotta agree
this poem is pretty shitty

>>4334568
10/10 Would fuck author if gay.

well boss if you want my opinion
i wouldnt cry things are looking not so well for me
but keep trucking they say cheer up they say
some people have it worse they say
i never said i have it worst i say
there are children in africa
who have adapted to imitate plants
they only need water and sunlight
i say to prove i know of suffering
and i have it a good deal better
but boss they say to me that thats not true
and i ask if they have ever been to africa
and seen the plant children
or the animals that are scared to death every
morning and scared back to life every night
of course not but i read it in the papers
that these things can t exist
boss i m going to write a note to the papers
they should check their facts more often

My good friend, the water drain,
Told me to have a good day.
"No, thank you," I said, in pain.
Stumbling, I went on my way.
The rain falls up, into my nose,
It fills, it burns, my ears, my eyes.
And so these pains affect my prose.
In silence, comes a watery reprise.
I've sat at the bottom of the pool too long,
I've breathed my share of chlorine gas.
You see, the water, it forms a song,
Making the world speed so fast, then pass.
Yes, my cane sometimes is an eel,
And my hat whispers dirty things to my brain.
But friend, if you listen to this spiel,
My handkerchief will assure you, I'm this side of insane.

As I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the lord my soul to keep
and If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take,
Go, take my soul by the hand,
Lead me 'mongst your merry land,
Teach me of the noble way,
Serenade the trees, and they shall sway.
Rich men sail, and poor men graze,
Both have fun, whilst they laze.
Pull me around the stars above,
Teach me of that thing called love.
Soon the lessons will be fully spun,
Then finally, when the night is done,
place my soul back unto another chest,
So I might learn in life what I can't in death.

夏の日に
仏は歩いて
はなをさく

>wrote this years ago
He keeps looking over his shoulder. Here in the dark. He walks up a deserted way. Cars fly by, every now and then.
Their sound is quick, lights come blinding through.
He goes to cross the street,
Stopping before stepping out into the light.
No remorse came from the car that screeched over him.
The sound a body makes when two tons of aluminum fly through it,
Is like a mayonnaise jar exploding.
Maybe that is what he was going for.

Sunset is red
low deep red, I wonder
is your pussy red too?

i loved you
what's more?
i love you

yellow banana cupcakes
green tortilla chips
red fiery dynamite
blue ice cream

the rainbow of my heart
needs some nutrients from
a colourful soul
like yourself.

Yellow banana cupcakes
just imagine it
yellow banana cupcakes
taste it
how else could I explain it?
yellow banana cupcakes
use your imagination.

>>4334672
everything you write sounds like something I'd read on kioskkiosk

just fyi kioskkiosk is hipster as fuck and shitty as hell but they sometimes have good shit bein sold

His dick is quite large.
Probably because he's black.
Not sure if I'm racist.

Salt and pepper
a man made gift
combine with pistachios
for a real treat

Gross pseudo depth
this poem
has not

Plastic rapper from Lays
lying on desk.
empty.
just like my soul.
and if you are
reading this
I'm disappointed because
you should have stopped
5 lines ago.

Water container.
shining aluminum.

LORDCO
=AUTO PARTS=
ACFelco
FRAM

If you are not writing from your heart,
where are you writing from?
You're head?
TECHNICALLY
YOU
ARE
ALWAYS
WRITING
FROM
YOUR
HEAD
ANYONE
WHO
SAYS
OTHERWISE
IS
A
FRAUD
AND
A
FOOL.

Amy is a girl
with blonde hair
and blue eyes
and a nice face.

Amy is a girl
I met in high school.
She didn't need
another guy.

But she saw me differently,
I swear.

>>4334592
that was good. this sounds better to me, though, doesn't mean anything that i've done this, just wanted to, don't take offense.

Go, take my soul by the hand,
Lead me 'mongst your merry land.
Teach me, the noble way.
Serenade the trees, make them sway.
Pull me 'round the stars above,
Teach me of that thing called love.
And soon, the lessons fully spun,
Finally, the night is done.
it reminds me a lot of Touch Me by Stanley Koonitz. touching nonetheless (no pun intended)

Is your pussy wet?
Are your nipples hard?
Is your face blushed?
Is your clitoris erect?
Are you very sensitive?
Are you opening up to me?

>>4334844
>you're

eww

>

>

>

>>4334858
Criticism can be the demise!
for a young artist.
And isn't art held highly?
You should go to jail.
4334858.
Go to jail.
4334858
Be locked up.
4334858

Books are like little friends.
Little friends you should to open up to.
You might learn something.
You might experience something.
There is a reason books exist, you know.
You don't understand.

>>4334647
>>4334657
>>4334666
>>4334672
>>4334786
>>4334815
>>4334825
>>4334830
>>4334836
>>4334844
>>4334853
>>4334857
>>4334872

Would appreciate criticism,

>>4334869
im just saying, man. you really need to work on your grammar. a lot of people will stop reading once they reach a grammar mistake as bad as that. you probably dont care, though, which is fine i guess.

i dont dislike your personality, though. you seem decent

why dont you start a chat on a separate site like chatzy or tinychat? im sure people would be interested in that (i would)

>>4334884
Are you a girl?

Pretty girls

Pretty girls can put one in a different state.

You are transported to a whole new world.

Where,

how could anyone not be a pretty girl?

But of course then there is a not pretty girl or there is a guy. A few feet or a few miles away.

And it's a human too.

Another day
Another squalor made.
Another dollar paid.
A brother with some lemonade.
He swears that better pays,
Cuddlin’ a letter to my bank account.
Dazed.
One of these days I’ma get out this maze and join the rat race.
A crap pace kept,
Up with cat trails.
When that fails.
I slap base
And curtail.
I stab mail,
Open letter on the ale.
And then I’m sombre.
Salsa.
A rumba,
Closer,
To a cold mango mosa.
Play tango sober.
Then a drink and we’re closer.
So close to over.

Green grocer.
Cave dwellin’ orge.
Listen hard, sonar.
Slow ensuing stoner.

>bitch

>>4334896
Is this poem titled neck beard angst?

>>4334901
"pretty girls"

>>4334854
nice

>>4334888
no, but how would you know if i was lying?

>>4334908

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
deep

Pencil case
indifferent to anything
of course.

>>4334046
>>4334085
one would think that before writing poetry you'd have some notions of grammar

>>4334912
it's true, though, what's the point of saying?

Is your dick wet?
Are your nipples hard?
Is your face blushed?
Is your penis erect?
Are you very sensitive?
Are you opening up to me?

A hobo plays banjo
Loudly, quietly, softly and hardly
Audiences hear, see
Listening, viewing, passively, attentively
They hear Improvised words
Randomly, thoughtfully, happily, candidly
Train arrives
Momentarily, obscurely, hurriedly, slowly
Passengers enter
Frantically, aggressively, modestly, fastly
Moments later
Expectedly, hourly, honestly, creatively
A hobo plays banjo...

Believe it or not this is actually the best poem I've ever written in terms of rhythm and meter.
>tfw pleb

Black desktop screen.
Why'd I choose this scheme?

>>4334920
so u are a girl

>>4334922
also, by posting this horrible "poetry," you're killing the purpose of your own thread. how are people supposed to open up and share when all you're doing is being sarcastic?

unless these are serious submissions, in which case, i apologize

Neil Gaiman is very lucky

he has my ideal life.

Pretty daughters.

Good house.

Wife.

Face.

Arms Legs.

Torso.

Why was I born an air particle?

>>4334931
It's pretty obvious that Poet OP and Noo Poet are different posters.

>>4334931
Sorry...

I'm not the OP either. I'm someone else entirely.

These are serious, yes.

Pussy Bitches
Get Money.

Money Bitches
Get Pussy

Bitches Money
Get Pussy

Money Pussy
Get Bitches

I chose the wrong word or am missing a word.

Trolling is against the rules.

dear 4334946,

My feelings are hurt.

Sincerely, 433494X

I'm quitting,
I'm done.

This poetry,
was fun

it's time to go.
my name is not Cho.

I am not asian,
I'm not discriminatin

I need a rhyme
that is sublime

cause need a segue
so i can get away

i really want a closing phrase
please I might go craze

here we go.
It's time to know!

That I'm leaving,
you're ass is heaving!

So leave a message
at the beep!

Cause my poem
is finally complete!

niggers lie
niggers steal
niggers cheat
niggers kill

Bird bird bird, bird is the word.

Wow you guys can't read. I was asleep. Will post more when I'm off work if the thread is still here.

>"poet op" is not me.

>For /lit/, you don't read much.

>I do like a lot of these so far, even some of the troll poems.

>Tao's dong
>mfw

I have ingested the splashing coolant of autumn
and, upon the sensation, withdrawn into the night;
I will go to golden vineyards, love fair women,
until I feel happy, and then break myself and scatter
as snow across the blood-cold earth feeling numb.

mY pOEM, bY wILLIAM bAKER

dARK lIGHT
sTAR nIGHT
fIRST wISH
tONIGHT

wiSHIN'
fISHIN'
dAD'S GONE MISSIN'

pLEASE HELP
pLEASE SAVE
mOM HAS GONE CRAZE

sCHOOL SUCKS
mE TOO
tHIS POEM SUCKS
gARY sTU

In a cold, white room in Vienna
Will your words do justice to the things you see?
You, who have a distaste for punctuation,
Except for periods and commas,
Which reflect something of the mutable solidity
Of a world you never asked to see.
And the brooding strings of an orchestra,
Which give shape to your newspaper morning,
Loop incessantly, winding upward like smoke
From a grate in the grey, hard ground of always.

Your efficient stranger evades attention;
Styrofoam coffee transient across the street,
Passing through the forest of wills,
All accelerating, all belligerent,
All forgotten in the moment of gulp.
A Black glove speaks deliberate doing,
Leather-crisp tightening, a digital stamp.
That moment in childhood when everything melted,
Then back to her, softly —
Balletic in swell.

You watched a horse once,
Back in the countryside,
You saw it trample the tractable ground.
There was an instant,
Cue dissonant longing,
And then you were gone,
A loaf for the town.
You half-caressed our routine imbroglio,
Our doing, our being, our getting around.
You saw a girl with white hair on the pavement,
And all of us watched you, except her
And the horse
And the ground.

Masquerade

Remember how we used to dance?
when every night was for romance
I'd put on makeup, you'd wear black,
we never thought of looking back
we'd meet in dark exotic places,
where no one knew our names or faces
you'd scowl and mutter, I'd just smile
we'd share the mystery for awhile
the others never understood
it wasn't about the bad and good,
we only had to be together
my crumpled velvet to your leather
my tousled locks, your dark good looks
Like something from the comic books
You'd brood and I would play the clown
I'd laugh, and you would always frown
my silly giddy point of view
could never win a grin from you.
But now I stare out through the glass
and watch the empty evenings pass
I smile above my cup of tea
and wonder if you think of me
and nights, as strong and rich as wine
when I was yours and you were mine.
I dont expect to win your trust
but there's no law that says I must
just sit here waiting for the grave!
and you, live like you're in a cave,
away from life and cool night air
and all the things we used to share
someday I may walk out of here
my cries may find some friendly ear
I'll repent of every rule I broke
and tell them it was all a joke.
and some night find you on some street
just like the ones where we would meet
we'll walk together through the night
and all the wrongs will be put right
we'll do all the things we never did
when we kept our names and faces hid.
and in one of those dim smoky bars
I'll tell you how I got these scars.

A Rumor in Gomorrah

A man has told me god is good,
and stands above all men,
that he will never cast us forth,
though drenched with lust and sin,
That though we heed him little,
and pursue our own accord
he will not seek our bane nor yet,
unsheath his deadly sword
that he forgives excesses
and will not our prayers reject.

There was rumor in Gomorrah,
to that very same effect.

A friend avers that government,
has all our cares in mind.
And will not neglect the comfort of
the poor, the halt, the blind.
he maintains unreservedly,
his faith in policy.
to bring the fruits of honor to
the strong the just, the free.
he says the great in power seek
the profit of all men

It was mentioned in Treblinka,
but I did not heed it then.

Technology will save us,
i have heard a stranger say.
The wonderment of science,
skill, and tools will win the day.
Our comfort and our safety
we may leave to wise devices.
And men who build and train them up,
will coddle all our vices.
they'll see the futre clearly
and avert all waiting dooms.

I think I heard it spoken in
Titanic's smoking rooms.

The forgiveness of the strong is great,
I'm sure most meen agree.
The wisest and the best of us
will surely all be free.
the bold men, wise in letters
with their eye on public weal.
will never be cast out or forced
their knowledge to conceal.
Time alters soon the hearts of kings,
and all will be put right.

I heard it in the Gulag
almost every single night.

So go forth with the banner
of of redemption wafting high
and shout the slogan "Liberty!"
in land and sea and sky.
Of justice, peace, forgiveness, love,
proclaim the coming reign.
And cry the truth to power,
and the vanity of gain
That mercy always triumphs,
and that men will all be free.

Go tell them in Gomorrah,
but you didn't come from me.

Sonnet LXXIX, or, Forty-Two.

Are you the liar or is she? Speak first,
You only ask this after it is done.
You take her in your hands and she’s coerced,
You think. “Come now, girl, won’t you join the fun?”
She giggles with vigor; lying with you.
You whisper bittersweets, the tales gone by.
She knows them well; you see she is no fool.
You come within an inch of her, the lie.

You shy away, she’s not for you, too low.
She sticks around, you don’t complain at all.
Never around to pay the bills, you know,
But she has stayed with you for the long haul.
You say she is a bitch, but who lied last?
She’s gone, your life, and it’s all in the past.
Oddly, I find it easy to write poetry than to critique it.

Breathe in,

time stills

ashes fall

and settle.

Breath out -

Time Suspended

ashes hang

in agony.

In-out,

ashes remain

a monument

to being.

orderingmydailychaos.wordpress.com

>>4334486
Your analysis is sound but incomplete. You've completely ignored the two most important lines, "in/n" which show the inevitable collapse of that same ancestral link that destroyed the personage in the first place. That desperate assertion of cultural identity that destroyed the individual is itself hopelessly lost. We sacrificed the present for the past and lost them both.

It's a heartbreaking work, really.

>>4336814
Melodramatic and impersonal, not a good combination.

>cold autumn leaves fall
>sad frogs indeed keep feeling
>feels when no gee eff

I'll bite.

The phones are bleeding
The utensils are dropping
Clanging, banging, squirting
Right onto the sheets
Love making time
Piling up
To a life so mundane
Mustering excitement
From a clean domain
Reconsider this life
Pictures are being sewn into quilts
A patchwork of the past
A little bit tacky
But thoughtful all the same
It's just the names
That can't be claimed

>>4336192
pretty damn nice, no way this is original.

This is a dubstep song.
Feel the bass vibrate.
Wailing synths
and pounding drums.
Could you ever
not think that
this is a dubstep song?

‘Let’s see if it comes to me.
Ok. I was on the deck and I stopped
being able to breath.
I remember that. It wasn’t as if I had lost the ability to breath or anything,
but the natural in/out flow of breathing wasn’t really
working for me. I wanted to ask
it, as if it was a person, if and why,
if so,
it had decided to stop. Ask it in a way
that I would ask a child what was the matter and why he was crying knowing full well that I wouldn’t be able to empathize
and would then feel no remorse when I laughed internally as his tears and the almost surreal world-view that he is possessed of
that would make his crying seem
like the logical answer to whatever trivial predicament was then troubling him.

The internal reason that was the would-be answer
to the question asked was that inside, there wasn’t a reason.
That’s what not only angered me, y’
know, because of the senselessness
of the reasoning that my breathing had come to to validate it’s own
objection to working properly and therefore making me pull down every breath manually,
but the triviality of it’s answer and that it thought that that was good enough.

>>4337699
cont'd

The fact that my own
breathing came back in this whole internal QandA session
with the answer to my question that would have pretty much been my
answer had someone asked me why I was breathing heavily and why I wasn’t talking anymore
and why there were tears in my eyes.
That there was nothing.
Nothing making me deep down inside myself appear very off
and/or put upon by the world.
The possibility that this would be somehow found out and the
even more stress-inducing feeling that were I to try and be completely honest
with the person asking the question that the answer would be so
un-pitiable and grossly out of the realm of empathy
that they would then
feel sorry for me, not because of any real or rational issue
going on inside me, but for being so terribly
un-interesting and quite understandably,
from an outsider’s perspective, un-necessarily troubled
kept me from being in a general sense the most cheerful
and did make of my mood a terribly night-ruining kind of funk.
That being because I was at that moment being put upon by the strongest feeling of my life.
The feeling that there was nothing wrong
with me and that that was what was wrong with me,
the man who felt entirely put-upon by the world of not having
a serious issue and therefore being troubled immensely
and unceasingly by the feeling of un-necessary nagging pressure.
So yeah,
when he asked me if everything was all right, I lost it and I kicked his dog off of the patio.’

>>4335820

Oh wow.

>>4334592

I think you can just drop the Lord' prayer and go with the rest.

Outstanding, none the less.

First poem I've ever wrote
Title: Forever almost
Forever almost
Always forever
He's never alone but never together
He just wants someone to call his own
But no one will pick up the phone
He's been forever almost
Almost forever
Until one day, you came along
When he saw you
His heart burst into song
Forever almost
Almost never
You brought joy to this lonely feather
No matter the weather
He'll be with you
Always forever
Its not the best but I gave it a shot

I wrote just wrote a limerick. Sometimes I write poems for fun. I'm thinking about putting them into a 99cent e-book after a get like 200 of them.

Do and it's already been done.
There's nothing new under the sun.
You aren't the first
For better or worse
Everything's already been done.

If they're all about this good does /lit/ think people would like my e-book?

A poem based on a Facebook comment:

This is 'mercia we care about guns.
Fast cars and pussy.
Not Africa
He was 95
It happens.

>>4334046
I write poems for girls a lot. They are usually jokes but i have become rather fond of writing them. here are a couple.

Though warm, what glances find their way
From your eyes to my soul
Dancing across the tension of my affection
Shearing through my withheld desires
Making me wanna give you the D
Maybe in your butt, I dunno, doesn't really matter

>>4341256
Alas, lend me your heart my love
For I may not know tomorrow what is clearest to me today
To whisper into your heart and into your soul
That you lookin fine as hell girl! like fo real!

Snot running like a tap from my dumb nose.
I'll go and get a tissue I suppose.
But it keeps coming back again, again...
When will it fucking stop, god, jesus, when