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/lit/ - Literature


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1097815 No.1097815 [Reply] [Original]

Poetryfags get in here

>> No.1097818

Bump

>> No.1097822

Poetry writers? Or poetry appreciators?

>> No.1097829

>>1097822
Either

>> No.1097835

poetryfag reporting in

>> No.1097845
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1097845

i should write more poetry but i have nothing to wite about, meaby i dont know what to write about

>> No.1097846

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Poetry is the language of imagination
Poetry is a form of positive creation
Difficult, isn't it the point? Ya missin it
Rockin's kinda new to me cause my true love is poetry
I don't know what you thought hops but chief I've got tall props see
This be thee rebuttal version
To mister academic who does not believe that my poems would
could should have muscles and bodies like this one
I want my poem to be brazen and long legged
and squash mud under a hard yellow heals wicked gravity
I wish to leave this lab of brains swishing in jars
and write poems that shatter glass with undeniable bodies
I want to be a word that wants to be a sweating brick
so drink that through your pointed teeth and critique it
I want to be the strophe that strokes the ear in salty heaves
a spine that bends and works like the dance you shut the door to be
Listen to me, with your hips

>> No.1097857

OP here. Why is the majority of all modern poetry rhythmless rants about stupid shit? I probably should've put that in the first post but whatever

>> No.1097875

>>1097845
>go outside
>find inspiration in small everyday things

>> No.1097897

>>1097875
that is what i do, but i cant put my ideas in order

>> No.1097914

>>1097897
What do you mean in order?

Like, linking them into a longer composition?

>> No.1097917

>>1097914
no, how to write them down

>> No.1097937

from an old history class:

The Foreman frowned.
oh and he was ringing his hands
oh and he reeked of liquor

He had a writhing personality
and so, slithered slowly into the dust,
thus forcing his daughter to wait and watch.

But Oh then she made up her mind
and Oh if the depression hadn't killed her
then neither would a drunkard
or the accumulating dust.

She grabbed the Foreman's old axe
and dispatched of him quite quickly
and what he had been
slowly melted away
into the dust
and the wind.

>> No.1097939

>>1097917
...generally you write them down the same way you think of them.

>> No.1097960

>>1097939
but i think in pictures not words, is hard for me

>> No.1097963

>>1097937
i like this one but it's clearly not finished and was probably written while drunk.

>>1097846
>poems that attempt to define poetry are usually total shit
no exception here.

>> No.1097969

>>1097960
I am pretty sure near all people do.

What makes the poet is translating the pictures to words.

>> No.1097976
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1097976

>>1097969
i have a lot of things to think right now

>> No.1098541
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1098541

>> No.1099395

bump of ye gods