[ 3 / biz / cgl / ck / diy / fa / ic / jp / lit / sci / vr / vt ] [ index / top / reports ] [ become a patron ] [ status ]
2023-11: Warosu is now out of extended maintenance.

/lit/ - Literature

View post   
File: 312 KB, 1680x1050, Another World.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
1599290 No.1599290 [Reply] [Original]

Flash Short Poem Thread

write a poem in 80 words or less, and post it.

>> No.1599295

Why is the dark the hello to the night
The night is something that requires no introduction
For it is here and here to stay
Until the day comes and sinks its tongue
Down into the lake, the lake of dreams
The puddle of water that stops at the seams
Full of glistening drops and bubbling ducks
The ocean is no match for the size of the trucks
The trucks that rattle over large tall bridges
Reconcilement of small angry pigeons

>> No.1599296

A congregation of:
scarves in thirty degree temperatures,
gargantuan lenseless spectacles
and satchel-bags from that shop in town.

Drainpipes extenuate those crotches on men,
that’s why they’re unattractive:
the opposite of what they hoped
to look like in them.

They’re all like non-conformist punks
who all share the same Mohawks,
and wear the same patched leather jackets
and tartan trunks.

>> No.1599303

can you breathe with less fire
every inhale of your righteous lungs
causes me to slip further
the less you talk
the more i like you

>> No.1599310

My body is so radiant
So strong and defined
My personality is fantastic
Interesting and refined
Everybody loves me
I don't have to try
Unfortunately all of the above
Is a fallacy or lie

>> No.1599405

That place, an endless ocean filled with piss,
Where newfags frolicked 'midst the fags of old,
A fit of pique! The godly moot said this:
"This shit with /r9k/ is getting old",
And lo, did moot the gloomy board strike down,
The sadden'd robots knew not what to do,
And moot made /soc/, prepared to don his crown,
As mighty king of facebook, version two.

>> No.1599424

>>1599405


r.i.p. /r9k/

>> No.1599452

hey idiots

i have plagiarized all your short poems

will compile a book soon

enjoy your hard work while i reap rewards


Allahu Snackbar

>> No.1599473

the one thing that was all
is now dull and plain
have i lost the eye to see

was this my torment
or is the demon gone
should my happiness be done

>> No.1599485

Do our feet look much like mice?

This dance has done this to me twice

When this waltz has come to finish

This day i think, will become a bit skittish

>> No.1599493

Lighting, lightning, quick and bright,
tell me where you'll strike tonight.
Is this the Time or place to run,
when all but Time turns into none?

>> No.1599499

>>1599493
that makes no sense

i hate it when people use "figurative" language just because they can't think of anything

and yes, there is a lot of genuine figurative language

but that post contained none

>> No.1599511

To the girl in my dream,
Your love overwelms me
Your kiss empowers me
This is truly an amazing sensation
as I fall in love with a figment of my imagination
I don't know your name
Yet this feeling burns like a flame
And thats how I feel about the girl from my dream.

- KS

>> No.1599520

>>1599511

It's a good job I have a sick bucket under my desk.

>> No.1599525

The thread so far fills me with sorrow,
To read it is a waste of time.
I hope, when I come back tomorrow,
To see more poems here that rhyme.

>> No.1599529

>>1599525

I got told by my college tutor a couple of years ago that my poem wasn't a poem because it didn't rhyme. I hope you're trolling because I'd happily slap you as well.

>> No.1599537

>>1599520

whats the issue? Your criticism is self contradicting.

>> No.1599538

the last of the harpies is
writhing in the
smiling at us, and the corn has reached our knees,
so be warm, ending! and glow, orange, robin's egg
the hood returns and covers and leaves,
and we sit in the corn and hold hands round the corpse,
adrift and warm

>> No.1599544

>>1599537

How is that self-contradicting?

Issues:
1) It's full of cliche. In fact, the whole thing is one cliche in itself
2) It's something a 14-year-old emo would write in their diary
3) Capitalization at the start of each line is...well I shouldn't even need to explain that.

>> No.1599556

>>1599544

Also, 4) you can almost...taste the forced rhyming, it's that obvious.

>> No.1599558

>>1599424
It's not dead...

>> No.1599562

>>1599556

k thanks ill work on it next time. This is my first attempt outside of school.

>> No.1599568

>>1599562

Don't feel the need to force a rhyme just because you think it would sound good. Sometimes amazing poetry has not rhyming at all.

If you enjoy and want to rhyme, try internal rhyming or even assonance, it's a lot more fun and sounds nicer when read aloud.

Sorry if I've come across harsh, I'm super tired.

>> No.1599593

>>1599499
Whoops, I didn't really mean for it to be or sound figurative. I just thought it sounded nice together. I suppose it's all just subjective anyway.

>> No.1599708

>>1599558

There still remained a single robot brave,
And so a new robotic home he sought,
Beyond the gaze of that unscrup'lous knave,
Against the dreadful plan of moot he fought.
In time a second robot board was born,
Away from their destroyed ancestral lands,
Where disenfranchised robots came to mourn.
Their fates now lay in this new admin's hands.

A knock was heard upon the new board's doors,
From /new/ their exiled brothers came inside.
For stormfront fags whom mott had so abhorred,
The robot gates were now held open wide.


(OK can someone who actually knows about this stuff tell me whether or not I am writing in iambic pentameter? I think I am, but I don't know about all this technical things).

>> No.1599710 [DELETED] 

>>1599708

And if you think I'm going to delete and repost just because of that one type, you are mistaken.

(Damn it)

>> No.1599727

The Wheel

Through winter-time we call on spring,
And through the spring on summer call,
And when abounding hedges ring
Declare that winter's best of all;
And after that there's nothing good
Because the spring-time has not come ---
Nor know that what disturbs our blood
Is but our longing for the tomb.

>> No.1599739

>>1599568
I,am,a,face.
I,move,I,live.
I,think,I,am.
I'm,done.

>> No.1599771

>>1599727
I like this one.

>> No.1599803
File: 47 KB, 350x500, Yeats.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
1599803

>>1599771
Thanks, I wrote it myself.

>> No.1601541
File: 114 KB, 500x375, HMMEIMEI.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
1601541

IT IS AT EVERY CORNER WHERE THE COLOURS AND LOGOS SPRAY IN A STREAM OF FURIOUS AND DAZING DANCE OF ELECTROLISIS (SHE SPITS OUT OF HER WOMBY LIPS DRIPPING WITH SWEET POISCHON) WITH THEIR REPTILE HUMMING THAT ACTUATES DREAD AND NUMBING OF SENSES SHIMMERING GLORIOUS EYE SPLATTERING AND EJACULATING GUSHES OF MIGHT I AM UNVOLUNTARILY RECOILED UNDER ITS STREAM OF NUISENSE NUMBING LIGHT OF DAY ALWAYS COLD AND PIERCING.

>> No.1601571

Pensive, apprehenisive,
Two shades, shy, speak,
Colours smothered by doubt,
Mothered by those that seek
Nothing to change, challenge, or choose,
Bred to submit, raised to serve,
Destined to lose.

Bright bulbs boldly bloom­,
But none too soon,
For bravery brazen
Captures minds of fools,
As silent, together,
We hide from the moon.

>> No.1601603

Pointy birds,
oh pointy pointy.
Anoint my head.
Anointy nointy.

>> No.1601604

>>1599803
>>1599727
There is a Dorothy Parker poem somewhat similar to this:

On Being A Woman

Why is it, when I am in Rome,
I'd give an eye to be at home,
But when on native earth I be,
My soul is sick for Italy?

And why with you, my love, my lord,
Am I spectacularly bored,
Yet do you up and leave me- then
I scream to have you back again?

>> No.1601613

Crab Glue

Crab Poo,
makes hard Glue,
it sticks to You,
If you have Flu,
maybe you,
Should avoid,
Crab Glue.

>> No.1601616

Moskovskaya
and then some red bull
ripped off, man.
'cause I'm white?
'cause I'm white.
Let me tell you...
Let me tell you some shit
man
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
a poem about real life, by Vdubby

>> No.1601632

>>1601616
0.2/10

>> No.1601638

>>1601632
Just means you can't handle real life.

>> No.1601642

I watched my plume of thin, gray smoke vanish
Into a leaden sky and wondered why
I just can't seem to muster up a damn.

>> No.1601652

Realise

The Blue Bird
On metaphorical wings
becomes the hipsters tongue.

Lost writers are mourned for
If they stay silent.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Everything's possible
Nothing is true

>> No.1601661

Mary had made some tasty wok,
she ate and heard the door unlock.
She would soon sit on mighty chair.

Gotcha!

>> No.1601665

>>1601652
The last bits out of V for Vendetta isn't it?

>> No.1601670

>>1601665
Smart fella.

>> No.1601672

My Natural Disaster

like lightning
before thunder
all but ashes after
the forest fire
under violent quakes
creep massive plates

In your eyes are
sea levels rising
that frozen shell
finally melting

and so,
when I hear you crack
and watch you burn
and feel you shift

Once again,
I meet my fate
It is already too late

>> No.1601686

>>1601652
>>1601670
That poem wasn't bad btw. Apart from the hipster part, that seemed a bit forced.

Nah, just kidding. It sucked.

>> No.1601759

We are sitting on the front porch
smoking clove cigarettes

the wind carrying the smell
of week-old garbage

the child crying inside.

>> No.1601777

>>1601759
"West Virginia"