Poetry Thread

[Anonymous No.18330080]

This is a post and rate thread
So post your own shit
No rate = No feedback
You know the drill

[Anonymous No.18330088]

Dimensioner:
projektionen af udenfor (3) på min tonede bilrude (2)
uden aftryk af refleksionen af mit gennemsigtige selv (1)


translation


Dimensions:
the projection of outside (3) on my tinted window (2)
without imprint of the reflection of my transparent self (1)

[Anonymous No.18330101]

Bark, bark, said the fish
I am a girrafe

[Anonymous No.18330820]

>>18330101
beautiful

[Anonymous No.18330826]

I like to smoke weed
and weed likes to be smoked by me.

I am a weed smoker.

[Anonymous No.18331335]

A tower stands on the edge of time
Upon it stands the astral mind
The burning chaos-sphere seethes behind
Ours to see, yet we are blind
The eyes of God look upon what he's done
And the eyes of Man look on and beyond
I am a god, I am the one
Into the chaos, see my time has begun

[Anonymous No.18331431]

The first day burst in harsh light all over;
The second crashed and crushed witnesses dead;
The third day flared at all of the clover;
The fourth fell silent, blood flowed ever red.

>>18330101
You spelled "giraffe" wrong.
>>18331335
You could replace "beyond" with "on"; otherwise, this is great.

[Anonymous No.18331614]

Baby's black balloon makes her fly
I almost fell into that hole in your life
You're not thinking about tomorrow
'Cause you were the same as me
But on your knees.
A thousand other boys could never reach you
How could I have been the one?
I saw the world spin beneath you
And scatter like ice from the spoon
That was your womb.
Coming down, the world turned over
And angels fall without you there
And I go on as you get colder
Or are you someone's prayer?
You know the lies they always told you
And the love you never knew
Was it things they never showed you?
That swallowed the light from the sun
Inside your room, yeah.
Coming down, the world turned over
And Angels fall without you there
And I go on as you get colder
Always someone's prayer
And there's no time left for losing
When you stand, they fall, yeah.
Coming down, the world turned over
And angels fall without you there
And I go on as you get colder
All because I'm
Coming down, the years turned over
And Angels fall without you there
And I'll go on and I'll lead you home and
All because I'm
All because I'm
And I'll become what you became to me

[Anonymous No.18332707]

>>18330080
>improvements?

You push, I shove
Was in love
With you

New ceiling
New city

All fine and pretty

You stall for time

No longer mine
That's fine

I pushed
And shoved

Outta love

Cry my dove

The sun shines
The moon falls

At least I had balls

>>18330826
>I am a weed smoker.
Your a shitty poet as well
>>18331335
meh
>>18330101
garbage
>>18330088
a repost
>>18331431
good concept bad execution

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18332828]

>>18331335
Points for keeping the rhyme and rhythm, doesn’t have enough imagery I think, reminds me kinda of a death grips song without the energy.

>>18331431
Your rhymes feel forced as does the entire line because of the structure, harsh light all lover in itself doesn’t sound so good, crashed and crushed feels cheap and while “witnesses dead” is fine technically, it gives off the impression of a contorted line.

Blood flowed ever red is also a weak line.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18332839]

I plan to shape this poem into the form of a pentagram using the proper sense-point identifications in tantra, but until then, here is the poem.

A point inside a pentacle

the heart is a heart of glass,
daily new colors fill it
but none can stain the spirit;
each passion is soon to pass.

each taste leaves a man thirsty;
for the taste of each new wine
is mingled with heavy brine
drawn from the river lethe.

both the smell of myrrh and musk
become hidden and withdrawn,
for the vibrancy of Dawn
must dissolve into the dusk.

and supple skin is a lie,
for there is no truth in youth;
ripe is the flesh of the fruit
when it is Rot, soon to die.

a recited libretto,
the bellow of the street hounds,
sparrows on funeral grounds,
each mingle as one echo.

God is The center; changeless,
if to him you draw nearer;
mirror reflecting mirror,
revealed is the name nameless:
I

[Anonymous No.18332967]

We hide and huddle like
Spanish lovers in Ireland.

Death, I want thine eye
Wet, right in front of mine

>>18330826
What was the inspiration behind this, I wonder?
>>18331335
Could do with some work. Feels like there are needless words in here, omit anything that isn't serving your poem.
>>18331431
Good. I like it. Interesting, for sure.
>>18331614
Overly wordy and lacks style. Reads line angsty diary enteries. Would work in a song.
>>18332707
Decent enough i think. Feels bare, i want more.
>>18332839
Some parts are good, stanza one - brilliant. Stanza two starts to bore me around the last two lines. Stanza three, good. Downhill from here, last stanza is a dissapointment. Your conception of God seems half-baked, i want more.

[Anonymous No.18333003]

>>18330088
Its okay, like. You should probably work on something new.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18333132]

>>18332967
Rip. Thank you, the above isn’t my entire conception of God, simply God as the changing power pervading creation.

Pentacle isn’t done yet, still need to brighten and bold the letters.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18333143]

>>18333132
Think I might remove the literal pentagram in order to maintain the shapes of the stanza and make it look cleaner.

[Anonymous No.18333174]

Rosette swirl, deft merl pop
Singing now swinging
Chittering leans against the chilled November reeds
Sliding down wind's chimney, stop,
Notes rest against the reeds

[Anonymous No.18333448]

>>18331431
sick af poem

Sophia! Sophia! before my death,
entreat thee I, grant this bequest.
May enrapturing light break dawn
on the fifth morn and shadow doubt

[Anonymous No.18333669]

sit, breathe and count
all that a mind wants
what falls on its own accord
fall asleep awake, meditate

design the old cards
mail the past numbers
draw the last lines again
grab a pen tracing, pacing

we laugh to wake again
see the patterns of life
slough off the weight
I promise myself, afresh

[Anonymous No.18333874]

>>18330826
this is the best in the thread

[Anonymous No.18333960]

before the blue valley of dawn
I feel serene and calm

[Anonymous No.18333993]

>>18331335
The imperfect rhyme with "time" in the beginning and the randomly unrhymed "beyond" makes the poem sound clumsy. Im also not sure what the poem is ultimately about. I prefer poems with clear messages, but if you like otherwise that's fine.

[Anonymous No.18334005]

drive boy, dog boy, dirty, numb angel boy
in the doorway boy, she was a lipstick boy
she was a beautiful boy and tears boy
and all in your inner space boy
you had hands girl boy and steel boy
you had chemicals boy, I've grown so close to you, boy
and you just groan boy, she said, "come over, come over"
she smiled at you boy

let your feelings lift, boy, but never your mask boy
random blonde boy, high density
random blonde boy, blonde country
blonde high density
you are my drug boy, you're real boy
speak to me and boy, dog dirty numb cracking boy
you get wet boy, big, big time boy, acid bear boy
and babes and babes and babes and babes and babes
and remembering nothing boy, when you like my tin horn boy
and get wet like an angel, derail

you got a velvet mouth, you're so succulent and beautiful
shimmering and dirty wonderful
and hot times on your telephone line
you got to never land on your telephone and in walks an angel

[Anonymous No.18334007]

>>18331431
The third line sounds grammatically wrong and the meter is off throughout the poem but especially in the last line.

[Anonymous No.18334014]

Black birds, baby blue sky
Crows feet, youths eye

[Anonymous No.18334026]

>>18332839
I don't get it. Thirsty and lethe don't rhyme as well as all the others so it sounds weird but is not too important. Meter also needs work.

[Anonymous No.18334039]

>>18333174
The imagery is nice, but it is unconnected to anything else interesting.

[Anonymous No.18334043]

>>18334014
It doesn't saying anything, just imagery, if that's the poem.

[Too lazy to complete parody or(...) No.18334233]

The man-in-sneed, in sneed a hero,
From the foreign boards of chan,
Bounced from pornhub here his fapping
With her rampart to his tapping,
Yearns his growth from penis zero,
Sucks for fruitless hormone mans.

[Anonymous No.18334480]

Would appreciate any feedback for pic related, my poem. My critiques were these.
>>18333993
>>18334007
>>18334026
>>18334039
>>18334043

[Anonymous No.18334489]

>>18334480
Stupid and gay
>>18334233
10/10

[Anonymous No.18334533]

>>18334007
The third line is not grammatically incorrect, but the metre probably is off.

[Anonymous No.18334535]

Withdrawing from apples
You're definitely not being followed
Hurry, hurry
In the end... I'll kill ya!

[Anonymous No.18334539]

>>18334480
Reads like a silly Romantic pastiche. Also, the namedropping is jarring and pedantic, it doesn't add to anything.

[Anonymous No.18334554]

>>18333669
>fall asleep awake, meditate
Only good lines

[Anonymous No.18334627]

>>18334533
I see its just awkward then.

[Anonymous No.18334632]

>>18334539
I can see that.

[Anonymous No.18334633]

Returneth lovers to thine first caress
when passionate sighs first intertwined
and long hair piled upon rippled chest
express't sentience like no other kind

Heed when next sultry flesh meets sultry flesh
with a slightly diminished ecstacy
Never as great as when the fruit is fresh
always savor the fading property

[Anonymous No.18334749]

>>18334633
Is the last line appropriate for the tone of the poem? It sounds like theres a gap between "its not as good now" and "always savor the fading property", why always savor it?

Mine:
Good Morning

It's the Dawn, ah, the Dawn,
To deliver the fawn,
The World's in the womb,
As dark as a room
Within which Night's curtains are drawn,
How softly aloft
On the sky rides the wet nurse called "Dawn".

Good Morning, Good Morning!
Today is aborning,
The Sun lights the birth
Of the beautiful Earth,
And unveils the garlands adorning,
Oh, the Day guides the way,
To the World's quiet crib of the Morning.

Oh Morning, sweet Morning,
Please, heed my fair warning,
The child has awoke,
Keep them warm in your cloak—
For fear of the Lord and His scorning—
A cloak of newly laid dew,
Interwove with the fresh light of Morning.

It is noon, it is noon!
And already so soon,
When the Sun's rays, unfurled,
Light with glory the World,
And the green pastures bust out their boon,
The bowers of flowers
Are a vast crown of blues and maroon.

Afternoon? Afternoon.
My, how Time is impune,
As he pushes the Sun,
The shadows do run,
And Evening's arrival is soon,
The shade is afraid
Of the Sun, lest he sleepily swoon.

Eve, Eve, Oh Eve,
Please do not leave,
The Earth heads for bed
In golden and red,
And asks you a sunset to weave,
The Sun isn't done
'Till with peachy pinks does he bereave.

Dusk, Dearest Dusk,
Dare not to fusk,
Are you leaving us now
With your indigo brow,
To leave us in blackness so brusque?
Fades your purple brocades,
No light left to call you the Dusk.

Night...Night,
Without light,
Dark and lonely,
Cold and only
Is the World left to shiver in fright,
Unprepared to be scared
By the shadows and dark shapes of Night.

Wait, the Moon, It's the Moon!
From her cloudy cocoon,
She brightens the night,
With her pale white light,
And a twinkling star festoon,
The World soundly sleeps curled
In the magic moonlight she has strewn.

No mourning, no mourning,
Soon it is morning,
The moon will retire,
As the Sun rises higher,
The darkness and shadows adjourning,
You'll know by the glow
Of the blue-hued hope of the morning.

[Anonymous No.18336305]

bump

[Anonymous No.18337317]

>>18334749
Each stanza could be shorter. Each stanza has at least two lines that are not needed and fuck up the rhythm.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18337354]

>>18334026
What’s there to get? Each stanza corresponds to a traditional point of the pentagram which corresponds to one of the five senses. Also are you sure about lethe? Le-thee-thur-stee doesn’t sound to bad to me. And there’s no regularity in the meter other than syllable length, how does it sound ?

[Anonymous No.18337948]

>>18334749
Thank you. I think your stanzas could use regularity in each of their last two lines, it would really make it pop. I like the concept and the imagery. Aborning! thanks for the new vocabulary.


Mine poem:

Revisit, O lovers, thine first caress.
When passionate sighs first intertwined
and long hair piled upon rippled chest
express't sentience like no other kind

And next when sultry flesh meets sultry flesh
Lessened is the quivering of the spine.
Lest ye stall til passion grows feverish
Each passing moment sweetens un-drank wine

Desire pounds like thunder in the breast
mounting fury with the passage of time.
Highest heaven engulfs just ere lips press'd
turgid uncertainty sustains the clime.

[Anonymous No.18337964]

>>18337948
>>18334749
regularity in the meter, I meant.

[Anonymous No.18337969]

The Rape of the Clock

His hands doth night and day discern,
and in his hands Anon craves sojourn.
Gentle hands with sweet caress,
comfort Anon when he’s depressed.
Moans were let out on the hour,
at midnight Anon came with a vicious power. Although the clock did not consent,
Anon did not repent.

[Anonymous No.18338129]

>>18337354
I don't know anything about pentagrams linked to senses traditionally, but if that's just ignorance on my parent then it doesn't matter. Lethe and thirsty aren't as close rhymes as the others which makes it sound off in comparison. If theres no regularity in your meter then you're bound to have some lines that will disrupt what is the most natural meter of speech: iambic. If it was written in simple iambic, even with variation in foot number, I think it would sound better, but there's many who see regular meter as anachronistic, so take that as you will.
>>18337317
Which two lines from the stanza would you remove to make it sound better?

[Anonymous No.18338191]

>>18337948
I like the irregularity of the last two lines as it contrasts with the regularity of the first two. Your poem is erotic, right?

[Anonymous No.18338371]

>>18338191
Thank you. Been posting little shit for a few days. I'm new to writing poetry so I'm not sure how technical this has to be. I started with intent to complete a sonnet.
If it's erotic to you then it's erotic.

[Anonymous No.18338372]

>>18334749
>It's the Dawn, ah, the Dawn,
>To deliver the fawn,
>The World's in the womb,
>As dark as a room

>Good Morning, Good Morning!
>Today is aborning,
>The Sun lights the birth
>Of the beautiful Earth
.
>Oh Morning, sweet Morning,
>Please, heed my fair warning,
>The child has awoke,
>Keep them warm in your cloak

>It is noon, it is noon!
>And already so soon,
>The Sun's rays, unfurled,
>Light, with glory the World,

>Afternoon? Afternoon.
>My, how Time is impune,
>As he pushes the Sun,
>The shadows do run,
>The shade is afraid

>Eve, Eve, Oh Eve,
>Please do not leave,
>The Earth heads for bed
>In golden and red,

>Dusk, Dearest Dusk,
>Dare not to fusk,
>Are you leaving us now
>With your indigo brow,

>Night...Night,
>Without light,
>Dark and lonely,
>Cold and only

>Wait, the Moon, It's the Moon!
>From her cloudy cocoon,
>She brightens the night,
>With her pale white light,

>No mourning, no mourning,
>Soon it is morning,
>The moon will retire,
>As the Sun rises higher,

[Anonymous No.18338493]

building castles in the skye whilst commending ergot rye

fixed like tweak K binges just to even out the high

you need to be prescribed the summer shade in this place held together with powerlines

and radio waves

[Anonymous No.18338519]

Sonnet désamoureux

C’est bien évidemment au clair gris de la Lune,
Toute pleine ce soir de vœux inexaucés,
Dans les derniers fragments de chaleur opportune
De ce jour éclatant qui nous a dépassés.

Assis sur le balcon comme dans le poème,
Nous nous tenons les mains en murmurant des bouts
De ces phrases qu’on dit sans se dire « je t’aime »
Quand on hésite un peu à jouer son va-tout.

Il faut avoir du cœur pour vivre bien et vieux,
Il faut savoir mentir pour connaître son âme,
Il est des avanies pour les seuls orgueilleux ;

Taraudé par l’instant l’impénitent déclame
Pour s’épargner un peu devant la belle dame,
Mais comment lui dire ce que disent ses yeux ?

[Anonymous No.18338632]

>>18338371
If you're new to poetry I recommend Paul Fussell's Poetic Meter and Poetic Form. Taught me more than anything else and stuff I've never heard anywhere else. You can probably find it online somewhere or if you go to college you can find it in the library or order it from another.

[Anonymous No.18338645]

>>18338372
I'd like to say more in a stanza than 4 lines allows. I've also read it over so much that it sounds wrong to me without the ending. Another thing is that I wanted it to be a unique structure, so the catalectic lines help with that as well.

[Anonymous No.18339066]

What does reason betray,
about that which inhabits the clay,
so that once organized will say,
"I'm walking and observing myself"?

Save fashioning sentience to convey
to an open ocean of love;

the difference between night and day,
sorrowful and gay,
where is safe to stray,
and where not.

[Anonymous No.18339240]

>>18330080

Quando questi vizi miei colpiscono
la carta su cui scrivo son catene
che con grinfie di pece mi ghermiscono
e mi fan soffrire infinite pene

Ma se lascio il mondo dietro
contemplando solo uccelli e cielo
l’animo mio non è più tetro
e sono ormai libero e cieco

Cieco a qualsiasi preoccupazione
che prima mi chiudeva in gabbie
dorate privandomi di razione

Ora va, sonetto mio, a rivelare
ciò che ho scoperto in una tiepida
sera d’estate, e non attardare

[Anonymous No.18339390]

where did that baste pasta italian poem go?
was just here a second ago.

[Anonymous No.18339816]

They Are Human After All

They are human after all, you think,
as the waiter steps up to a table
out of sight of you,
reserved, corner table—
they too are thin-skinned and pleasure-seeking,
with their own feelings and their own sufferings.

You’re not so all alone
in your mess, your restlessness, your shakes,
they too will be full of doubt, dither, shilly-shallying,
even if it’s all about making deals,
the universal-human
albeit in its commercial manifestations,
but present there too.

Truly, the grief of hearts is ubiquitous
and unending,
but whether they were ever in love
(outwith the awful wedded bed)
burning, athirst, desert-parched
for the nectar of a faraway
mouth,
sinking, drowning
in the impossibility of a union of souls—

you won’t know, nor can you
ask the waiter,
who’s just ringing up
another bock,
always avid for coupons
to quench a thirst of another nature,
though also deep.

[Anonymous No.18339917]

>>18332967
It’s a song by the goo goo dolls some anon posted it pretending to have written it lol

[Anonymous No.18340062]

>>18339917
Which one?

[Anonymous No.18340385]

>>18340062
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=emguA0RIH4k

[Anonymous No.18340553]

Why do I feel embarrassed while reading poetry? I bought an anthology of English poetry and half of it is “Oh! Let us away love to the dim cloisters of your snatch” etc... I cringe. Dickinson and Poe I like though, I also seem to like poems about nature more. Did you anon feel this way at all?

[Anonymous No.18341011]

>>18340553
Do you just not like poems about love?

[Anonymous No.18341020]

>>18340553
No. Now tell me more about taking me to the dim cloisters of my snatch.

[Anonymous No.18341134]

>>18341011
Yeah idk I get really bad second hand embarrassment when reading them because they sound stupid and all sound alike. It has to be really great but also kind of subtle for me to like lovey dovey poems. This one by Shakespeare I like.

[Anonymous No.18341450]

>>18341134
What about more funny ones, like The Vine by Herrick or The Flea by Donne? What about other really good ones like To His Coy Mistress by Marvell, or Wyatt's Whoso List to Hunt? Poe also has a couple love poems I like.

[Anonymous No.18341613]

>>18338645
>I'd like to say more in a stanza than 4 lines allows
Then make it rhyme and flow with the other lines in the stanza.

[Anonymous No.18341672]

>>18330080
Fleeting taste of toes, escape my tongue
No satisfaction, from a foot so young

Underneath my nose
Pretty little toes
God only knows

What perfect feet
On a perfect bride.

Her ten toes
I don't know
Evade me still

Just me
My ink and quill.

>>18332707
my rates.

[Anonymous No.18341942]

>>18341613
I also wanted something unique

[Anonymous No.18341950]

>>18341672
Not bad for a fetish piece
>>18341613
>>18341942
Something unique in terms of stanzaic structure*

[Anonymous No.18342392]

"good morning" said espresso girl

at the street sweeper's rest stop
oh darling say goodbye to
the station before starting

"good morning" said the owner

of our moments at the betshop
to the losers who were gambling
the bruises they had stolen

from the girls they disappointed

"good morning" said the lovers
on the last day of winter to the evening
to the morning to the summer

or the river to the sewer

to the man that doesn't know me
and that seems to be inside me
"good morning" said the starving

the owners of our mornings

to the nonsense we all hide in
the useless to the frightened
"you're just living" they reminded

it's nothing, good morning my darlings

[Anonymous No.18342434]

>>18330080
Under the wide and starry sky,
Dig the grave and let me lie.
Glad did I live and gladly die,
And I laid me down with a will.
This be the verse you grave for me:
Here he lies where he longed to be;
Home is the sailor, home from sea,
And the hunter home from the hill

[Anonymous No.18342445]

Under the wide and starry sky,
Dig the grave and let me lie.
Glad did I live and gladly die,
And I laid me down with a will.
This be the verse you grave for me:
Here he lies where he longed to be;
Home is the sailor, home from sea,
And the hunter home from the hill

[Anonymous No.18343130]

The lion leaps at dead of night,
Dispersing a whole herd in flight.
A single cow, the unlucky one,
Will never know tomorrow's sun.

[Anonymous No.18343152]

>>18330080
O, LORD!
Do not cast me upon that rocky shore any longer
Let me tail the edges of the shoals
And the neon reefs
Soaked in sunshine
Thoughtless

[Anonymous No.18343170]

>>18339816
Really like this one but the line about coupons threw me a bit as it doesn't fit with the imagery of a restaurant with a waiter

Mine: "Statistically Alone"

I read a statistic the other day.
Up to a third of 25 year olds
are virgins, and may die alone.
It was a crisis, they said,
something must be done!
Me? I was just happy
to belong with those numbers
on a screen.

[Anonymous No.18343236]

"Look at the sky, there it is!"
"The fading of the false sun, herald of the coming!"
"Ages have passed, seals are broken now"
"The harbinger of eternal heaven has been saved from his cellar!"
"When he comes, 'they' will learn!"
"Fears they never knew, truths they never witnessed"
"Those who spread their message will rule everything"
"Hopes will collapse, the souls of believers will be enlightened."
"When he comes, 'they' will learn!"
"They do not know, the ignorant ones think, humanity will rule forever"
"It is true that humanity is ruling now"
"But when he comes, he will surely get what his back!"
"The false sun is shining, it spreads hope on the fraudsters"
"When the true sun brings the darkness that saves believers,"
"They will have no place to run, 'they' will learn!"
"And the darkness of the endless light will begin."
"From the bottom of the earth, from the core of shooting stars"
"From the sky, from the depths of the sea"
"His apostles are waiting, he knows his future"
"They're still there, they'll come back."
"When he comes, he will teach man the price of trusting."

Some stuff i wrote back in the day.

[Anonymous No.18343580]

I am like Naruto
From the hidden leaf village
In the hidden leaf village
Wanting to become hokage
and never giving up

>>18330826
Cringe

[Anonymous No.18343715]

I don’t know when Tulip flew through my bedroom window, but about a week ago I heard the sound of buzzing and looked down to find him sitting on my arm. When I jumped, he fell to the ground like he was dead. After a little while I realized he must have been hungry, since he was probably stuck in my bedroom the last day or so. That was the last time I could remember opening my window. A day is a long time to go without eating for a human, and I don’t know what a whole day is like to a wasp. I figure the reason he was in my room in the first place was because he was looking for something to eat, and that, when he landed on my arm, he was just trying to get my attention, with his last bit of strength, to tell me to open the window up again.

I went to the kitchen and took a jar of honey out of the cupboard, and with a teaspoon, scooped a little bit of it into a bottle-cap, which I then mixed with water and placed on the ground in front of Tulip. His antennas started moving, like he could smell it, and he sluggishly crawled over to the honey, peering over the lip and dipping his yellow front leg in it. His tail moved like an accordion while he ate, which took about a minute, and for that time I sat on the edge of my bed and watched. It was kind of interesting, the way that he kept dipping his legs into the honey and moving his antennas, but I was worried he would fly over and sting me, which, I’ve heard, is more painful than getting burned with a cigarette.

When he was finished, his wings started buzzing, liftIing him off the ground pretty quick, and he didn’t fly in my direction but instead towards my lamp, probably because of its warmth. Bouncing himself off the lightbulb a few times, he finally landed on the rim of the lamp-shade. He crawled around it, doing a few laps with his wings buzzing, like the honey had given him so much energy that he needed to burn some of it off, and when he was finally done he flew away but I didn’t see where.

>>18343170
Why would that make you happy :(

>>18330826
best one

[Anonymous No.18343757]

>>18330088
I feel like this's talking about an empty man who can't have his emptiness seen. Very cool
>>18330101
They say it can't be like it do but it can't not
>>18330826
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_CL6n0FJZpk
>>18331335
hell yeah
>>18331431
rotten commandments
>>18331614
Very cool, thanks Kanye

the hobbits in the terrible forest
---
You're too ugly to be fake
Be prolific
Show me every way
And stand back up
Gettin old
Hell yeah

Good man
You're too sad to stop talking
Think of it a puzzle woken up to
It makes something beautiful
Are you okay?
Checkmate, ya f***** *l*t
High and tight, good man!

Your shit's dried up
Sold out your penny loafers
Walk on, naked, barefoot
Sleep under a tree then climb up it
How far from here?

[Anonymous No.18343767]

>>18330088
I feel like this's talking about an empty man who can't have his emptiness seen. Very cool
>>18330101
They say it can't be like it do but it can't not
>>18330826
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_CL6n0FJZpk [Embed]
>>18331335
hell yeah
>>18331431
rotten commandments
>>18331614
Very cool, thanks Kanye

the hobbits in the terrible forest
---
You're too ugly to be fake
Be prolific
Show me every way
And stand back up
Gettin old
Hell yeah

Good man
You're too sad to stop talking
Think of it a puzzle woken up to
It makes something beautiful
Are you okay?
Checkmate, ya f***** *l*t

High and tight, good man!
Your shit's dried up
Sold out your penny loafers
Walk on, naked, barefoot
Sleep under a tree then climb up it
How far from here?

[Anonymous No.18343967]

>>18340553
Nope, you probably have some underlying insecurity related to poetry that you need to work on desu.

[Anonymous No.18344408]

>>18340553
read better poets, simple as

[Anonymous No.18345151]

What do you guys think about this? It's one of my favorite poems

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18345174]

An experiment with a new form of alliteration

Great Thunder roars, stones shatter; rent,
thorns scorched, dappled dim marks seared dark,
knuckles sable, erupting groans
sparks soar, rage extinguishes slow.

[Anonymous No.18345477]

>>18345174
>sparks soar, rage extinguishes slow.
slow as a pain when eaten bad
and gut's not willing to forget
the treachery one has committed
your closest friend, you have him beaten

the same could be said of the mind
when with the crowd dirt gets in line
all shit they fucks spew in mode sleep
weights on the consciousness
& making it cheap

that's right, we're born in blood, in cries
the dirt is ever present sky
but with some skill a trained eye
can see the shine right in the slime

in slime but not of slime yessir
meme on through fade like blinding blur.

[Anonymous No.18345492]

>>18345174
You like Hopkins I assume?

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18345560]

>>18345492
Oh yeah totally, I wasn’t consciously trying to ape him though. Let me specify what I’m trying, very rarely I’ve seen in some poems and songs a kind of weird alliteration (which I cannot find the name for) in which you repeat the ending letter/sound of one word and follow it with the next word beginning with that same sound or word, like uhh “breath head dead” or like the four lines I posted.

If I did end up sounding like Hopkins, it wasn’t intentional though perhaps this form lends itself to that kind of sound? Or maybe I just subconsciously copied his manner.

Do you like Hopkins? Here’s one of his I like quite a bit.

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell's
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves — goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying Whát I dó is me: for that I came.

I say móre: the just man justices;
Keeps grace: thát keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God's eye what in God's eye he is —
Chríst — for Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men's faces

[Anonymous No.18345583]

>>18345560
I love Hopkins, I hope my post didn't come across as too arsey.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18345661]

>>18345583
No it’s cool! I took the comparison as a compliment. Post a favorite of yours if you do not mind.

[Anonymous No.18345726]

>>18345661
How do u feel about dylan thomas?

[Anonymous No.18345753]

>>18345661
Pied Beauty

Glory be to God for dappled things –
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced – fold, fallow, and plough;
And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise him.

[Anonymous No.18345759]

First Night of Autumn Winds

Sent to a post in the far mountains of Patagonia, I was studying my books by lamplight.
Cold winds come from the north, the winds that bring rain come from the east, but I heard the rumors of a sound from the southwest.
I listened in trepidation. I said to myself “how strange.”
First, a soft breeze, a light rain, then suddenly the sound of rushing, of huge
stones colliding, of waves crashing.
The sound of water gushing, an alarm spreading through the night, wind
and rain pushing toward some finality.
Drumbeats, bells ringing, iron clanging against gold, everything in harm’s
way.
And a low sound of soldiers hurrying to the siege: the hooves of the horses
muffled, no orders shouted, just a steady tramping forward. I told the boy: “What is that sound? Go out and see.”
The boy said:
“The stars and moon are clear and bright. The Milky Way lies across the
sky. On all four sides no sound of people. The only sound is in the trees.”
I said: “How sad.
It is the sound of autumn. Why does autumn ever come?
Autumn is pale and cruel. Smoke rises, clouds gather.
Even when skies are bright, autumn is bitter, piercing flesh and piercing
bone.
Everything is alone: the world of mountains and rivers becomes empty and
still.

The sound of autumn is cold. It is the sound of grief, the sound of sudden wailing.
“Once there were the delicate patterns of thick grass. Once there was green shade lying under the trees.
“Autumn touches the grass and its color fades. Autumn touches the trees and the leaves fall.
It cannot help but destroy. Its nature is corrosive.
Its occupation is executioner. Its badge is darkness.
Its color may be gold, but its sword is steel.
It is the pitiless justice of heaven and earth: to kill with cold.
“The sound of autumn is a flute sound, a sad song, the sound of things being hurt, the sound of things past their prime that will soon be put to death.
“Trees and grass don’t care. The moment arrives, the wind changes, and they die.
But a man thinks, his heart aches, the endless things wear him down. He is adrift and yet—the sperm still rises.
He craves that which is unreachable.
He imagines spreading his wisdom among the impractical.
“His bright face has turned to dead wood, his black hair white as stars.
We are not made of metal and stone, why should we dream of outlasting the
trees and grass?
Why should we hate the sound of autumn?”
The boy did not answer. He had fallen asleep.
Inside the four walls I could hear the chrrr . . . chrrr . . . of insects gnawing.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18345779]

>>18345726
I’ve read a little bit of him, he’s hit or miss for me, another dude who’s similar to these guys which I like but I never hear mentioned is Vernon Watkins, I’ll post a couple of his stuff.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18345786]

>>18345779

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18345792]

>>18345786
Tell me what you think of them, yeah?

[Anonymous No.18345813]

>>18345661
Dylan thomas's seed at zero:

The seed-at-zero shall not storm
That town of ghosts, the trodden womb,
With her rampart to his tapping,
No god-in-hero tumble down
Like a tower on the town
Dumbly and divinely stumbling
Over the manwaging line.

The seed-at-zero shall not storm
That town of ghosts, the manwaged tomb
With her rampart to his tapping,
No god-in-hero tumble down
Like a tower on the town
Dumbly and divinely leaping
Over the warbearing line.

Through the rampart of the sky
Shall the star-flanked seed be riddled,
Manna for the rumbling ground,
Quickening for the riddled sea;
Settled on a virgin stronghold
He shall grapple with the guard
And the keeper of the key.

May a humble village labour
And a continent deny?
A hemisphere may scold him
And a green inch be his bearer;
Let the hero seed find harbour,
Seaports by a drunken shore
Have their thirsty sailors hide him.

May be a humble planet labour
And a continent deny?
A village green may scold him
And a high sphere be his bearer;
Let the hero seed find harbour,
Seaports by a thirsty shore
Have their drunken sailors hide him.

Man-in-seed, in seed-at-zero,
From the foreign fields of space,
Shall not thunder on the town
With a star-flanked garrison,
Nor the cannons of his kingdom
Shall the hero-in-tomorrow
Range on the sky-scraping place.

Man-in-seed, in seed-at-zero,
From the star-flanked fields of space,
Thunders on the foreign town
With a sand-bagged garrison,
Nor the cannons of his kingdom
Shall the hero-in-to-morrow
Range from the grave-groping place.

.
This poem's substitution technique is great, fern hill is one of my fav poems of all time because of how well it flows, and thomas's shaped verse in vision and prayer is great. Also ceremony after a fire raid.

[Anonymous No.18345822]

Sunshine spotlighting the spread of summer grass,
Baboon-boy and other bestial concatenations burst forward
Stump and rump the surroundings,
Citizens despondent
Destruction everlasting

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18345835]

>>18345813
Here’s one of Thomas that I liked. I’ve read (before) and liked the poems you mentioned.

O
Out of a bed of love
When that immortal hospital made one more moove to soothe
The curless counted body,
And ruin and his causes
Over the barbed and shooting sea assumed an army
And swept into our wounds and houses,
I climb to greet the war in which I have no heart but only
That one dark I owe my light,
Call for confessor and wiser mirror but there is none
To glow after the god stoning night
And I am struck as lonely as a holy marker by the sun

No
Praise that the spring time is all
Gabriel and radiant shrubbery as the morning grows joyful
Out of the woebegone pyre
And the multitude's sultry tear turns cool on the weeping wall,
My arising prodgidal
Sun the father his quiver full of the infants of pure fire,
But blessed be hail and upheaval
That uncalm still it is sure alone to stand and sing
Alone in the husk of man's home
And the mother and toppling house of the holy spring,
If only for a last time.

[Anonymous No.18345839]

>>18345779
I really like this
>>18345786
Great stuff
>>18345792
I really liked this too. I dont get them really (i'm on the bus right now) but i'll check this poet out more soon.

[Anonymous No.18345850]

>>18345835
Yeah, this one is pretty great as well. Generally i prefer his more fluid, syllabic styles to his iambic stuff.
Thanks for the vernon watkins rec.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18345889]

>>18345839
Nice! I don’t know why neither of these two are discussed on here.

>>18345850
He’s definitely one of the better poets of his time. See ya!

[Anonymous No.18345992]

>>18345813
Sneed

[Anonymous No.18346066]

>>18345992
Some dipshit anon did the parody already in the thread, see >>18334233

[Anonymous No.18346292]

>>18345889
Frater, how do you feel about charles bukowski?

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18346547]

>>18346292
Not a fan, he primarily appeals to people through his personality and aphorisms, both of which are very down to earth and opposed to sickly sweet beauty, I like poetry and prose which tries to be ethereal, lapidary, impressive and highly religious.

This isn’t to say I do not understand his appeal, you can find the appeal in him (much stronger I think) in Celine for that same tired, dirty, experienced feeling. You’re gonna be reading him because you don’t have an old dirty guy to share his life with you and tell you stories.

While I understand the appeal, it simply does nothing for me emotionally, aesthetically nor intellectually.

[Anonymous No.18346981]

>>18343767
>rotten commandments
What does this mean?

[Anonymous No.18347111]

>>18345174
Pretty cool. Keep at it

[Anonymous No.18347271]

>>18346981
I read your thing and it looked like the evil version of the biblical creation story.

the live bullet between my teeth
---
you're acid
i checked my wallet and you're an overdrawn check
you're my negative balance
but you feel like straight money

you look like the fact that no one gets my sense of humor
you're a gravestone in a place we go every five years
then ten
and maybe once again, ever

you're counting down
you're God on the microphone
you're sex
you look like water in a mixed drink

you're two days later
you're standing up. you're being strong
you're punching out the window to see the street
you're on fire and it's cold out

[Anonymous No.18347696]

>>18347271
Is that a good thing or a bad thing?

[Anonymous No.18347703]

>>18347696
It's neutral. I liked it

[Anonymous No.18347724]

>>18347703
Thanks

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18347764]

The First Syndesian sonnet

Great Thunder roars, stones shatter; rent,
thorns scorched, dappled dim marks seared dark,
knuckles sable, erupting groans,
sparks soar, rage extinguishes slow.
will-o'-wisps settle eerily,
yon nestles sheens shined Dew whitened
diamond-dusted, drunken neither
Rum much, chance ephemeral;Light.
trembling grounds soften: nether
rupture, essence epiphany,
yet the eminence evades still;
like ethereal laterns shining;
gustful lustral longing given
not through opal-lit transcience.

[Anonymous No.18347851]

>>18347764
I was the dude chatting about dylan thomas earlier.
The idea is a good one and your approach is pretty decent for an early attempt, but imo you need to chill with the alliteration - it becomes obstructive rather than ecstatic. Give yourself one or two per line and see if it reads a bit cleaner.
Lines like "sparks soar, rage extinguishes slow" are too heavy handed with the sibilance, and i think the messaging suffers a tiny bit from the new prosody but if you refine the techniques a bit more i can see this becoming an absolute joy to read. Tons of potential in your approach to this style though, i'd actually love for you to post a couple more.

Also, it's nice to see you embrace some hopkins-ish techniques, since you two seem to be kindred artistic souls.

[Anonymous No.18347872]

>>18347764
Build me an army worthy of Mordor

[Anonymous No.18347903]

>>18345151
I like it. Have you read any George Herbert?

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18347910]

>>18347851
Thanks! I was weighing if alliteration mixed with this new style would be too much, I also worried about the extinguished line. And I do realize the narrative is obscure but I figure this is remedied by intentionally hopping around/making it kaleidoscope-like.

I’m definitely gonna keep experimenting, next one will try to implement regular rhyming and see if it’s doable while still being enjoyable. I appreciated the comment.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18347917]

One Of the first poems I was satisfied enough with to actually post anywhere.

Colors of amber and lovely green,
The soaring of many birds i have seen,
Dark forests where dwell the elven kin,
Golden cities which no man has been,
Remember a past that never was;
What the blessed of many years does,
The wings of the wind rushing forward,
What The servants of flame go toward,
beautiful world I cannot fathom:
It is beyond the kin of Adam.

[Anonymous No.18347965]

>>18347910
>I was weighing if alliteration mixed with this new style would be too much
It isn't, but that attempt was. Fern hill is a great example of a poem in syllabic verse that uses alliteration to great effect, but hopkins has many more alliterations and is equally good.
>>18347917
Lol, i only post the stuff i'm not satisfied with! I may shoot one back atcha.

[Anonymous No.18347993]

>>18345813
Which parts do you like that show good substitution?

[Anonymous No.18348010]

>>18347993
It's not metric substitutions, but i like manwaging - warbearing, skyscraping - gravegroping, planet - village labour, virgin - riddled stronghold, and keeper/loser of the key.

[Anonymous No.18348017]

>>18348010
Substitutions isn't the word, i meant swaps or some shit like that, idk

[Anonymous No.18348061]

>>18348010
>>18348017
Oh, gotcha.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18348071]

>>18347965
All in all I’m not satisfied yet with any of my poetry, I see getting critique as one of the only ways to genuinely improve (other than writing, thinking and studying.)

Post one of yours!

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18348096]

>>18348017
Kennings?

https://www.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kenning

[Anonymous No.18348102]

"Let rules be fixed that may our rage contain,
And punish faults with a proportion'd pain;
But do not flay him who deserves alone
A whipping for the fault that he has done."

— Horace

[Anonymous No.18348144]

>>18348096
I don't think it'd be kennings. It's an actual swapping of words and ideas in different places every 2 stanzas to give the poem a sort of opposite, paradoxical or maybe kind of synthesis of each pair of stanzas.

[Anonymous No.18348183]

>>18348071
Honestly, i would but it feels strange to put one into a forum like this - even if i think your advice would be phenomenal to one trying to write in sprung rhythm.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18348222]

>>18348183
Completely fair and understandable, you might even have the intent to publish which posting here may not be the best idea, I don’t worry about such things because I do not plan to ever publish.

Good luck anyways! No better thing to do but study the greats.

[Anonymous No.18348231]

>>18348222
Yeah, i do. But i can share some of my most unpublishable and lewd limericks i sent to someone in a letter.

[Anonymous No.18348242]

>>18348231
Dogshit, but fun dogshit

[Anonymous No.18348372]

i b eatin
---
abe
test me
ask me about it
the human mind burns
wa wa wa wanna wanna wanna
i be eatin and it's not even nine
all eyes on me
i have a passing understanding
i remember the breakdown
you can read write and talk about it can you be it
i know you got me when you got it
here's nothing
i woke up and she said show me your ID
i said no and she did what she was already doing
i brought the id and you got the ego and together we make a shit sandwich
and what happ"I used to work at a call center. People got mad. It was for a power company and I was there during Hurricane Katrina. Nevermind the guy who said he was going to cut my head off. Or the weirdo. Let's talk about that one angry guy. Boy, he was mad.
I don't even remember what happened but he kept saying, 'This is kafkaesque, this is kafkaesque.' I thought he was a poser for using that word but I hope he got what he wanted. That was a long time ago.
How about the guy who tried to order a pizza from me? He was like, 'My power doesn't work. Are you gonna send me a pizza?' I was like sorry sir. Lol
The people in that place were worse and better than our customers. One night I went downtown with some of them and they saw something. The next day, I looked too but it was different then. It was the beginning of something new.
Thank God I don't have a fuckin j"ens next?
Light purple clouds breaking over a green horizon
Lush wooded areas with animals
A man stands under the full moon
But anytime you look up you can see it
You can find it in the bricks you live under
You can shout it out, screaming for mutes
You can find it right here, let me show you
i stay thrilled [WOOF]

[Anonymous No.18348402]

>>18348372
Nigga wat?

[Anonymous No.18348466]

>>18348402
it b what it do

[Freight Train Assemblin' No.18348472]

>>18348466
Sheeeeeeiiiiiiiiiiit nigguh wussup

[Anonymous No.18348512]

>>18348472
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=41qC3w3UUkU

[Anonymous No.18348598]

Dad
---
put me on the fbi list
this is how to root a phone
make spaghetti sauce
smile for the camera
drown out the reverb

highlight the whiteboard
show me your plan
sit down at the bar table
think about the best time of your day
i got mine

this is how to sell a book
how you made me spill
i fought you in everyone i saw
especially women
i'm lit up and you stay dark

nothing, nothing, nothing
in the Bible it says,
"Get thee behind me Satan."
i'll find beautiful women
thighs and recompense

[Anonymous No.18348619]

>>18330080
This thread has the warmth
of the smooth wooden floor of a brick oven bakery.

Just as
cripsed, aromatic loaves
are ready to descend
from fiery seats
and sit snug
in baskets

[Anonymous No.18348630]

>>18347903
I have not. Where should I start?

[Anonymous No.18348642]

>>18348619
smells like bread in here. very nice

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18348675]

>>18348242
They’re fun! Me as the guy conjuring ghosts of dead poets. I do think that’s probably the best of the three.

[Anonymous No.18348680]

>>18348675
Lmao nice i thought i scared you away. Lots of fun writing the most outlandish shit i could

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18348685]

Was asked to write another rap by someone, so I wrote yet another.

irredeemable, i reject the brazen vessel,
internal eye, embrace my mental space,
i rebuke the earthly praised,
the prose prisons dwelled in by the millions,
rejecting seraphic verse brilliance
to be fucked and fugue’d in morose visions of gross cells of appearance,
my rite and spells conjure with deranged tongues of strange traditions,
the Paracelsian rose hidden in perdition;
which grows among the frozen monsters of libido;
divine delirium of a magician’s ego

though Stygian ghosts unwritten and without superstition
(like dela, pico) arose from my mouth,
like the vermilion dream children hidden invisible in the south,
which come forth, when Stella’ man’s sun reaches the north,
these psychospiritual secrets get no support,
idiots don’t like a stylish continental speech,
you can’t teach them the elemental nor ornamental,
they want what preaches excrement, sex and zanies, opiate purulent like sanies,
but I'm seduced by my own fancy,
i revel in Dunsany’s devilish zenithal majesty,
a dandy’s childlike fantasies, my own selfish vanities
a-rebours and an arbatel mixed with Ecclesiastes.

[Anonymous No.18348687]

>>18348372
I greatly admire the lapse into and back out of prose. The story roped me in and was well chosen.
When I read it out loud I sense that it pleases the ear yet is unconventional. very fine art, thank you.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18348691]

>>18348680
Nah, not at all, I right pretty silly stuff myself, see the last post of mine. You ever read Lewis Carroll’s phantasmagoria? It’s pretty good for nonsense verse.

[Anonymous No.18348698]

>>18348691
I fucking love nonsense lit, wish i read more of it. I'll check it out.

[Anonymous No.18348707]

Here I sit
Broken hearted.
I meant to shit
But only farted

[Anonymous No.18348807]

>>18348687
God bless
>>18348707
Very sad

[Anonymous No.18348860]

post emo revival
---
You spent me on a little and I brought something great. You tied me outside on a cornstalk and ate my pet for dinner, you even asked first. I saw fear in your eyes.

You look like my broken life and how no one talks to me anymore. You're the last broken heart I fucked. You're guns akimbo and I'm the trigger.

You're dead walking tryna talk about some old shit. I jerk off for no good reason. I took a shit on a picture of your face. I took all your recipes and made them wrong on purpose.

Still you sit on my shoulder. You're the puke in a late night bender. You're too smart to taunt me, you offer advice. Look at me. You're the trigger on my finger and I'm aiming for better.

[Anonymous No.18348888]

>>18348860
I concluded today that i am emo

[Anonymous No.18348895]

>>18348888
hell yea

[Anonymous No.18348906]

>>18348888
quads of emo

[Anonymous No.18349423]

>>18348906
>>18348895
What are some essential emo books I should read

[Anonymous No.18349498]

For the sake of argument let’s say I felt I had it in me to write poetry but didn’t know the technical aspects of it (technique is expression). What would I do and where should I look to learn technique as an amateur to not look like a total idiot?

[Anonymous No.18349545]

>>18348630
I like "Time" and "Redemption" by Herbert. Easter Wings is pretty good too, but I haven't delved into his other works.
>>18349498
Paul Fussell's Poetic Meter and Poetic Form taught me more than anything and things I've never seen anywhere else. Highly, criminally underrated.
https://www.scribd.com/document/332511050/Fussell-Poetic-Meter-pdf

[Anonymous No.18349556]

>>18349498
>>18349545
To elaborate. Fussell's book is technical and teaches, in my opinion, the basics that any serious poet should at least know.

[Anonymous No.18349579]

It's not rape if you survive.

[Anonymous No.18349734]

>>18349545
>>18349556
Thank you

[Anonymous No.18349790]

>>18349734
You're welcome

[Anonymous No.18349991]

Maybe I didn't love you
Quite as often as I could have
And maybe I didn't treat you
Quite as good as I should have
If I made you feel second best
Girl I'm sorry I was blind
You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind
And maybe I didn't hold you
All those lonely, lonely times
I guess I never told you
I am so happy that you're mine
Little things I should have said and done
I just never took the time
You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind

[Anonymous No.18351468]

>>18349991
I really like it. Simple refrain, and not too long, nor trying to be so profound. It's nice. I could imagine this as a song because the wording is so simple and everyday.

[Anonymous No.18351565]

[Anonymous No.18351673]

[Anonymous No.18351982]

>>18349498
Your thoughts almost mirror mine.
I think another relevant question that can be raised is how do I escape the internal pressure to conform to conventions? I myself fear that my lack of technique screams amateur at best and idiot at worst; and a self-conscious reasoning assumes the latter.

The mind stifles creativity this way for so many.

And for me this is not contained strictly to creative expression, but has executive influence in the expression of my whole being.

[Bustelo No.18352064]

a Note on Horticulture by Bustelo

What does change feel like?
a weight in your pocket?
a cold burst of air?
a blunt and a process?
the greying of hair?


Is change always changing?

Can change be changed?

Why is change so strange?


Sometimes change changes other changes and makes change rearrange.
Wherever change may be just know change is for better things.
change can bring us together;
change can tear us apart;
but whenever there is change growing can start.

[Bustelo No.18352170]

Life Under The Jacaranda Tree by Bustelo

There's a canal outside my neighborhood with a small patch of land set aside almost intelligently for opportunity to be a living metaphor for "Tropical oasis". Ducks frequent it; as with the lonely poets and stoners. Once a year this subsequent land is a field of flowers and the subsequence of it's existence is not so subsequent anymore.

On the isthmus of the canal two trees stand in such consequential contradiction, a Blue Jacaranda and a Royal Poinciana. Being amongst the tropical bloom gives such vibrancy for life to postulate. The intensity of the scene lies in its simplicity to remain resilient and overlooked at the same time; as such is the contradiction of life we are faced with.

[Bustelo No.18352236]

F(x)_(x) by Bustelo


"how do you feel?"

I feel like the intersection of two planes;
I'm stranding on one;
the other a wall I'm constantly backed up against.

"Like as a whole?"

I put myself in a mathematical space.
I see the edge,
but the trip there is limitless.
And it's so clear that there's an end,
and I can see it;
but I never get there.

"What's at the end???"

I'm just waiting until infinity dictates it's over for me.
But as in control as it seems and as sure as the nothingness is it's not my choice when I get to see it.

And back behind me,
there's the intersection;
the safe space I can always rely on.
I go here because it's tangible,
unlike the vast nothing ahead.

"What's at your intersection?"

Uh well I guess I don't know yet?

[Anonymous No.18352279]

>>18351982
Learn the basics before you try without them. I recommended Paul Fussell's Poetic Meter and Poetic Form to that anon and I say the same to you. Instead of feeling constrained by conventions, you should try to put things together simply at first, or focus on a story that hasn't been told in the way you want to tell it. Usually you just write as it comes to mind, but after a while, and with learning, you can plot out an idea you have as a more effective entity than when you just write as it comes. But the background knowledge is critical. Learn to scan, learn meter, learn the logical connections of rhyme and the emotional associations with sounds, learn and use a structure first. The book I recommend goes over all of those very technically. It's not hard to understand, and illuminates so much in poetry I never saw before.

[Anonymous No.18352286]

>>18352064
Fun and interesting

[Bustelo No.18352297]

Hungry Howie by Bustelo

Fears evaporated by this sin heater;
all alone, reality in crisis precipitated!

Mind on a mission, in thoughtful condition,
a ready position for none of my business.
I'm primed for precision, beaming for bitches,
in a world without witness for lonely existence,
even though it existes.

I've been down, down
Downtown;
in the front row of frown town.

Pissed cuz' I'm outta food, lonely loser attitude,
crawling like a roach through this twenty year sabbatical.
Living like a radical, by that I mean a fractional,
of the man I think I knew.
A big depressing graphical of wildly incompatible.
Still so laughable, I stunt so fashionable,
sexuality so passable, I'm so fine casual.
Slightly with an attitude, irresistibly theatrical.
Searching for a fucking move,
tired of this lonely loom.
Stuck couch locked for days eating dirt up in my room,
an empty bar that's closing soon.
Still need to get some food,
so can I get a number two?

[Bustelo No.18352310]

>>18352286
thank you anon I've never posted my work anywhere and thought this would be a good start for brining my words to others

[Anonymous No.18352331]

>>18352064
this gave me good feels

[Anonymous No.18352622]

>>18330080

[Anonymous No.18352679]

Sorry not thread related
I am an ESL so can you bros tell me what is the meaning of this poem?


“To Eden with me you will not leave
To live in a cottage of crazy, crooked eaves.
In your own happy home you take care these nights;
When you let your little cat in, please turn on the lights!
Something scurries behind and finds a cozy place to stare,
Something sent to you from paradise, with serpents to spare:
Tongues flowering; they leap out laughing, lapping. Dissapear”

― Thomas Ligotti

[Anonymous No.18352706]

>>18352622
No Blur 2 is not by
Maroon 5
Yes, they both have ###
Yes, that is true
Yet,
When, in 1998,
Blur 2 was skyrocketed to fame
by FIFA98
Maroon 5 almost
over an album called Soap Disco
broke up
the album sold ~5000 copies
FIFA98 sold
well, I don’t know
but def more than 5000 lol
also: remember Klinsmann’s goal
in the Fifa World Cup 1998,
not the video game, but the event
Jurgen Klinsman
“that’s the touch of a master”
2-0, 18th minute vs USA
now you can run it in your browser
FIFA98, the video game, that is
“Can you still feel it?”
“Gonna make you feel it”

[Anonymous No.18352756]

The most photographed barn is America
is the most referenced bit of lit
out there
b/c you can show off
talk abt simulacrum
as false copies
losing connection
to the Real
the bit of writing? you mean
or are we talking abt the
barn?
you name it chief,
it’s your night
or you can talk abt
the simulacrum, but then
how it distorts
it distorts the capital R
Real
it distorts the R
in order to Reveal
the Ideal,
or some stuff like that
drop it, like it’s lukewarm
in your afternoon meeting
and face the diffident stares
reproduce the barn
the bit of text
as most referenced
or most photographed
or both,
or TikTok the fuckers
who cares,
I, for one, don’t

[Anonymous No.18352781]

>>18351468
It is a song

[Anonymous No.18353082]

>>18352706
refreshing, 8/10

[Anonymous No.18353336]

>>18352310
I suppose it is. I've checked out poetry specific sites, but none of them feel as organic as this site is, nor can you criticize harshly on those others. But I think we all holdout a little hope of someday wanting credit, so we keep the ones were most proud of.

[Anonymous No.18353426]

>>18330080
r8 my poetry, im a beginner at doing this

Shades darker than the silky stones
Burnished by the rays abroad
Her curls drape,
Whilst robes take shape,
Enchanting feminine landscape

Yet a thought intercepts
Idyllic presuppositions
Could it be true,
That I have met you,
Across the dusky dew?

Now the Sun has arrived
Alea Jacta Est
Let it wash the land,
Like the Sinai sand,
Binding our souls firsthand

[Anonymous No.18353596]

>>18353426
lol so earnest, too good

[Anonymous No.18353833]

Here in the garden, I spend everyday, tending to my tulips and daisies all May.

My favorite flower was recently crushed, trampled by an ugly man whose feet turned it into mush.

I've already discarded it's remains, even though I loved it it was worthless anyway.

Now I'm left with a choice, one that's almost painful to make, what kind of flower should I plant in its place?

Two choices I've boiled down to, and yet the decision I can't hold true.

Do I plant the flower with the deep roots? It's pretty and sweet, but those roots will consume everything else as a treat.

Or do I go with the rose that will suddenly bloom. It's beauty would be new to me but I'm afraid it'll wither too soon.

At any rate, I have to pick soon. If I don't, I won't plant anything come June!

[Anonymous No.18353900]

>>18330080
Perhaps anons here can me with a little problem I am having with Pope. Whenever I read him I am impressed by the fineness of his verses and the lucidity through which he expresses his sentiments, but I am having a hard time trying to parse out any earnest feeling, passion and/or emotion from the man. The words are expunged of any tenderness and warmth. Its not like he's cynical but formless when it comes to feeling. Its like looking at a gallery of well formed ideas. Where am I going wrong here?
I feel like I am missing something.

[Anonymous No.18354085]

>>18353900
I don't care about feeling in poetry, so why do you?

[Anonymous No.18354355]

Chillin at the brooklyn mall
With me, my niggaz and I
Reminiscin about the youthful years
A time before innocence died

Days of glory long foregone
And though we may weep and sigh
The strive brought colour to this lfe
For me, my niggaz and I

Encounters that lasted throughout the night
A prayer that was set aside
What more can it offer, before the ascent
Of me, my niggaz and I

The viper encircled and brought back to life
A triumph over the lie
Nevermore chained to his brother
Eternalised, my niggaz and I

[Anonymous No.18354406]

>>18330080
pish pash mush wash
ugh squeeze ugh flop
squeeze squeeze uhhhh god
i come shit i can't stop

shit is great
shit's succulent
i ejaculate
shit every instant

uhhhhh poo poo cummies
orgasssssssm ugh

>>18337317
this sucks

[Anonymous No.18354440]

Scatter like the spores of wild fungi

Take hold within my sinuses as I inhale your mist

Beautiful delicate seed concocted out of lust and malice

A purple mist, caressing my body like the early morning dew

Do not take root yet I beg you, let me inhale your fragrance a tad longer

Let me inhale all parts of you

Let me smell the colours of your consciousness until I am no more

Symbiosis

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18354968]

The Second Syndesian Sonnet.

Winds softly Yawning, Gust tears summit
Talus, slammed down near russet topsoil,
Lungs slyphine earth heaved, dropping plummet!
tumbling gravel leaps, set turmoil!
lunging gaps, springing galant through hot
terrain, nomes slope-enclosed dash hastful,
lamently Yelp; pebbles sadly caught,
throb bob boulders smashing; grift thudful
Lapis slabs; shattered dust twinkles shine,
every yowl lauds sabaoth’s stones;
sang, singing grimly, yon nature’s shrine
earthen, not tired! damn not tomb bones!
splendor rocks some early, yet the eye
external learns secrets, seen nigh.

[Anonymous No.18355170]

>>18330080
'Le Prix'
Our final charge in a future earned
The now resplendent crocus blooms
The weak-willed many soon overturned
Our final charge in a future earned
Peaceful lives by malice upturned
House of lies their own hand dooms
Our final charge in a future earned
The now resplendant crocus blooms

Submitted this to the Antelope Hill Publishing writing competition, never tried poetry before this but it was pretty fun. Thoughts?
Love reading everybody's poems :)

[Anonymous No.18355480]

>>18354968
This is pretty great to read. What is the ultimate message or story of it?

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18355526]

>>18355480
It’s describing a singular event through the vision of nature and natural spirits in themselves without the vision of man.

>Winds softly Yawning, Gust tears summit
>Talus, slammed down near russet topsoil,

Winds cause rocks to slide down a mount, this is the primary story and image which I’m repeating in different images and elaborating on in every line basically.

>Lungs slyphine earth heaved, dropping plummet!

The air is personified as elemental slyphs, gusts of wind being their breath, heave is a play on word since to heave is to breath heavily but also to throw something, thus their breaths “heave” the stones, in order to produce a feeling/sound of falling I repeat what’s occurring, so “dropping plummet” is the drop of it and its fall but is meant to embody the inertia and energy of it.

>tumbling gravel leaps, set turmoil!

The little grovel rocks are then personified as leaping living creatures also, in turmoil from the earlier action.

>lunging gaps, springing galant through hot

The stones are now personified as mighty and heroic, charging and hopping down the slope as they roll in the hot land.

>terrain, nomes slope-enclosed dash hastful,

Cont

[Anonymous No.18355527]

the sun doesnt sleep, no more
honeyed chumps, choked or
drowned; bathed in basin
bare, a travelling salesman -
little Lucy: danced, squared, and
Downed.


Flesh echo, so dear, forgotten
in blue, Turn Back Time and
MEMORISE; touch, taste
the night dancer - no haste -
in barren, cold, dark, Lucy
Dies.


The clouds dont exist, no more
blue stars, stock in store, or
return - chumps cheer, He wept -
congregation: dear child, the best
for poor moon, left lonely, and Lucy to
burn.

I did this a while back and it’s been my inspiration for a novella and a sequel.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18355534]

>>18355526
Nomes=gnomes, the earth elemental spirits, removed the G to disassociate it with the pop conception of the gnome which isn’t really accurate to all of the oldest conceptions of them as animated spirits of earth. Slope-enclosed is another play on words, gnomes are meant to live within the earth, in caves, rocks and so forth, enclosed can also be used to mean secluded in a religious sense, thus these are the sacred spirits dwelling in the rocks which are the ones really tumbling down,

>lamently Yelp; pebbles sadly caught,

The thud of smaller rocks stopping in the delightful fall, caught on other rocks and stuck in one position now.

>throb bob boulders smashing; grift thudful

Throb, as in, throbbing with the energy and force, Bob as in bobbing up and down, while the smaller stones have stopped, the larger stones continue on ward and with them dislodge larger stone slabs.

>Lapis slabs; shattered dust twinkles shine,

Lapis which can be a generic stone or the actual lapis lazuli, slabs of this are striker and fall along, bursting into a kind of powder from the fall, the dust of which the sunlight shines through and illuminates.


>every yowl lauds sabaoth’s stones;

That each loud nice and loud smashing force, each movement in nature praises/honors God,(sabaoth=tzabaoth, hosts, a title of God meaning he is lord of the armies/hosts of heaven and earth.) and in this line stones in particular are worshipful of god.

>sang, singing grimly, yon nature’s shrine
earthen,

Nature sings to God, though grim and terribly, for nature’s shrine is the mountains and stones of itself, it is its one temple/shrine where God is praised.

>not tired! damn not tomb bones!

And it is foolish to think the world is inanimate, non-living, even the bones in tombs, the rocks and all else has some form of natural activity.

>splendor rocks some early, yet the eye
>external learns secrets, seen nigh.

The majesty of God is apparent to some naturally, but others soon learn about it from examining his glory as it is shown in creation.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18355538]

>>18355480
Glad you liked it though! Thanks! I’m happy the sound tricks are working.

[Anonymous No.18355708]

>>18332839
Incredibly based

[Anonymous No.18355717]

>>18353833
charming! I think you would get the most immediate results editing for rhythm, using more active language and eliminating unnecessary prepositions.
>>18353900
Pope is an excellent poet, but I think at times he becomes a victim of form. I hate the feeling of a line forced to conform to its meter, and he's written a lot of lines. You're brushing up against exactly the same sentiment poets felt immediately after his influence.

[Anonymous No.18355745]

I put my ear down
to the parade
marching through my veins.

absurd elephants
in band uniforms,
carrying bronze cymbals,

their hat-feathers swishing
in staggered synchrony.
their feet stomping

in gentle rhythms,
as on crocheted blankets
or pie dough.

I never know
where they're marching, only
marching through me.

this is my childhood ritual
against my pillow. at the end of the day
I hear their parade.

[Anonymous No.18355960]

the sun doesnt sleep, no more
honeyed chumps, choked or
drowned; bathed in basin
bare, a travelling salesman -
little Lucy: danced, squared, and
Downed.


Flesh echo, so dear, forgotten
in blue, Turn Back Time and
MEMORISE; touch, taste
the night dancer - no haste -
in barren, cold, dark, Lucy
Dies.


The clouds dont exist, no more
blue stars, stock in store, or
return - chumps cheer, He wept -
congregation: dear child, the best
for poor moon, left lonely, and Lucy to
burn.

I did this a while back and it’s been my inspiration for a novella and a sequel.

[Anonymous No.18355997]

>>18355527
Ech

[Anonymous No.18356005]

I slide it between
Butterfly's butt sheens
It's a beautiful buttjob
From a woman who wears
A collar from which are tears
from last nights feat
'twas very neat

Upon a beautiful night
In heat

:3

[Anonymous No.18356331]

>>18356005
we need more like this, but more radical, and more abt everyday shit, like posting on 4ch while on the shitter etc., abt ignoring your twitching eye while doomscrolling etc

[Anonymous No.18356770]

>>18330080
the sun doesnt sleep, no more
honeyed chumps, choked or
drowned; bathed in basin
bare, a travelling salesman -
little Lucy: danced, squared, and
Downed.


Flesh echo, so dear, forgotten
in blue, Turn Back Time and
MEMORISE; touch, taste
the night dancer - no haste -
in barren, cold, dark, Lucy
Dies.


The clouds dont exist, no more
blue stars, stock in store, or
return - chumps cheer, He wept -
congregation: dear child, the best
for poor moon, left lonely, and Lucy to
burn.
.
.
will I make it?

[Anonymous No.18356780]

>>18356770
It's a bit jarring to have some capitonyms here and there, but no consistency. The hyphens need to be replaced with dashes of some sort. Also, I don't know whom or what the poem is addressing at all.

[Anonymous No.18356921]

>>18330080
Meat Date

Upon a winter's night, a meat date ensued,
A carcass of some animal, with love imbued,
Lovers took another's hand, cupid's mood,
And the meaty body was not his din-din food,
Nay, none hungry stomach in that dude,
Instead he would carry their love like a pood!
He only hoped that tonight the meat was no prude!

[Anonymous No.18356959]

>>18356770
I see what you’ve done, rhyming (even if it is odd rhymes) every aa bb but cc doesn’t work. Idk what it’s about lol? Pls explain

[Anonymous No.18357909]

poeyry is a hanshgrohe der feast
peotry geos beyond and byond
it goed it goes
beyond and the further it
squeeze and reeches
all life, all lofe, all live
incloiding my own
is ntohing btu leeches
this is not a poeytry
it is a speexhes
for and formost my
woman ia not at
all
a beeches
for freedom
alwyas inserts its words
in potic language
beyond and bhind
life is life is life

[Anonymous No.18358255]

>>18355745
You didn't rate - will give feedback though.
I can't justify the length of this poem, there is little progression at all for it to consist of several stanzas. I feel like it should be shorter. Omit needless words. The feeling you're trying to convey is there, defintely. However it gets lost in a mess of useless, awkward language.

[Anonymous No.18358265]

>>18356770
Good stuff. Keep working at your craft.

[Anonymous No.18358293]

A whisper sounds in the night around
"You are king, a knight, killer of zounds!"
Latent lineage revealed as stars descend
The purpose now clear, no more pretend
Tomorrow we ride towards a new dawn
Golden Horde of future, I am the Khan

Heavy eyes, sea of dream
Forget not, vision supreme
Brother sun follows sister moon
I am awake, no longer in tune
Smoldering embers, untested mettle
Droplets of my soul into still water settle

[Anonymous No.18358305]

>>18356770
I agree with another anon, I don't know what this is about besides a few images.

[Anonymous No.18358309]

>>18356921
More than three rhymes in a row are known to be jarring and nigh unuseable to the poet effectively, and that's what I think you have here.

[Anonymous No.18358317]

>>18356770

>the sun doesnt sleep
this is nice
>no more honeyed chumps
i think i get what you're saying here, nice enjambment, like idiots? or just people who talk too much getting killed because of their own words?
>choked or
good rhyming aa
>drowned; bathed in basin
>bare
not really sure if this is talking about being young or old but it works
>a travelling salesman
>little Lucy: danced, squared, and
>Downed
if the protagonist of this whole thing, or at the very least the subject of this is Lucy then she's an obvious victim to the above, is she being cleansed in some way?
>travelling salesman
this bit gets me... idk why, feels like this whole piece is discussing negativity so im immediately thinking that the salesman, if it is lucy, is in fact a very bad person? not sure about the dancing or squaring or downing unless in a fight?
>Flesh echo, so dear, forgotten
not a big fan of this but mainly because it feels super modernized compared to a more nostalgic former paragraph (if thats the reason, good job i guess); also dont really understand what youre getting at
>in blue, Turn Back Time and
>MEMORISE; touch, taste
you still have me lost beyond looking at memories. if im to take a guess then its something like looking on your phone or some shit but im not really sure
>the night dancer - no haste -
this linked with the previous line makes me actually think that lucy is a hooker
>in barren, cold, dark, Lucy
>Dies.
not sure if metaphorical or

>The clouds dont exist, no more
goes well with very first line
>blue stars, stock in store, or
idk what this is talking about? i literally cannot think of anything it could be about
>return - chumps cheer, He wept -
gossipers happy with this person dead? or what they gossiped as true?
>congregation: dear child, the best
>for poor moon, left lonely, and Lucy to
>burn.
idk why she is burning after dying? is she a witch or now ash?

honestly, at parts, i feel this is biblical in some way but i dont have nearly enough to get it

[Anonymous No.18358322]

>>18358293
I think a more regular meter would do you well, and trying to use more normal spoke sentences, like in stanza 2, line 2. It sounds awkward, even more so without a regular meter.

[Anonymous No.18358337]

>>18357909
Sounds like drunk slam poetry. Not good.

[Anonymous No.18358352]

All the times when time slowed or sped
Did you notice that it never stopped?
No points in time
Besides the angular nose at the end of a shaft
Arrowing clumsily but sure.

If the eye is a window,
Your nose is the vessel’s bowsprit, ahead-ship
Saddled upon the angel’s scarred oaken tits,
Freshest to the salted wind,
Splitting the seams of a congealed sea.
Pioneer upon untrodden horizon.
The first warm touches of a kiss
And the final

[Anonymous No.18358361]

>>18348707
>Here I sit
>Broken hearted

>Meant to shit
>Only farted

[Anonymous No.18358372]

>>18356770
>>18358317
in fact i could probably delve a little more into why i think its biblical but it may take a while. i really like the piece, dont get me wrong, with the rhymes at the end changing into the center and finishing off nicely the whole thing in three stanzas, i havent see anything like it which is why it intrigues (im not great with poetry so that doesnt mean its good, ill let other anons let you know if it is) but anyway, to discuss what i meant with biblical:

for some reason, this feels like some sort of summarized form of lucifer with the rest of the angels teasing him for something, idk, or maybe its not angels but i know something is affecting lucy and the fact that you never mention gender makes me think that it has to be lucifer.
anyway, the whole travelling salesman thing, like people often see them as "the devil" so to speak and because of that, forgive me if im wrong, but i assume you created this devillike character in a human form to magnify something like regret or depression or something in you, the poet, and thats seen in the second stanza and it feels like a merge of poet and subject in that moment\.
anyway, lucifer being tempted is in the second one after engaging in some devil behavior in the first, and then lucifer is banished or dies or something but the reason i think that this second stanza is a merging of subject and poet is the the three descriptions which feel less like you'd really have in a poem when one or two would suffice, there's something about the three being together that makes me feel like you have exiled yourself and see yourself as the devil or a part of you or something and that you are stuck in your memories... maybe thats the flesh echo part and you are reliving memories through your phone??
now for the last stanza, i liked, much like the first as they both have a succinct view on this barren world (even if isnt barren, from the perspective of the subject, all things are empty). i liked the fact that the chumps (presumably like peers?) cheered as the person died to continue this world where people didnt care but im confused with the blue stars, stock in store line as i would assume that you are talking about not able to retrieve memories but it feels a little out of my reach. anyway, the congregation and the omission of gender makes me think that lucy is being banished and you are speaking to yourself, looking back at yourself as a child, lonely and burning (assuming burning is either passionate about something, literal burning, or betrayal)

anyway let me know if anything about this is near or correct or whatever because im quite interested in this and it seems super deep

[Anonymous No.18358378]

>>18330080
Alike
Man in all his places
Lost in a crowd
The spilled thoughts of strangers around
Delicately finding foot between bouncing knees
As in a throng of trees
atop a thousand matted carpets lain
shadow-thin lace swaying in step with a breathing wood

These, so much as the stick poking embers
to reinvigorate or to pull into dust

A land,
best looked at from one opposite
What judge of land is a glimpse at a shore?
Its hostility a beckoning voice,
"Overcome me"
"Or let this be your final place."
For fallen trees are tripped over or rested upon in equal measure

[Anonymous No.18358385]

>>18355745
The poem seems like a fun one, but you use unrhymed, catalectic meter (I think accidently metered), which makes it more of a solemn sounding thing. I think if you want to make it more fun and light, you can rhyme, or at least put it in a regular anapestic meter with more extravegant imagery. As an example, make the elephants dress in royal red carpets and acrobats flying through the air like white sails, etc. something amazing. I believe it's about a child listening to their own heartbeat and blood, so you could go all out with the connections.

[Anonymous No.18358395]

>>18355538
I did. I think the poem would be better served with just a little more clarity about what's going on, but if you're going for the that style don't listen to me.

[Anonymous No.18358403]

>>18355170
Is this about war? I like the style, but it seems a little weak in specificity so I'm not quite sure what it's about.

[Anonymous No.18358416]

>>18354440
Don't like the fungi imagery.
>>18352781
It has that feeling.

[Anonymous No.18358425]

>>18358352
I don't see the connection between the two stanzas. Are they seperate poems?
I also don't like either. No meter, rhyme, nor interesting imagery. It does have a rhythm, but not regular enough to carry me through the poem.

[Anonymous No.18358441]

>>18358378
I like the rhyme in the beginning, even if I don't understand the poem, but its lost less than halfway through and then I just get imagery I can't put into a good story or message.

[Anonymous No.18358455]

I unzipped my tent and to my surprise
I found an unknown couple assfucking inside
‘what the fuck!’ I shouted, ‘get out of my tent!’
She blushed and he said sorry and they speedily left

I was thankful for no visible mess
But still it left me feeling pretty depressed
How much mood enhancement did they truly stand to gain?
All because of them I’m feeling lonely again

[Anonymous No.18358479]

>>18358425
The idea is that your nose is also your first point of contact with the future, time etc. and that it has a literal point

[Anonymous No.18358481]

Sparkle lanes,
Go different ways.
Stuck running
While i'm
Sunning.
'Cause the first sun
In 14 years
Came 'round
And like you,
It weighs me down.

[Anonymous No.18358541]

>>18358305
>>18358309
>>18358322
>>18358337
>>18358385
>>18358395
>>18358403
>>18358416
>>18358425
>>18358441
My critiques

My limerick:

Was a skeptic of low intellect,
Who said "Earth is flat, I suspect,"
We all said that he lied,
So he jumped off the side,
And dammit, I guess he's correct.

>>18358479
Ah. Time can't be stopped so you are like the figurehead of a ship, unable to do anything but watch the ride? If so, I don't like the message, but it would be better served with a more clear connection betwern those two ideas.
>>18358481
Sounds like a song

[Anonymous No.18358553]

>>18358541
do the ones you missed and ill give you a proper critique

[Anonymous No.18358557]

>>18358541
>sounds like a song
Been listening to lots of Bob Dylan so maybe that's leaking into my poetry. Thanks for reading and replying.

[Anonymous No.18358558]

>>18358553
lol

[Anonymous No.18358563]

>>18358541
I like your limerick. More please

[Anonymous No.18358569]

>>18358557
I think a singer could make that into a very catchy song, as a poem it's decent, but would need editing and a little more there to justify it.

[Anonymous No.18358587]

>>18358563
I only wrote a few and that one is by far the better one, but here's another two.

I went to see my doctor in North Rudder,
After a sexual stint through the gutter,
He told me the scabs
Were caused by crabs
And "No, you can't have them with butter."

An Irishman wanted some flavor,
But fortune was not in his favor,
Found one spud on his farm,
Took it back to his barn,
"Should I eat it or make liquor for later?"

The second one was made with a friend just bullshitting together, so not mine entirely.

[Anonymous No.18358599]

>>18358441

The idea with this one is broadly mankind encountering the unknown/chaos, the challenge of an unconquered land, the call to adventure (i.e. the stick poking the embers), but that this occurs similarly whether in nature or in a busy city (trees/knees)

[Anonymous No.18358601]

>>18330080

[Anonymous No.18358608]

>>18358541
It's not that you can't do anything but enjoy the ride, merely that thise is your physical point of contact with the future. You go through life nose-first, however mundane this observation is. The only time I can think of your nose touching that of another person is in kissing.

[Anonymous No.18358649]

>>18358599
I got some kind of idea like that, but I guess you could connect the world today with the unconquered worlds of the past more. Telling me the idea behind the poem only lets me see how it wasn't conveyed well enough in it.
>>18358608
The figurehead imagery gives off that impression of helplessness, along with the unstoppable time in the beginning. Perhaps changed the imagery? Although I realize that is a lot of the poem.

[Anonymous No.18358676]

>>18358601
>snapchat
lmao. It's nice to read and neat, but not too interesting. I wouldn't change much. Just move on to another poem because I think this one's near done if not already.

[Anonymous No.18358698]

>>18358649
>Telling me the idea behind the poem only lets me see how it wasn't conveyed well enough in it.

Possibly, but to me it seems quite up front.

>The figurehead imagery gives off that impression of helplessness

That time is unstoppable and that you plunge into it head first doesn't necessitate a kind of helplessness at all, I'm not sure why you seem to think so. You steer a ship, though are of course subject to winds and storms. It's a pretty basic analogy. The jist of this poem is the relation of love and kissing to the uncertainty of the future, using the simple subject of the nose.

[Anonymous No.18358752]

>>18358698
I just re-read, and the eyes as windows and the nose betwee the figureheads breasts made me think the eyes were from the figurehead, so that was my bad. You are the whole ship not just the figurehead, which is where I got confused.

[Anonymous No.18358895]

test

[Anonymous No.18359851]

The Solsequium

1
Lyk as the dum
Solsequium,
With cair ou'rcum,
An sorrow, quhen the sun gaes out of sicht,
Hing doun his heid,
And droups as deid,
And will no spreid ;
Bot looks his leavis, throu langour of the nicht,
Till fulish Phaeton ryse,
With quhip in hand,
To cleir the crystall skys,
And licht the land :
Birds in thair bour
Luiks for that hour,
And to thair Prince ane glaid good-morrow givis;
Fra thyn, that flour Cist not to lour,
Bot lauchis on Phoebus lousing out his leives:
...

[Anonymous No.18359968]

>>18359851
Excellent work, Mr. Pound.

Poem untitled:
I wait and I wait,
Sitting, reposed,
For that daring of Damascus
That compact suet gate.
A blanket... What?
“If there’s anything at all, it’s waning towards a death-dream.”

It’s her voice that brings me joy.
Another chariot to drive us home.
Waiting, waiting...
On the brink, the precipice, blinking in their courtly way.

The children coming,
Running along home,
Screaming they’ve seen a ghost in the wood.

She craves a mandarin orange.
The echo resounds, bleating
Like a tin-shack in a deluge.
The garden is watered then.
Things do take care of themselves.

Where in the woods?
Where in the woods, honey?
“On the brink, the precipice,”
I heard it say.

[Anonymous No.18359972]

>>18359851
You overdosed on James Joyce. This isn't interesting or fun to read. It's not even fun to try decode. Please write coherently and don't hide behind this nonsense.

[Anonymous No.18359978]

>>18359968
Brilliant. Treat to read from start to finish. I would like to read more of your poems and if you could recommend some of your favourite poets, that'd be great.

[Anonymous No.18360010]

>>18359968
>Mr. Pound.
?
It's by Alexander Montgomery
Don't know who Pound is.
>>18359972
>Please write coherent
Because it isn't in English...

[Anonymous No.18360051]

I love tennis! There's nothing like it. Taking my racket and whacking away, I can have fun all day!

I love tennis! Me and my partner take turns swinging. Our volley never ends.

Tennis is cool. I don't know what to. My partner swings are getting slower. That's okay, as long as they keep playing anyway.

Tennis is... alright. I don't get many returns. It was such a fun game but now? Who knows...

Their racket is on the ground. My partner is nowhere to be found. I can't play by myself. It's official, it's become a chore. I don't want to do this anymore.

I hate tennis.

Yet I still swing.

[Anonymous No.18360072]

>>18360051
Not sure how I feel about this at all, it feels surreal in how plain it is. The metaphor is bland and one dimensional and the last two lines read like a thirteen year old's diary.
This is definitely unique in how weird it is. It reads like a generated poem from a really basic AI poetry bot in beta stages.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18361499]

Start of a new poem, will complete later.

Grey? Pray Gay yesterday, youthful jewel Laid
demask; dappling glories Golden, Olden
oaks shimmer silver, rains shade every glade,
each hid delightful dreams deep;sleep beholden

[Anonymous No.18361885]

Just lost a bunch of money today boyos! what's up.!!
~
"My Wife"
she tastes like a murky puddle over concrete

leaks her black sludge
and buzzes like a blown-out stereo.

she burns like kreteks after midnight

wears the warm vanilla smell
of sedan wiring, provoking the rats to feast.

>>18360051
surreal in its simplicity. based tennis bro

>>18358455
I like the comedic depravity of the first stanza alot, maybe the next one could lead into masturbating about the event?

[Anonymous No.18362224]

Here's a poem I wrote about being an incel:

The bloom hung heaviest on her bosom blooms/Down wayward doomed, the trampled sidewalk womb,/And long to reach, to touch the light above/But lies there cold, unfurled, unfucked, unloved.

[Anonymous No.18362309]

>>18362224
What is a bosom bloom? Boob flowers? Big if true.

[Anonymous No.18362961]

>>18361499
The other anon gave you some decent advice when they told you to chill with the alliterations. It becomes too cumbersome and reads as if you're really straining. There is potential there tho

[Anonymous No.18363186]

>>18347917
You're in every poetry thread

[Anonymous No.18363432]

>>18363186
I think there are a few regulars in these threads, what's your point?
>>18362224
It's good, I'm not sure what vibe you were going for but the description of virginity towards the end is actually quite pure. I don't think you realise how blessed you are.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18363890]

>>18362961
Yeah I know, that poem which I’m working on is supposed to have an ornament on every word, I was reading some of the poetry of AE Russell, really enjoying it, so I went to read some analysis/critique concerning him, and first thing I read is a Joyce scholar shitting on him for being too nice, comfy and innocent; so that ticked my autism and made me want to write a poem kinda in his style but intentionally making everything as sugary as possible.

[Anonymous No.18364193]

>>18363432
I think it's pretty neat

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18364209]

>>18363186
Yeah sorry! I like discussing poetry and i Constantly write new poetry, so i feel like it’s good to get constant critique, perhaps i over post but it’s fun.

[Anonymous No.18364269]

>>18362309
I guess in my own inceldom I ended up describing a roastie with sagging tits to describe the feeling of being an incel

[Anonymous No.18364289]

>>18363432
Thanks, anon. Unfortunately, I have been with a woman. That's what makes being an incel so sad now. I don't know how people go their whole lives like this. It's not fair.

[Anonymous No.18364332]

>>18330826
>>18331614
>>18332707
>>18332967
>>18334014
>>18334233
pl*bb*t fuck off

[Anonymous No.18364355]

>>18362224
That is so dark, bruh. But the dictions aren’t really abstract so it understandable kind of poem.

This is my poem :

No Daily Coom

By : Boris Rudolf

The journey is about to take
No more dark abbys, narrow room, and daily coom
New place new people are waiting
This is just ohhh the beginning

Hemingway and Alpha M are the true Saviors
Now i am seeing the resurrection of the sun
Oh the warmness
Oh the growing sun flowers

Have you saw the ocean in my eyes?
The empiric stuff can’t lies
Have you saw the fire in my face?
This means gonna be the best

Hug me tight
In the midnight
Kiss me slowly
Kill the anxiety

And the laugh and the smile are the manifestation
A long journey without destination

Just seeing how things should be
Birds flying, Fish swimming, and the trees growing

We find a life in motion.

(Juny 1, 2021)

[Anonymous No.18364560]

>>18364355
Good

[Anonymous No.18364592]

>>18361499
tasteless
>>18360051
the second i love tennis could lose the "!"
>My partner
>they
>Their
>Yet
are too impersonal
>I don't know what to
what to what?
>>18358601
nice but last lines of both stanzas could rhyme
>>18358587
>later
could have rhymed. first one heheh'd
>>18358541
heheh'd but the comas and phrasing on lines 2 and 4 break the flow. like i want it to be "god dammit" while reading
>>18358481
>go
could be in first line. the last line shold be punchier and flow and shape could be better but i like all the words
>>18358455
flow is all wierd. some suggestions (not enough tho)
>She blushed and he said sorry. they speedily left
>But it still
but i love the plot
>>18358293
mostlu good. except
>vision supreme
our vision supreme?
>embers
bad poem word
>>18357909
great. meh on last line. still saved
>>18356005
>A collar from which are tears
>from last nights feat
theres like a verb missing here
>>18355745
adjectives keep this from reaching its heights
>rhythms
bad poem word
>>18354406
morph instant into rhyming with succulent like
>insta-tant
and u got something good
>>18354355
the first stanza should be like the others and end with me my niggaz and I. otherwise good
>>18352756
>tik tok
ugh. otherwise great
>>18352706
great. do you mean nirvana - woohoo.mp4?
>>18352622
nice image. repetition and adjectives unnecessary
>rhytmic
bad poem word
>>18352236
ive seen better math poems. you can do better
>>18348598
the impenetrability is the best part. saved
>drown out the reverb
usually reverb drowns things out. remove/cut out/turn down/take away/hush down the reverb?

[Anonymous No.18366324]

Bump

[Anonymous No.18366403]

>>18331335
Nice, but needs more stanzas to flesh out this idea.
Like, what's an 'astral mind'? What is the 'chaos-sphere'?

>>18331431
Intredasting, need add more days.

>>18331614
Wut?

>>18333174
Lyrical meets musical, not bad.

>>18333960
Very succinct.

>>18334480
The poet/narrator takes a step back from the stack of books.
At the same time, the poet/narrator "yields" a step towards his grave.
That's the best, most intriguing part, though it doesn't explain why his yielding a step "to my grave" is redemptive or whatever it's supposed to be.

>>18337969
Very Talmudic.

>>18338372
Beautiful.

'pride month'

faggots are so insufferable
the certainty is inexorable
that someone, somewhere will decide
they can and will extinguish pride
from power pylon, scaffold, roof
or lofty window, perched aloof,
awaiting the best time to strike
while lining up their sights on dyke
with shaven pate or dyed of hair
as she parades across the square,
or looking down at gross physiques
of pedo bears and tranny freaks,
taking aim at loathsome fags
from high above the rainbow flags
they have no reason to exist
until that puff of pinkish mist
appears to let one know for sure
for faggotry exists one cure.
waiting and watching, on the hunt
June really is the funnest month.

[Anonymous No.18366520]

The Wall

The wall surrounding them they never saw;
The angels, often. Angels were as common
As birds or butterflies, but looked more human.
As long as the wings were furled, they felt no awe.
Beasts, too, were friendly. They could find no flaw
In all of Eden: this was the first omen.
The second was the dream which woke the woman.
She dreamed she saw the lion sharpen his claw.
As for the fruit, it had no taste at all.
They had been warned of what was bound to happen.
They had been told of something called the world.
They had been told and told about the wall.
They saw it now; the gate was standing open.
As they advanced, the giant wings unfurled.

[Anonymous No.18366890]

The SHIELD

The SHIELD surrounding them they never saw;
The Avengers, often. Avengers were as common
As ants or wasps, but looked more human.
As long as the portals were closed, they felt no awe.
Raccoons, too, were friendly. They could find no flaw
In all of New York: this was the first teaser.
The second was the dream which woke the woman.
She dreamed she saw the alien power his glove.
As for the stone, it had no power at all.
They had been warned of what was bound to happen.
They had been told of something called the snap.
They had been told and told about SHEILD.
They saw it now; the gate was standing open.
As they advanced, the giant portals unfurled.

[Anonymous No.18366921]

>>18366890
Cape shit infuriates me.

[Anonymous No.18366941]

>>18366890
truly epic and based

[Anonymous No.18367017]

The little bird didn't know what to do. All the other birds told him things he didn't think were true.

They say that his nest wasn't nice or right, that he needed it change it overnight. That it was too small, that he'll end up in a big fall.

The bird liked his nest, he built it himself, hard work and it was honestly tough!

The other birds didn't care. They laughed as the little bird felt personal despair.

Day in and day out, they'd point flaws in his nest, they frequently attempted to change or remove parts of it, much to the little birds distress.

It was tiring, trying to keep his nest the way it was. He didn't want his nest to change, but somedays he felt like it would be easier that way.

The little bird adamantly defended his nest, no matter how much the other birds protested.

But one day the little bird's body began to grow. He started to be not so little anymore. He was outgrowing his nest. What should he do? The not so little bird was afraid.

If he built more on his nest, wouldn't the other birds be correct?

Still, the big bird knew he couldn't just sit here. His nest had grown to small for him right there.

As the bigger bird built onto his nest, he found there was less distress.

His nest was still his nest. Just bigger like him, none of the other birds wants or changes were there.

It still had his favorite patch, his little opening for where his future eggs would hatch. His home was still as perfect could be, it had just grown, not changed you see?

The grown bird settled down his nest and knew no matter what any other bird said, it was his home.

[Anonymous No.18367387]

Im tired of getting fucked up
but Ill do it anyway
today im a scumbag yet,
im the savior of yesterday
smile when you see me
later ill be sent away

The rains drown the grass
with a vicious chokehold
mother nature warns me
Ill be next between her folds
spare me an explanation
some things arent meant to be known

[Anonymous No.18367421]

>>18345822
I really enjoy this one
>>18347271
I like how this one isn't trying so hard to be up its own ass. there's still stuff to figure out and interpret but it isn't someone trying to be so enigmatic it takes a team of cryptographers 10 years to decipher
>>18352706
this one is cool, kinda schizo, but cool nonetheless
>>18353833
I enjoy the subject matter here. gardens make me a happy guy.
>>18358541
short, funny, to the point. good sonnet friend.

this poem was mine, can I haz feedback?>>18367387

[Anonymous No.18367459]

In town, thin silver smoke
Wafts through the air.

Blue haired mermaids flow from lanes.
Their friends, tall, skinny men
Protect them from acid rain.

And in town, thin silver smoke
Was wafting through the air.
Remember it was brown and thick?

My tobacco trance was lifted
Exalting through pages and pages
Of books my mother gifted.

Her skin was amber, splashed in sun.
"You've become someone"
"You've become someone"
I sung and sung.

[Anonymous No.18367478]

>>18367421
>can i haz feedback
Sure.
The first two lines tell a good and perhaps complex story but i don't think its done well at all, feels like ive read it before.
>today im a scumbag yet, im the savior of yesterday.
I like this, feels.
Last stanza is okay bar the last two lines.
Overall has an edgy quality to it, it seems like you don't read much poetry from this. You should read and write more, good potential you have character for sure.

[Anonymous No.18367482]

>>18367387
>>18367421
Reads like a rap song. But I honestly like it! "Savior of Yesterday" is a nice line.

>>18367017
This is mine if anyone wants to feedback it

[Anonymous No.18367490]

>>18367459

This is mine by the way and ive posted feedback earlier too. I would like some feedback.

My feedback:
>>18367478
>>18363432
>>18360072

[Anonymous No.18367536]

Title: Views from a Bench.

I'm packed like pipe tobacco
Under the sun, so warm and wet.

I'm watching
Roughians spitting &
Lovers laughing
Into eachother's arms.

With rancid electricity surging
Through your legs,

I watch your step.
Under this sun you're so warm, so wet.

[Anonymous No.18367959]

On a tin roof
Stare down at me
God there watching

My last reprieve
A life in vain
Mercy on me

Ought I to die?
Then grant me speed!
Strength is mercy.

Embrace last peace.
Now I descend
For the last time?

But he, shall see.

[Anonymous No.18367970]

Yo, bitch, my name is Mike
I'm gon' ride yo' pussy like a bike
If anybody want it they can step to me
Cause i rock the mic so freshously

[Anonymous No.18368066]

Title: Kitchen at 4am.


The night reveals the ticking of your clock.
I see the stove, the black windows,
The folded up clothes.
I can smell our fruit bowl.
Nights spent reading poetry or prose.
By morning, you will harden
And take splashes of jam or spread
And be the mantle on which
I butter my bread.

[Anonymous No.18368080]

>>18368066

The night reveals the ticking of your clock.
I see the stove, the black windows,
The folded up clothes.
I can smell our fruit bowl.

By morning, you will harden
And take splashes of jam or spread
And be the mantle on which
I butter my bread.

--

Took out the middle line. It sucked. Otherwise im quite happt with this, thoughts?

[Anonymous No.18368980]

>>18368066
>>18368080
I like the second version better. It speaks to me about the anticipated regret of a formerly intimate person and the ability to subside on what is rather than what ought to have been. Either that or you're a toast nigger

too soon
---
and i see you've changed
i'm happy
i don't have the context
to describe progress
i'm just happy
my dreams of your success
mostly had to do with me
it's so good to let go

i'm glad you're too stupid to notice the difference
i'm the same as i always am
too soon to think that you changed, or that you should have
let's be the same
too soon to think i wouldn't simp on that shit
you knew i would've
maybe for a second
so for different or ever

do you and i'll be me
we'll never meet
god bless the free states of america

[Anonymous No.18369072]

>>18343715

Tulip flew into my room, seems like I only just saw him go
I wasn’t expecting him back so soon
I put some honey in a bottle cap, by the gap in the window
He eats and falls fast asleep in a teaspoon

Cut it down and Count the rings
Count the honeycomb wreaths of your wings
I know tulip’s heart is gold and good

When a friend fiercely stings
It hurts more than anything
I know tulip never ever ever would

>>18367459
>>18367017
>>18366520

amazing love these so much

[Anonymous No.18369100]

rita
---
my job is not to make you happy
or even do anything to you
my job has nothing to do with you

you're a nothing train to nowhere
i'm an easily persuaded rock
jumping on and off again

you're worse than the end of me
i'm killing to get there
i wait up for anything from you

strength until confrontation
then devotion
then fuck you, then nothing

[Anonymous No.18369986]

>>18368980
>I like the second version better. It speaks to me about the anticipated regret of a formerly intimate person and the ability to subside on what is rather than what ought to have been. Either that or you're a toast nigger
Thanks, appreciate it.
>>18369072
>amazing love these so much
I'm glad you enjoyed them.

I'll give some feedback later, I'm just awake.

[Anonymous No.18370087]

Overpass excited with movement
A gray candle seems to linger in the sky,
As if neither rising nor setting.
Its rays drape plainly, as a tired city's ember.

A sort of fatigued, robust plastic litters the streets,
maybe a McDonald's toy from the past?
The more you look, the more it stares back
Maniacally
As if even the thought occupies some ill-suited space.

[Anonymous No.18370179]

>>18368980
The first stanza is easily the best but that still needs serious work.
Last stanza is just weird and awkward.
The second stanza would have potential as a rap verse.

>>18369072
Pretty nice. This part is lovely:
>Cut it down and Count the rings
Count the honeycomb wreaths of your wings
I know tulip’s heart is gold and good

The last stanza too, is brilliant, except for the last line. You should take this out, i think.
By taking it out your message is still ringing through and it gives the poem a flavour of abstraction and deeper meaning rather than the last line trying to explain that feeling in a half baked way. I know good and would would not rhyme but this is okay, it actually gives the poem a nice feel if you end with the "ing" sound

[Anonymous No.18370222]

>>18370087
The opening line is quite weak and doesn't bring anything to mind.
>A gray candle seems to linger in the sky,
Good image.
First stanza - not the best, some parts don't flow all too well and it can feel a little clunky.

>A sort of fatigued, robust plastic litters the streets,
Good.
>maybe a McDonald's toy from the past?
>The more you look, the more it stares back
>Maniacally
Not doing it for me, the sudden manic personification of the McDonald's toy is too jarring and doesn't really work especially considering how you described the litter as fatigued earlier.
Last line is good.

I think there is a lovely collection of imagery to be found here but consistency and flow is kind of off. You definitely have something in mind because when I read this I start to daydream in my head, which is good.

[Anonymous No.18370978]

The noose is tightening, the news is sightings
The truth's frightening
Kabbalah studies in 51 produced by the titans
Follow the sergeant, the one handling the largest events
Made the top of department, fire bombing projects intense
Video farewell's off to majesty, it's all for salary
I never hold a grudge, taking judges to Applebee's
My team's fast, the IRS be thugging with masks
On the run for war games, bugs, and funnelling cash
I'll rob anyone, a lawyer with a gun in his stash
Beneath the remains of human ash, the gun in the bag
Gangsta, cherry Ketamine, the medicine, Pirelli spin, The New Order
Speaking through television like Benny Hinn
We rock blades and pop collars like hockey rings
'Pac was framed, they cloned him in the spot near the caves
To vegetate, claiming credit to detonate
Human bombs, nuclear arms, supermarket cancer and farms

[Anonymous No.18371099]

>>18370978
Shizo tier.
Not my cup of tea.

[Anonymous No.18372264]

deaf-blind like laments is all I have
weight heavy brought down to mistakes
feel fear grown hard to shitpost
tensed offline in mode ghost
'WHERE ARE WE FRENS??' but I alone
the fuck away blown
equivalent of street racing tyres torn
out faded tattoos of whores
chuckin' by the old road
on the playground the most old
thought that I bought
but most probably 'he sold'
makes you feel like a~
kvetchpost lord
'where are we' still on hold

[Anonymous No.18372887]

>>18367017
I liked it. Want more bird stories.
>>18367536
nudity underneath a trench coat. not necessarily bad or good. just how it seems to me.
>>18367959
enigmatic. 'But he, shall see' -- should it be He?
or is it 'but he~[mysterious pause], (He) shall see.'
>>18369072
Blessed.
>>18369100
>i'm an easily persuaded rock
nice. persuaded by wind? by faith in the Divine? by, pardon me, 'nothing'? angry, a very straightforward sitting rock. perhaps a moment he will grow pair of eyes.
>>18370222
>check 'em when you see them
>>18370087
>McDonald's toy from the past
nice. it stares back with a look of your childhood's promise. the one you have (perhaps almost) forgotten.
>>18370978
I honestly like the idea of 'Area 51 kabbalah studies'. but it would make it better if you'd make it less you know right?

[Anonymous No.18372940]

>>18330080
The Moon is blue
I hope you die
Da-ba-dee Da-ba-die

[Anonymous No.18372968]

>>18364592
>there's a verb missing
I don't think so. I'm linking those two phrases :3

[Anonymous No.18372977]

Upon the hill
I cannot stand still
My feed needs to seed
And upon the top
I have planted a pot
A pot of lots

I choose one
Thereupon from the mix
I see his name in my hands, right betwixt
"Sneeds feed and seed"
I cannot say as a Canuck
That my name was Chuck
But if it were, in some odd way
I could fuck and suck all day

[Anonymous No.18373123]

>>18330080
There was once a young boy
Who talked only of uses
For newfound mechanics
In large centrifuges.

Once he gained some numbers
To add to his age
All spinning: forgotten
‘twas time to get laid.

The washer revis’ted
There found his stepsister
And after some spinning
Inserted his pisser

[Anonymous No.18373164]

>>18372977
my condolences
>>18372940
bazed
>>18372264
lonely feel, much appreciate
>>18370978
good form, broken brain

grow up
---
when i grow up i want to play facebook games and wear a funny tee shirt
i wanna tell my friends work lunch's tuna today then say psych
and we'll all laugh on hamburger day
what a hoot

i want a birthday card for everyone i know
when i grow up i wanna say workin hard or hardly workin
and my really smart wife will say,
"Oh, Jim."

if i grew up my name would probably be Jim
i could grow old for my boss
and have the papers on his desk by tuesday
"Thanks Jim"

i could say things are pesky and think twitter's a website
but inside i would always love things younger than me
because by then i would know
i'm almost dead and i love you

by then i hope i don't have to call anyone and they call me instead
i hope i can sit in a rocker instead of falling off
by then pissing my pants is probably okay
when i grow up i want to shit my diaper

i want to be melodramatic about tv shows
called the news to complain about their report
i want to think that God's good and his angels don't lie
i want to live in a comfy house with more couches than two

also i'd like to be mad at at least half the population
i don't care what the qualifications are as long as they're TERRIBLE
when i grow up i wanna throw sticks at dogs
i'd like to worship money

i want to be fat, grey haired and disabled
get mad about commas
be careful you might get old before you know it
i don't want to remember anything except i love you

[Anonymous No.18373587]

>>18373493
not my own writing but if anyone wants to translate someone elses' stuff they're more than welcome.
should i have posted that here instead of making a thread?

[Anonymous No.18373812]

>>18369072
>>18369072
Disagree with >>18370179 I think you should keep the last line. It maintains the childlike innocence of the poem that I think you were going for. The rhyme is a better ending than "anything" as it maintains the metre of the stanza/poem. One of my favourites in this thread.

The Void

Every feigned smile, stitched into place,
Waxwork. Something beneath was hidden.
Those marbled eyes, shining lake of illusions,
Concealed. Behind, the object of despair.
Each stencilled word, to coat carefully,
Oblivion. Silently rose in greeting.
This yawning abyss, black, came to
Swallow. Fantasy of being human.
This shell, nothing now. Find a new mask,
Pretend.

[Anonymous No.18373877]

>>18373164
I like it.
>>18372977
sneed.
>>18369100
Kinda confusing, but if feels genuine and I appreciate that.
>>18369072
cute tulip.

Blank white, the snow mountain sheets glow before me in paper's fragile prison.
Frosted over are my fingers, frozen in the rime of an old giant's cold breath.
Death would only sound so sweet when suckling the teat of such a hag.
Biting my lip, let drip the warm blood. That's all I'm good for anywho.
Writing essays just ain't my thing.