POST YOUR OWN POETRY

[Anonymous No.1815147]

itt:
post your own poetry

I'll start
Satie

The wooden piano stool
lets out a startled creak
beneath my weight as I
try my hand at a Satie
piece. My fingers stumble
gracefully like a drunk
missing a step and it’s
dissonant in all the wrong
ways but I don’t care
and I don’t think Satie
would either. “Beautiful,”
he would mumble beneath
his collection of umbrellas,
“just beautiful.” I mouth
out the one two three waltz
of the song as I keep my
foot on the sustain peddle
filling up the room with
a flood of color tones
I can only imagine
achieving with a multitude
of multi-colored umbrellas
spinning madly until
it all blends together.

[Anonymous No.1815157]

OP is a faggot
Whose man boobs sag,
Who can only write these
Poems for fags

[Anonymous No.1815167]

You should not smile
weep
like a river
in the spring
flooded
by melting ice

[Anonymous No.1815171]

>>1815167
another one:

I watch murders on TV with much delight
They're only fictional, it's al right

I think to myself while glaring at the glimmering screen:
What if reality was such a dream?

For the truth is - it's quite frightful:
Reality is all but delightful

[Anonymous No.1815176]

Your elegant attire won’t stop anyone from seeing who you are.
Your face will soon grow tired of hiding your truest emotions.
Please remove your makeup child.
I want to see you unvarnished for the first time.
Show me the skin he fell in love with.
Tonight I don’t care what the truth is.
Just say how you adore me, how I’m the one you’ll always love.
Take me up to the top of the world.
Tonight I don’t care that it’s only fantasy.
We’ll use each other again in the most beautiful of ways.
And in the morning we’ll forget it all and go back home.
Just like we always do.
The ending is always just a long pause for the weak like us

[danky_danks !trdDG5AD.s No.1815185]

This is the year to end all years

I thought as I looked towards the sky for the first time in ages

Light shown through the clouds

Faintly

Through all of the dust clouds and skyscrapers, there was light once again. It had been one hundred years. One hundred years of darkness, one hundred years of despair, one hundred years without hope of looking up at a night sky filled with stars or waking to a sunrise. Garbage littered the streets and clogged the sewers. The deceased were no longer buried. Too depressed to do much of anything, the living, now emotionless shells of humanity discarded of their loved ones bodies in backyards and dumpsters. I don’t think there was a hope left in a single one of us

We were getting along just fine survival wise. It didn’t happen quite as science predicted. The earth died, we kept spinning on it

I wondered if this was a second beginning or a short glimpse of the past

A split second look at an ancient sky

[danky_danks !trdDG5AD.s No.1815203]

>>1815167

good shit

[danky_danks !trdDG5AD.s No.1815234]

I want to ride
a brachiosaurus
to the jobs I apply at

[Anonymous No.1815271]

I lie on my back at midnight
hearing the marvelous strange chime
of the clocks, and know it's mid-
night and in that instant the whole
world swims into sight for me
in the form of beautiful swarm-
ing m u t t a worlds-
everything is happening, shining
Buhudda-lands,
bhuti

blazing in faith, I know I'm
forever right & all's I got to
do (as I hear the ordinary
extant voices of ladies talking
in some kitchen at midnight
oilcloth cups of cocoa
cardore to mump the
rinnegain in his
darlin drain-) i will write
it, all the talk of the world
everywhere in this morning, leav-
ing open parentheses sections
for my own accompanying inner
thoughts-with roars of me
all brain-all world
roaring-vibrating-I put
it down, swiftly, 1,000 words
(of pages) compressed into one second
of time-I'll be long
robed & long gold haired in
the famous Greek afternoon
of some Greek City
Fame Immortal & they'll
have to find me where they find
the t h n u p f t of my
shroud bags flying
flag yagging Lucien
Midnight back in their
mouths-Gore Vidal'll
be amazed, annoyed-
my words'll be writ in gold
& preserved in libraries like
Finnegans Wake & Visions of Neal

[Anonymous No.1815298]

Leonard Cohen

It's four in the morning
and I'm listening to L. Cohen
outside of the library. I may
have never been to New York City
but for a few minutes I like to
think that I'm there listening
to his music float up from
Clinton street. I light
a cigarette and pretend
that I'm a bitter poet
who could care less if
you are taking photos
of me-preferably in
black and white, please-
for another magazine interview.
"I like his music but I
wouldn't consider him an
influence," I would say
between long thoughtful drags
of my cigarette perched
cooly between my lips,
"and besides, he's a little
bit too mainstream for me,
you know?"
A passing breeze kicks
the smoke back into
my eyes and I jerk my head,
along with my headphones
and my laptop, away,
shattering my coolness
into a thousand flakes
of ember.

[Anonymous No.1815335]

These would all look more at home emblazoned on a picture of a sunset and posted on tumblr. This is not poetry; it is balls.

[Anonymous No.1815340]

>>1815335
you are balls
>>1815271
copy/pasta

[Anonymous No.1815522]

I watch
Viva La Bam
All day
At my moms house
I'm pretty cool

[Anonymous No.1815531]

>>1815522

i like the use of an unreliable narrator here

[Anonymous No.1815564]

I'm paranoid about posting my work where anyone can nab it, so here're a couple stanzas. This is about early spring in the woods of Maine.

The frost-hardened trees, running late of their season
Have crowned their grey branches with wintry reason.
Proud evergreen grove with black tips like lances
Sees pale birch-tree forest scorn his cold advances.

The cloud shaded lattice of snow 'twixt the trees,
Paw print-patterned blanket, brings warmth into these
Stolid segments of winter. Dark shapes 'gainst the white
Grasp tight to their catkins and wait for Spring's light.

[Anonymous No.1817784]

>>1815531
how so?

[Anonymous No.1817905]

Roses are red
Violets are blue
I have a gun
So get in the van

MEN- PERFECT PICK-UP POEM

[Anonymous No.1817924]

>>1815271
i really liked your style and flow, you were on a roll and held it.
post more,
1817802
try this thread too

[Anonymous No.1817928]

>>1815298
last lines are terrible,
upper poem is very damn good
thoughtful at least.
just get rid of embers and end it on something that fits the theme of the rest of the poem
embers came from no where
you weren't really talking about fire at all
excepting the cig but...

[Anonymous No.1817937]

plug on whatever, selling drugs forever
ever since i can remember loading slugs in a beretta
aimin at the bulls-eye, tennessee moonshine
keep my enemies close, like i'm on the front line
hamburger hill still eatin like it's chow time, serial killer
i'm the captain and it's crunch time play me
for a joke, fine, here's another punchline my bitch is the shit
we don't do nothing but grind
doggy style rap, i am so off the chain now
i am digital, slanging cane on paypal
bangin on wax ever since beta max
niggas want my sloppy seconds, i'm leavin table scraps

[Anonymous No.1817939]

I always appreciate criticism, or just a simple opinion.

Smallpox

"A room without doors,
within these walls."
This, he said, was God.

Pebbles formed beneath the skin.
Husband, daughter, mother, gone.
Light of an indifferent sun
heats an empty bed.
Imprint of a heavy head.

They have gone into the doorless room.
This, I say, is memory.

[Anonymous No.1817951]

>>1817939
this seems to be extremely deep... can I have a clue into what you are getting at?
ill remind you that
"Indifferent" in reference to a God figure recalls Yeats' "leda and the swan" whose "indifferent beak" line is famous for conveying this seemingly uncaring god-figure.

[Anonymous No.1817952]

Bitch nigga swass
get up off this ride
prepare the clit toss
buttermilk biscuit tide
we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire we didn't start the fire

[Anonymous No.1817954]

>>1817952
or do you mean "we didn't start the flame war"

LOLOLOLO

[Anonymous No.1817953]

>>1817939
you motherfucker, i haven't seen one of your poems in a while. you need to compile some of this shit and sell it to me.
seriously do you have your stuff saved?

[Anonymous No.1817955]

An open palm on a cool back

[Anonymous No.1817956]

THE BOARD

What the fuck am I doing on this board
wasting my time

[Anonymous No.1817958]

This bitch likes to swim
time to fuck in the pool

[Anonymous No.1817963]

"fossil."

you pass me a shovel,
rusty and caked with sand.
i understand your suggestion,
and i'm all but willing to
start digging.
almost immediately,
i press the cool blade into the earth,
jerking it around,
trying to loosen the rocks.
red-worms lift their eye-lids,
peeking from their little mounds.
torn roots are tossed aside; i must
keep looking.
then, it happens.
a clank, hollow and ringing.
i begin to paw desperately with my hands, slinging
orange-dirt into the air,
my fingers becoming bruised and pink.
i touch it.
it's touching God, in all of his glory.
it's touching a newborn baby, running your hands
over snow-white skin.
but then,
i see it.
it's just a bone.
a hair plucked from the head of history.
dead-weight, nothing i'd want to carry around
for too long.
exhausted and wet,
i escort you back to the car.
you say something about second chances,
about children and weddings.
i just nod and stare
straight ahead.

[Anonymous No.1817965]

I spotted a crooked rainbow,
a promise,
suspended in the air..
so terrible in its silence,
a curling rim of colored smoke.
The birds I once fed squealed and turned away.
The cathedral I had built sank into the ground.
Myself, an actor, left my mask buried in the mud.
The rainbow turned and turned,
throwing a strange glow onto everything,
arching and melting, wobbling and stirring.
And what will happen when this rainbow cracks,
when the colors fade and the facade collapses?
Will there be a dove? An ark to shift us to the shore?
No, no. Nothing like that, I am sure.
Just rain, endless rain.
Forty days of drowning,
an eternity of regret.

[Anonymous No.1817969]

It is not too late to see
if something can be done
for humanity

Search your inner self
and you will find fuck all and emptiness

Search the web
and you will find porn

Search, and you will search.

Searching is no longer the way to go.

Way to go.

[Anonymous No.1817978]

We are not together
We are in solitary confinement
We are all individuals
Fuck Communism

[Anonymous No.1817979]

>>1817951
Interesting that you bring up Yeats. I didn't have "Leda and the Swan" in mind when writing it, but I did have "Memory" in mind. That's where I got the imprint image from.

There was something about smallpox in an episode of Horizon, and I imagined a woman who had lost her family to it and how that might affect her ideas about God.

>>1817953
Thanks. I save everything, but I've only written about five or six poems. I have posted some other things on here, just I don't always use this image to remain a little more anonymous. I'll post another, though it's not as good as this one. Ultra-cryptic mode:

Conversations in a dream

words arc back in codas
like mirrors within mirrors
rotations in a mist
funny (strange and laughing)
rotations cloud the gist

[Anonymous No.1817980]

Lost Star

I left the house, no map,
to find the moon.

speeding near wheels
and when surges loomed,
the shoddy grip tore my hands.

halfway with that sun hill down, down;
"I just won't turn around."
ahead the rusty junker

my spindles bumped the bridge,
old on the dry sewage,
itchy on the sudden breeze.

pale soaks powered buzzing oaks;
the music for straight road stripes,
flashing under fiery dusk lamps

park trees rustle house sleep
and two feet stumble on carved craters;
the moon sailing aloft

I cry in my laugh, standing on your reflection,
beaming at your evening stare.

[Anonymous No.1817984]

You are all geniuses. I love this thread.

[Anonymous No.1817988]

yo yoyoo

my name is matthew and dont u forget it

takin out you're boys and u dont know how i did it

i know it sounds funny but lemme tell ya holmes

but i got chromes on my microphones

dat makes them more expensive
but dont be pensive
cus i droppin rhymes like i in da 313

and those numbers are lost on me
cus im not a rapper

im on the crapper

poopin rhymes like mimes doin times for hard crimes

of rapin bros in they're assholes

dont get it twisted

this shit

blowin minds like a live action c-section

traction engine traction engine

that's right traction engine, feel me holmes??

bitsch niggas call em tracktors, but im bringin back lores

of times when tractors were traction engines sudofedion

[Anonymous No.1818045]

bump

[Anonymous No.1818078]

The stars aligned right before us that night
grains of sand,
leeching, feeding
off our heat,

our souls connected,
rejoicing each others embrace.

reflections, of our past lives
crashing against rocks,
friction starts to melt,
cold regret.

the world stood still -
watching true love,
being made

when you whispered forever in my ear
I knew my path, had been laid out for me

we exchanged, pieces
of ourselves

take my hand,
we'll voyage the seas of life
Together.

"Yo dude, when are you gonna let me bang her,
we've only got her for another hour"

[REI !Ry9.23Wow. No.1818096]

GOLDEN HAZE ENVELOPS THE PLACE WHERE THE CHILDREN WENT.

FOR A PLANKTON A POND IS DEEP. A SHARK MUST ROAM FREE IN THE OCEAN; HOVERING HAMMERHEAD A ROAMBUZZ ZZZZ I GLANCE DOWN AND GRAB A SOFT BLACK ROCK IT STAINS MY HAND IT BURNS LIT LIKE DIAMONDEE RED ICE HUMMING DREAD EYE WATCHING FROM ABOVE AS THEIR FACES COMMUNICATE THE CANDY RED HAZE.
REDREDRED REDREDRED REDREDRED REDREDRED REDREDRED AND BELOW THE KINDERSCHWOF GOGOES BOPBOPBOP BOPBOPBOP…

HIS MIND, OBLITERATED SQUEAMISHLY POURING OUT THROUGH HIS PORES. AN AMORPHOUS PIECE OF FLESH ENDOWED WITH MISTY ILL GLOW OF IONS GLEAMING DIMLY ROTTING WITH THE HAZE. THE AFTERMATHICAL ECHOES OF THE WHITE SYMPHONY.

ANEYE ON VIOLET SHIFT SO MOWING FARFAR DEEP BLOOM YOUR CHILD LOST IN PEARLY HAZE; IN DROOLING EYE.

I MADE A DEVICE OUT OF THE COLD WATERING BLOOM IN MY CHEST THIS SENSE OF FALLING PASS THE STOCKING. TENDER MELANCHOLY A FANTASY OF CRYSTAL SPAWNING AND VANISHING INTO SANDY DARKENED VISION; IT NEVER HAPPENED, ATTACHING BONDS AND NODES; RED AMBIT BEFORE THE TINY SMILING FACES. REMURMUR. BOUNCING CORDS A LOW HELLO MOTION LOW HELLOW REDREDRED REDREDRED.  

[REI !Ry9.23Wow. No.1818099]

 KINDREAD SPOOK. A RUDDY ZESTY KID AT THE WHOLEWAY OF THE FOURZEST, THE SPRAWLING MATTER THAT GAZE A CANDIED HAZE THAT PIERCES TUMTUMTHUM A HAMMERHEAD TURNDURN TO CHOCOLATE OBLITERATING HIS MIND THAT SQUEMISHLY POURS OUT THROUGH HIS PORES LEAVING AN AMORPHOUS PIECE OF FLESH ENDOWED WITH LURID MEMBRANE OF IONS GLEAMING GREENLY ROTTING WITH THE GAZE. WAN WAN. I MADE A TWATY SIX TEEN DEVICE.

DIE MUNN SWALLOWS THE WHYS BETWEEN SINGING CHIRPY SPARKLES FINN TIN FINN FINN TINK FIIINN DOWN THROUGH HOWLS OF TEARING LOGOS SO SHALLOW WHOLE WHOLE!! BLABLABLABLABLA EISH!! SO LONG SO THIN TINTINTIN NUMBING DUMBING LITLIZHTAR Y SO MAD? MUNMUNMONMONMONOM NOMNOMNOM NUMNUMNUMB THE NEON WATERY AIR CRACKLING COMES DOWN IN MISCHIEVOUS JEST AS UNTERBROTHER OPENS IN RECEIVING ETHEREAL ELECTRICITY IN ITS MATERIAL WOMB SEEDY HAZY OCEAN TREMBLING CORDS ROAMBUZZ OF RED ICE CANDY AND CHOCOLATE FORTY TO THE CYAN ZEE ZEE FLOOD MUNSCHTAU THERE IS NO HORIZON COINCIDANCING RHOMBUS!!

[Anonymous No.1818104]

don't call this a city
this is a forest
the streets wind through the trees
run along the lakes
but this is no city
this place is still growing
and the day you die
it will rule again

[Anonymous No.1818109]

>>1818104
I like it a lot. Excellently observed.

My one criticism would be the lack of capitals and punctuation. I can't see how it adds to its feeling or meaning. But yes, you have a lovely way of looking at the world.

[Anonymous No.1818117]

she looks like an old friend
I don't know her name
she's missing that mole
but they all fuck the same
the sweat from her neck is stale on my tongue
the look in her eyes reveals nothing more than lust
an animalistic urge to fuck for days
I could keep this going for weeks
but she'll leave in the morning
and I'll move onto the next

[Anonymous No.1818138]

I fucked her once.
It wasn't anything to write home about.
I fucked her again.
She didn't improve,
but I kept her around.
I wish I could be content alone.

[Behemoth !!Twl3DmqEY/B No.1818206]

Clenched knuckles tremble;
in gnarled claws rise up:
southpaw clutching book,
northpaw yanking air.

Wet globes roll horse-wild, scripture
gushes forth from cratered cheeks.
Ragpants, rough coat, spoiled shoes dance
untimed schizoid semi-waltz.

Wheezing in,
shouting out:
the Good Lord's!
Humble Boy
brings bad news:
"Ya'll gotta
Come-uh tuh
JEE-YEE-ZUS!"

The brayed syllables assault
chubby people's frightened ears,
chase college kids’ swift ankles
across an unsafe crosswalk.

Smiling out the yin-
yang I wonder who
would sing in the choir
were he better-dressed.

[Anonymous No.1818260]

I walked down towards the pond.
My wee-wee was long.

[Anonymous No.1818276]

The smooth bitterness
of chewed coffee beans
pour from my father's
mouth as he speaks
to me about the Catholic
church. Something he
does when we drive
back from the supermarket
every sunday evening.
When we pass the church
where we both had our
first communion, where
he married my mother,
where he had her funeral,
he talks about the bones
of Spanish saints he
saw while in the
navy. He talks about Mary
while I watch the flickering
streetlights ruffle their
feathers before flying away
in the rearview mirror.
We arrive home and he
hands me the bread
and milk and I
put it away before
I go to my room
to wait for supper.

[Anonymous No.1818302]

>>1815185
DARK