/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.1124760]

anyone wanna help me write a poem for the girl i love? it's her birthday tomorrow

[Brownbear !5EJ71eKlNQ!!6SnjW+BUlLP No.1124771]

roses are red
violets are blue
i've got a knife
get in the van.

or

roses are red, but they can also be white or yellow
violets are indeed violet
i have obsessive compulsive disorder
and my poetry skills are also lacking.


you'll get laid.

[Anonymous No.1124795]

>>1124771
such masterful poetry deserves my first post since captcha

lold

[Anonymous No.1124808]

plagiarise requiscant from wilde. not like she'll know

[­ No.1124813]

>>1124760
What is the point of giving the girl you love a poem unless you have written it yourself?

Just use a lot of alliteration and symbolism and you will do fine.

[Brownbear !5EJ71eKlNQ!!6SnjW+BUlLP No.1124814]

>>1124795
>>1124795

i am humbled.

[Anonymous No.1124820]

you can use mine OP:

I thought love was
Only true in fairy tales
Meant for someone else
But not for me
Love was out to get to me
That's the way it seems
Disappointment haunted
All my dreams

And then I saw your face
Now I'm a believer
Not a trace
Of doubt in my mind
I'm in love
I'm a believer
I couldn't leave you
If I tried

[Anonymous No.1124825]

>>1124813
i didn't say i'd just use something you guys posted, i just need some inspiriation

[Anonymous No.1124839]

you are beautiful
even though you could lose some weight
you are beutiful
despite your unibrow
you are beautiful
so what if your nose is too big?
you are beautiful
to me

honest and sweet. althought to be frank my girl got a little offended

[Mogwai !!YOt9Y28V773 No.1124849]

Sup, you stupid literal faggots.

[­ No.1124850]

>>1124820
I love that movie!

[Anonymous No.1124855]

>>1124850
me2, great poem

[Anonymous No.1124857]

There is a time for rape
and a time for pain
Mistress of my heart's eyes
you shake whilst I penetrate
And scream into silence the
scream of rape and shame
and while I know you enjoy this so
A tear falls from you holy face
And hits the earth like the rains from heaven
Oh lord I say and I continue on
For this is the time for rape my beautiful one
and tomorrow will be a time for pain

[Anonymous No.1124863]

>>1124839
If you are going to go with the insulting yet sweet poem, just use shakespeare's sonnet. you know the one.

[Anonymous No.1124868]

>>1124857
i shed a tear....deep bro, just...deep

[Anonymous No.1124899]

bumping for poems

[Anonymous No.1124908]

got my emo face on, let's do this:

Why do I write poems,
To tell you how I feel?
Why is this all so hard,
Why can’t I just be real?
I have to write my feelings
On my little piece of paper
Cuz if I told you this in person,
The girl inside, you’d hate her.
I hate these stupid love poems
Cuz I hide beneath their pages,
They’ll never let me tell you,
That I’ve cared for you for ages.

[Anonymous No.1124913]

Women are stupid and I don’t respect them,
That’s right, I just have sex with them.

Show me your genitals, your genitals…
What!
Show me your genitals…
Genitalia!
Show me your genitals, your genitals…
What!
Show me your genitals…
Genitalia!

You’re talkin’ to me about stuff…why?
I’d rather see your titties.
Now you’re talking about other stuff…why?
I’d much rather see your titties.

I can’t have sex with your personality,
and I can’t put my penis in your college degree,
and I can’t shove my fist in your childhood dreams,
so why you sharing all this information with me?

It’s not sexist ’cause I’m saying it in a song,
That’s right bitch, now take off your thong…

[Anonymous No.1125722]

thank you, kind sirs

[Anonymous No.1125727]

modification of >>1124771

roses are red, but they can also be white or yellow
violets are indeed violet
my poetic finesse is somewhat lacking
but i think you're awesome, and i really like you

[Anonymous No.1125731]

ok, so what type of help do you need, faggot ?

[Anonymous No.1125751]

[Anonymous No.1125759]

You are going to die eventually.

I love you.

[Anonymous No.1125763]

Francine Wildermuth sat slumped in her Barcalounger watching the television, with her stout legs (which terminated in sexy ankle-length leather boots) propped up on the coffee table. On the TV Oprah Winfrey was interviewing an Australian lady about some sort of "secret". Francine Wildermuth sighed. She had a secret of her own. A dirty secret. The Australian lady on the television said something about "the law of attraction". Almost without thinking, Francine moved her hand down between her ample thighs. Because that was her secret. Attraction. Sexual attraction.

It had been 15 years since her husband, Orville Wildermuth, had died in a tragic combine-harvester accident, only a week after Orville Junior was born. But now that Orville Junior had just celebrated his fifteenth birthday, he was the spitting image of his dad. The same hazel eyes peering out behind wire-framed glasses, the same plump face and slack jaw...the same way his sweatpants bulged to reveal a package of prodigious proportions.

The door to the double-wide trailer-home pushed open. It was Orville Junior, home from middle school. Francine quickly pulled her hand from between her thighs and pressed the mute button to silence Oprah. "Orv!" said Francine. "Come here and give me a kiss."

Orville waddled over to his mother's naughahyde-upholstered recliner and leaned down to give his mother a peck on the cheek. At the same time Francine turned to get a better look at him, and their lips met.

And melted into a kiss.

A moist kiss, as Francine gave way to the desire she had suppressed far too long, and shoved her tongue into Orville Junior's mouth, like pushing an oyster into a slot-machine....

[Anonymous No.1125773]

To her shock and surprise, Orville Junior kissed her back. She reached out her liverspotted hand to see if a tent-pole had sprouted beneath Orville Junior's sweatpants. But just as she made this tentative feint towards the most transgressive, yet most attractive, grope of her life....the door swung open again.

Damn. It was her other son. The black one. Kwame. Whom she'd begotten during an inadvisable one-night-stand with a negro short-order-cook, in the dark alcoholic haze of the years following Orville Senior's death.

Orville Junior pulled away from the kiss before Kwame could notice what was going on. He covered his crotch with his algebra textbook and turned towards the door of the trailer to face Kwame.

"You're home early from elementary school," said Orville Junior.

"What you talkin' bout, Orville Junior?" said Kwame, insolent and brash.

"Boys!" sighed Francine from her Barcalounger. "Don't fight! Go to your room and do your homework."

Kwame immediately slipped into the bedroom he shared with his white half-brother. Francine looked longingly at Orville Junior before he turned to follow. "Later..." she whispered, huskily. "I need this."

"So d-d-d-d-do I," said Orville Junior. He even had the same obstinate stutter as his late dad. Just the sound of it made Francine's clitoris leap beneath her Lycra leggings like a Mexican jumping-bean.

[Anonymous No.1125778]

>>1125773

....continue.

[Anonymous No.1125782]

>>1125751

*mfttttt*

[Anonymous No.1125783]

The next morning, Francine made breakfast for her two sons by pouring Fruity Pebbles into a pair of coffee cups. After they finished munching, Kwame excused himself---he wanted to get to school early that day, so he could slash the tires of the school principle.

As the door of the trailer shut behind her little mulatto bastard, Francine looked at Orville Junior, who was now eating a fistful of dry Fruity Pebbles straight from the box.

"I think we have some unfinished business," said Francine, opening her floral-print housedress to reveal her nude body, reminiscent of the Venus of Willendorff if the Venus of Willendorff had worn sexy ankle-length leather boots.

Orville Junior looked at the body of his fifty year old mother, and could see her nipples were already taut as her breasts swung in front of her knees, like a pair of pendulums that pointed the way to her snatch.

Orville Junior stared between his mother's legs.

"You've already been there once," Francine whispered, "don't you want to go back?"

"Y-y-y-yes," he stammered. "Just like D-d-d-d-disneyland."

"Except you don't have to pay to enter me, Orville Junior," said Francine, and spread wide her ample thighs to reveal her vulva, bright as a carnivorous orchid, pullulating lubriciously like a hungry baby starfish....

[Anonymous No.1125788]

>>1125783

Jesus Christ you write slow.

[Anonymous No.1125792]

Orville Junior yanked down his sweatpants, to reveal his turgid manhood, already straining towards that vagina from which it had emerged (along with the rest of him) some fifteen years ago....

"Come to Momma," said Francine Wildermuth. "Because Momma wants to cum."

Orville Junior pushed his mother backward onto the floor of the trailer, where her well-upholstered body shuddered like a jello-mold landing on a trampoline. Her legs parted and his meaty glans strained forward, pushing towards the wet hole....

"That's my bellybutton, Orv," whispered Francine, and grabbed her son's cock to reorient it.

"S-s-s-sorry, Momma," said Orville Junior. "I've never done this before."

"Neither have I," whispered Francine. "Well, not with you anyway." And despite the arthritis in her wrist, she managed to guide her son's love-log into her avid beaver.

"Motherfucker!" screamed Francine, a trifle obviously. "That feels fantastic! Do it, Orville Junior! Pin me and mount me like a butterfly!"

[Anonymous No.1125794]

>>1125792

I was all fap fap fap until i read about mounting a butterfly. How do you mount a butterfly? Fuck, now I'm not hard anymore. Goddammit.

[Anonymous No.1125799]

Orville Junior slid his bulging bratwurst into his Momma's muculent and speluncal aperture. "Oh g-g-g-god!" he wheezed, "you feel so g-g-g-g-goood, Momma!"

With every thrust of her son's prick, Francine's thighs shuddered like plum puddings, and crashed together like vast Symplegades of pink porcine flesh. She squirmed and strained beneath Orville Junior's thrusting as he began to build up a rhythm, wheezing and dripping sweat down upon his mother's body, like warm summer rain.

Orville Junior's passionate penile python squirmed deeper and deeper, as though it were blindly lunging its way through the Lincoln Tunnel, if the Lincoln Tunnel had padded and well-lubricated walls....seeking the mystery of that cervix which, fifteen years before, had slowly dilated in fitful contractions, agonizing (before the epidural anyway), a mother's pain of childbirth only to be rewarded with this sweet ironic pleasure....how much it had hurt to feel Orville Junior coming out of this same passage....and what rich ecstasies to feel Orville Junior now going back in! Again and again! With rhythmic urgency as though he was a jackhammer of meat, set loose upon an inflatable moon-bounce covered in love's own mucus....

"Don't worry about going splooge inside me, Orville Junior," Francine said breathlessly between her son's bullish thrusts, "Since I hit that menopause, we won't have a two-headed baby or nothing. Give it to me, son. Splash a warm bucketfull of your pecker-snot into my womb, like your shlong is a fire-hose and my ovaries are burning up!"

At this invitation, Orville Junior increased the vigor and intensity of his thrusts, as though he were doing push-ups atop a gigantic jelly donut....which quivered with increasing passion to match his own.

His mother's snatch gripped his wang like the firm handshake of a real-estate salesman, and would not let go...

[Timothy Price !tdpwbKxuY6 No.1125805]

Recite 'The Flea' by John Dunne, she certainly won't recognize it, and will be romanced or terrified. Winning either way, sir. Best of luck!

[Anonymous No.1125811]

hey, i remember this Orville Jr. stuff

[Anonymous No.1125825]

keep'em coming boys.

[Anonymous No.1125827]

As Orville Junior hammered away inside her lovebox, Francine carefully hoisted her breasts from where they lay strewn across the floor to either side, and held them up to his panting mouth.

"Remember these," she cried. "You couldn't stop sucking on them fifteen years ago, Orville Junior.....do it again....do it for your momma."

Orville Junior began eagerly nibbling at his mother's leathery livid nipples, like a mutt going mad with a pair of squeaky toys. He suckled at those selfsame teats, a decade and a half after he had done so for nutrition. Now he did so for sheer lust.

His engorged filial member now began to strain towards its inevitable explosion, like the pistons on an out-of-control engine which is careening on a one-way path towards a gooey collision with fate.

Only in this case fate took the form of an explosion of hot and thick gonadal gruel into the deepest seamy furrows of the tight sweet crockpot of maternal origin.

[Anonymous No.1125836]

Between her meaty thighs, Francine could feel Orville Junior's beanbag contracting, as the cremaster muscles pulled his nuts upward in preparation for blastoff, as though the Cape Canaveral of his Cowper's gland had initiated a countdown, and a million spermy astronauts in their gleaming white suits were about to launch their way beyond the far-flung Islets of Langerhans towards the Ultimate Black Hole: his own mother's all-devouring cunt, the secret matrix of her uterus which, like a Black Hole, seemed to be located deep inside at the point at which her own vast mass had collapsed in upon itself, and was now trying to suck the very jism into the vacuum of her deepest need...

A corresponding set of contractions now began to work their way through Francine's body, starting from the little red button of her clitoris, but sending shockwaves of shuddering orgastic spasms up and down the rippling billows of her cellulite, and the very walls of her cootch began to maul and tug at her son's meat-stick, in a mad fury of desire, like a baby panda with a box of bamboo candy....

"Oh lordy Orville Junior! I'm gonna climax!" Francine croaked. "You do it too! Pop your cookies for momma! Fill 'er up, just like your daddy used to do!"

"Oh Momma!" cried Orville Junior, then bit his lower lip as he prepared for the ultimate return to the womb

[Anonymous No.1125844]

As her son pounded away in the first heady rush of orgasm, Francine Wildermuth could not help herself.

She began to breathe as she had been taught in Lamaze class all those years ago.

Short shallow breaths, the same way she had once forced Orville Junior out through the same entrance that he was now re-entering, a decade and a half later.

It was like she was giving birth in reverse.

Thank the lord Jesus, she thought, for those Kegel exercises, and for those extra stitches I got when they sewed up my episiotomy. Otherwise he'd probably feel like he was tossing a hot-dog into the Grand Canyon. But this way I know I can hug him tight, the way a momma should hug her oldest son, except I'm not doing it with my arms, I'm doing it with my vagina.

And then the sweet fruition of her depraved lust began to blossom all throughout her, as orgasm hit Francine Wildermuth's body like a 8.5-on-the-Richter-Scale earthquake hitting a canned ham. Her son's goo flooded her yearning cavity like a tsunami....

A tsunami for mommy.

A tsunami of sticky seed, seasoned with sheer lust.

[Anonymous No.1125863]

i came

[Anonymous No.1125874]

We all did.

[Anonymous No.1126002]

thank you very much, mr orville jr writer person, but i don't think she'd ever look at me again if i recited even just a couple of sentences of that story to her