Observing the Lemon Tree

[Anonymous No.1184265]

This branch stands tall
above all it's peers
Though alone, it is the head
all others are still beneath
...
It feels responsible
...
This branch sits far
with much open space
Though separate, is free
many wonders are seen
...
It feels happiness
...
This branch stems close
it must be balanced
Many leaves do quiver
much is done here
...
It feels success
...
This branch grows low
underside in the mud
Hands plow the earth
soil is turned for growth
...
It feels satisfaction
...
This branch is below all
it tries to please, still
Everyday knows pain
no time to know self
...
Sadness

[Anonymous No.1184270]

Don't care what you think, to be honest. Just wanted to share; pic unrelated.

[None !UyhAEqbnp. No.1184277]

>>1184270
instant bro-tier in my books

[Anonymous No.1184291]

>above all it's peers
>above all it is peers

Compared to most of the junk that gets posted on here, it's not that bad.

It's not good, either

[Anonymous No.1184290]

>>1184277

I'll be honest... while I don't care I am intrigued...

[Anonymous No.1184295]

>>1184291

Thanks for pointing that out. Hadn't seen it.

[Anonymous No.1184301]

Here is one of mine, OP
names Nick
Autumn Job
-
Girls from school halls
bring me out, up to their rooms
in the teens of the fall
rain and wind to mop and broom
-
Girls from little classes
little girl steps and talks slow
she makes progress as she passes
on a love that I don’t know
-
Girls from leafy walkways
at night as I am leaving
invite me to their hallways
at twenty they think I’m teasing
-
Girls from windows on the road
in cars that I don’t know
wheels belly-out, low with a load
like leaned back crows about to blow
-
I'm in an autumn and then another
in an overlapping loom
i have good time to be a brother
but I’ve no time with this floor and broom
-
Girls in color around the trees
beside the pumpkin colored field
wait around and hide for me
to show me all that I should feel
-
It is autumn and like a flame
I’m blue within the reddening blooms
girls from school are warmed the same
but I have work with mop and broom

[Anonymous No.1184327]

>>1184265
better than mediocre OP, which I think is pretty dandy.

>>1184301
I really enjoy this, its rhythm is almost trance inducing.

Now I feel like herping a derp myself.

Lethargic Lunacy
Sitting in a lawn chair on gravel
Doped on liquor-ish existential hair splitting
looking up into the black night at the stars on my boxer-briefs
Dotted red and white, covering varicose veins
sprawling across this comatose canary
Tossed so nonchalantly to unchivalrous end
spitting blood and cumming realizations
Loved and forgetting.

[Anonymous No.1184334]

See I was ACTUALLY looking at a lemon tree when I wrote this out in my head... but it still feels try hard.

[Anonymous No.1184344]

>>1184327
thanks for the comment, fellow.
(posted autumn one)

yours sounds like it was meant to be read aloud

[Anonymous No.1184355]

gardens in ancient cities
kissed by the blood-gray
lips of
(of a)
Dancing? skeleton

brief visits to moons
that fingerpaint; ancient blood
in the ebon sky

little death; little
lovers, resting under elms
in the gray courtyard

down a step,
up a step, too
ladybugs - red and black
I can hear them outside
like rusty razor blades
left out in the rain
on a misty autumn day
with just a little wind
the song of blood

[Anonymous No.1184368]

>>1184355
If thats a question in the first part, Id take out dancing and make skeleton specter. the K sound kinda detracts from the flow, and dancing is an unnecessary word.

Also, love the ladybugs being compared to rusty razorblades.

>>1184344
Ah yea, most of mine are.

Yours seems to be much more effective internalized, the repetition has a weird kinda progression too.

[Anonymous No.1184375]

>>1184368
Haha, actually, that was a typo! I hand-wrote this in a journal at like 3 AM after I woke up practically screaming. So it's pretty much stream-of-consciousness. Glad you liked the ladybug part ^.^

[Anonymous No.1184382]

Can we post very short stories here too? :3

One strange winter eve, when the setting sun slowly slipped southwards and the westerly winds assailed the black night, the Architect decided to walk to the nearby cemetery to visit the grave of his wife. He arrived promptly; his hands writhing glaciers, and sat next to his wife's gravestone, which the Architect half-feared would break because of the bitter cold.
'You know I love you, my dear', he affirmed. 'But I don't know how much longer I can go on. The stars are black.'
The wind continued wafting the wintery air about the graveyard. Dead trees creaked and branches whirred like whistles.
The man never returned home that night. The black stars never rose; the dead wind always blows, and the houses nearby are gray.

[Anonymous No.1184385]

>>1184375
hahaha good, 3am is a good time to write imo.

I think I'll herp once more.

Fleeing Fluxuations (want to change this title)
Katic-katic-katic-katic
Hypnotic spokes flickering like fireflies
just background to the red hair that detracts these dilligent eyes
perpetually in motion.

I don't know woes, wits, or whos about you
Just we being transitory undependable pass-or-byes
grains of sand with brownian flirtation in this despondent stream
And thats enough to know
No names, no hopes, no nothing-
Save for a lonely smile that boils blood like microwaves

Invisible & deadly expedition
Swift, whole, and carcinogenic.

I get the impulse to pry open my chest
let you peer into rotting wood,
where cobwebs caress cathartic remnants of childhood.

No, it is better
To hear the pitter-patter of pedaling
indistinguishable from any other
and expectantly whip around for just a smile.
Expecting less and no more.

[Anonymous No.1184388]

>>1184385
I really like this. Wonderful flow. The juxtaposition of strange imagery is pretty interesting. Good stuff.

[Anonymous No.1184390]

>>1184382
I liked it but I think the first bit is a little devoid of tone, which makes the alliteration seem kinda forced.

It ends pretty strong though, brevity is an effective writing device my good friend

[Anonymous No.1184395]

"Yours seems to be much more effective internalized, the repetition has a weird kinda progression too."

yeah, I'd say that it does... it is very Yeats inspired but i like the ambiguity of it... though i don't know what others think of it just yet... i wrote it particularly recently

[Anonymous No.1184398]

>>1184388
Ah thanks, I've been mulling over submitting it to the art 'zine at my college. I am pretty proud of that particular late night musing.

[Anonymous No.1184402]

>>1184382
the S alliteration in the beginning is just absolutely unnecessary and NOT natural.
how are black stars going to rise?
why does the man tell his wife's gravesite some ambiguous and seemingly MEANINGLESS statement?????

[Anonymous No.1184401]

>>1184395
I'd definitely like to see more of that, you seem to be comfortable with that style.

[Anonymous No.1184408]

>>1184401
i sure am, here is another one for you, written a few days ago:
(in word doc it is centered)

fifteen songs
all half as long
Van Morrison's CD
i stole it and bothered
the collection of my father
Van Morrison's Astral Weeks
closed speakers in the closed car
and soon my street is fifty far
i roll wind-in; my windows down
in June farmer's fields i just lay
hear from my car Van sometimes say
specs of stories that act around
out on top of dry flat corn
flute whistles loud as the horn
and sound high through the wideness
song and song and start again
together tunes; old family friend
Astral Weeks comes warm and darkless

[Anonymous No.1184423]

(posted autumn and van morrison poems in this thread)
boils blood like microwaves
-this is fuckin cool
good rhyme of wood and childhood

nice ending

what is this poem about?
who are your favorite poets?

[Anonymous No.1184443]

>>1184423
Ahahaha thanks.

Its about how absurd it is how attatched we can get to someone we never know. And in retrospect how little we know about what we love. And I'm fine with that.

My favorite poet is probably Ginsberg. Its pretty obvious I take some of what he does, but I think I apply a good amount of myself in all my pieces.

[Anonymous No.1184545]

Bumping for more anons to vomit their poetry

[Anonymous No.1184549]

Leaves

The leaves at the end of the grass
with waxy tails
are swirling in the street as cars pass
like fray-end red soft scales.

Would the wind blow mine off
if I was a fish in the road
with a loose outer coat
to part with in the wind,
could I see from the porch
the rough branches in the current of the wind
wrinkling over a weeks time
in a wind-facing wink.

[Anonymous No.1184577]

Name's Nick
Death To A Three Year Old
-
Death to you is where
your saved birthday cards stop
from the box-bottom up,
the third card tops the top
-
Hold three fingers up
wave them around, see
all those in-betweens between
these finger-high thin three
-
We save them -you by waving
these three years are not too hard
but by three cards
you're close to death, yes, you're thee cards far.

[Anonymous No.1184584]

>>1184545

This is why no one reads poetry these days.

Keep your vomit to yourselves.

[Anonymous No.1184589]

STOP RHYMING HOLY FUCK

[Anonymous No.1184594]

>>1184577

Goddamn that is great.
The tone and meter give such an intoxicated apathy
And then you look back and see what happened in the lines.

Great job anon.

[nick No.1184597]

>>1184589
i will rhyme and damn finely as i please
and with your post here i'll consider it a tease
and just when you thought that rhyming was dead
i am here on your screen-in front of your head
and i come to rhyme because it makes ideas
more fun on lines, THESE are fun lines, can you see us????????

BAHAHAHA

[Anonymous No.1184602]

>>1184584
everybody vomits

[nick No.1184603]

THANKS a lot anon!
i really worked that one out to work well
i appreciate the praise

[Anonymous No.1184614]

>>1184597

You rhyme because you have nothing to tell, and no images to make.

Your heroes live in Hallmark. Enjoy.

(your quickly responded post, which rhymes, should show you how easy it is.)

[Anonymous No.1184630]

>>1184614
Rhyming like halmark when you write about a dead 3 year old is a pretty effective means of irony broseph.

I pretty much never rhyme, but it can be used pretty effectively

[nick No.1184634]

>>1184614
what heroes, who?
what odd supposing do you do?
is rhyming, then hallmark too????????
have you forgotten the poets of the past???
what to them is due??????
do you take on that the rhyme cannot last?
my friend, where you speak from, near facts ARE FEW.

[nick No.1184648]

i am waiting, poem contemplating
come jump in
if your stump is thin
and you have nothing to stand on
because i can go on in verse
this type of thing i rehearse
every day, a poet, you antagonistic Anon!

[Anonymous No.1184665]

>>1184614
know who else rhymes, bro?
ever hear of a cat named LORD MOTHERFUCKING BYRON?
dude was killer, cold as ice.
wrote hundreds of lines per night of perfection,
all rhyming.

suck a hog. rhyme on, nick!

[Anonymous No.1184678]

chain-link tinkle
scratching pebble
in the tread of a shoe

at the yellow window
I stand on toe tips

rustling tumbleweed
pinned to the wall
by a stiff wind

at the yellow window
I sway on toe tips

back on the street
red as a beet
i'll never touch you

from the blackened window
I walk on toe tips

[nick No.1184687]

>>1184678
would go over well if read aloud