Poetry Thread

[Anonymous No.18375664]

Post & Rate

[Anonymous No.18375668]

It's the director Time
with hours late and minutes past
behind and forward slipping fast
the clock shows winter's secret past
the spectacle is set to start

and here again it's Mercury
no pardon me it's Memory
again the same old lady young
forgets and sings a stranger's tongue
yet still mature compared to her
who speaks in images that whir

My god, how can you keep them under lock
direct this mess and babytalk
"I can't", he says and self-inserts
Like maenads he drinks and flirts

[࿇ C Œ M G E N V S ࿇ !KNDY3cHnRY No.18375710]

I CAN RETIRE FROM POETRY NOW.

[Anonymous No.18375927]

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.

--
>>18375668
Really cool. Has a lot of style and nice imagery.

[Anonymous No.18375944]

In town, thin silver smoke
Wafts through the air.

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

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

My tobacco trance began to lift
Exalting through page after page
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.18376440]

>>18375710
Please do

[Anonymous No.18376592]

And this is what we did:
We played then layed in bed all day
You were a sorcerer, I was a poet
Then we did what all friends may
do when they're alone.

But an hour later, your
parents came and took you away
I watched from the window as you
Left our yard, went off the driveway
Played poet on my own

[Anonymous No.18376685]

>>18375944
comfy
>>18375710
thanks cumgenius, very cool
>>18375668
fpbp
>>18376592
I don't like it


the mad emperor
---
caligula, kentucky derby, erotic rape, awake
from god to satan you signal virtue and hate
nails, skyscrapers, lips, eyes, teeth, tongue
the curling ground reaches up to greet you
vital signs roaring, conscience gone, death awaits
and you hold it in your hand
bestow it upon them
by their act of living they beg for it

atrophy, loveless, tooth decay, orgasm, rot
from the sticky sheets to the blocked messages
stable, free, happy, sane, godlike, blessed
kill it while it's alive before it's too late
strings surge, the heart swells, eyes tear
unleash the flood and be known
cry for nothing
only you can see you

it's a mad emperor sunday and blood's water
meet me in the hippodrome and fuck me
i miss the shame of being used
i became happy by loving the pain
nails, splinters, power, growth, strength
hammer the wood, build the wall
cotton, comfort, sleep, luna, cold green light
there's not enough room for the both of us

you're planned obsolescence from the start
i'm here to bury the past, start digging
the curling ground reaches up to greet me
and it's your shovel falling dirt in the air
green, living, beautiful, love, safe, home
there's no words for the end of summer
scream, kick, punch, spit, bite, maim
keep going, make this hellhole your paradise

[Anonymous No.18376688]

>>18376592
Very good and honestly quite sad. You can tell you have a developed skill. Would like to read some more of your stuff.

[Anonymous No.18376809]

movement in my periphery
perhaps my perception is lacking as such
that you typified a shadowed blur to me
obligatory greetings exchanged
amid the commonplace precariousness
of my societal interactions
demanding my tailored and worn expressions
of course abandon my attention as the erratic blur departing
sometimes incredible seamlessness blesses the feel of our interactions
imbues warmth with memory
before evoking my eventual suffering
of the recognition of impermanent reality
that doesn’t always feel like a suffering

[Anonymous No.18376971]

Nysgerrighedsselvmord
At leve er:
at blændes af månelys før daggry
eller
at føle drømmens håndgribelighed

Livet er:
et kenofobisk foster
eller
et leksikons blanke forside

Som vi ikke tør åbne
af frygt for, at bvi ikke forstår sproget på den anden side

Døden er:


translation


Curiositysuicide
To live is:
to be blinded by moonlight before dawn
or
to feel the tangibility of a dream

Life is:
a kenophobic fetus
or
a blank front page of an encyclopedia

Which we dare not open
because we might not understand the language on the other side

Death is:

[Anonymous No.18376993]

>>18376592
c'mon man

In all serious, this is the first time I've read a poem here which made me shed a tear or two.

[Anonymous No.18377029]

They got AIDS infecting the globe
Laser weapons and clones
Conquerors, presidents, death, artificial intelligence
Frozen organs, post mortem, Alien Malachi York
And Five Percenters, twelve tribes forever
Get your mind together
Who decides truth?
Guys in ties and suits? Violent kooks from private schools?
Peep how rules are taught
Duels are fought using thoughts like swords
Pay for groceries with the DNA codes in your vocal cords
The order of the world has already been bought
Robocops is programmed to kill and ready for war
Drink your cocaine cause drugs is legal!
Androids rule the streets of New York, screaming
"Fuck the people!"
Even a priest can fall in love with evil
If a bitch that's sucking his dick swallow nut and gulp the semen
Election Day, young Americans who vote for demons
Overachieving, yo we sniff blow or blow up precincts

[Anonymous No.18377031]

Portrait 9

crossly my arms
wrapp'd round you
like lock to key

your head nuzzles
into my chest
and softly muzzles
you, your breath
blows gently down
as I caress your crown
and your speech
is muffled by
no snuffles ever

because where your are here in my arms
and because I belong here nowhere
else not any time or any place or

you fit here like a key

---------
>>18375927
Nice work, simple, it reminds me a bit of Ogden Nash.

>>18375944
I like this poem, but I am somewhat bothered by the discrepancy in your third stanza, how can the thin silver smoke also be brown and thick? I assume this was an intentional artistic choice, but what was the intention behind it?
The last stanza is beautiful.

[Anonymous No.18377085]

>>18377029
orpheus morpheus

>>18377031
really nice. big sad because i dont have this anymore but yeah this is sick

[Anonymous No.18377089]

shoveling junk. shouldn't it be kept close
I mean closed
a confused Eros
to find a hole, a breach
and roar be thy speech
fear and shame. shame of shame
shame of fear. fear of shame
say it's Alchemy, a redemption
and Love. Love beyond the word 'Love'
reassessment of tension
the first and minor of gifts
some tropes maligned easily
yet it is possible to offend Deity
the one that is absence

[Anonymous No.18377099]

>>18377031
>how can the thin silver smoke also be brown and thick?
It's not supposed to be dualist in the fact its both at once.
Thin and silver is the present.
Brown and thick is the past, that's why the subject is remembering it.
Apologies if that was unclear, the original line before i edited it was something like:
"Do you remember the smoke was brown and thick?".

[Anonymous No.18377108]

>>18376809
this is good, feels like i'm in your mind. the ending is strangely hopeless and hopeful. very comfy poem.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18377115]

A poem by AE Russell


By The Margins Of The Great Deep

WHEN the breath of twilight blows to flame the misty skies,
All its vaporous sapphire, violet glow and silver gleam,
With their magic flood me through the gateway of the eyes;
I am one with the twilight's dream.

When the trees and skies and fields are one in dusky mood,
Every heart of man is rapt within the mother's breast:
Full of peace and sleep and dreams in the vasty quietude,
I am one with their hearts at rest.

From our immemorial joys of hearth and home and love
Stray'd away along the margin of the unknown tide,
All its reach of soundless calm can thrill me far above
Word or touch from the lips beside.

Aye, and deep and deep and deeper let me drink and draw
From the olden fountain more than light or peace or dream,
Such primaeval being as o'erfills the heart with awe,
Growing one with its silent stream.

[Anonymous No.18377131]

>>18377115
Based Irish schizo-cyclist riding through hills to the moon bog to make incantations for the sake of Tír na nÓg

[Anonymous No.18377135]

falling
into place, falling
down the cliff face
somehow
collect another scrape

build up
scars from each place
start again
arse ache
heartbreak
cant wait

[Anonymous No.18377178]

Lost contest the age old bed dried up.
Thin wisps of snake skin the varicose veins.
Beat down by father sun, no more running.
Skeletal frame slight, no coffin or cadaver.
Often an echo sounds its brittle being.
The scavengers mourning their ill luck.
Where has their tucked away oasis fled?
Who has drank up this tiny riverbed?

[Anonymous No.18377254]

>>18377178
good. open-eyed I'd say.
>>18377135
seems legit. however, 'can't wait' for what - for more or for atonement
>>18377031
beautiful.
>>18377029
breath.jpeg
>>18376685
very goth

[Anonymous No.18377295]

>>18376592
I love the poem but I hate the ending verse.

[Anonymous No.18377347]

gay for spaghetti
---
hell yeah...
look at that pot...
oh, don't you know?
i'm gay for spaghetti
make my boipucci wetti
that sauce taste incredi
took a shit eatin spaghetti
scooped it up and had seconds
tomato and garlic are my weapons
i reckin this pot needs a wreckin
boilin over with olive oil
basil sugar salt and dick
don't ever fuckin forgetti
yeah you know i'm gay for spaghetti

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18377696]

>>18377031

Before I begin, I must admit a natural bias against romantic(as in Eros) poetry.

>crossly my arms

While it’s a fine first image, it doesn’t strike the overall theme of the poem, doesn’t color in enough from the beginning, crossly also feels awkward as a term to begin a sentence with.

>wrapp'd round you

Around sounds better than round, wrapp’d instead of wrapped is also an odd choice.

>like lock to key

Fine, it’s the core of your imagery/impression you wish to give off.

>your head nuzzles
>into my chest
>and softly muzzles

Nuzzling and muzzling while it’s a fine rhyme, produces almost animal-like imagery to me, unfit for things such as locks and keys.


>you, your breath

Usually I’m fine with words and sentences exceeding a line break, but because each line is so short, it feels like strain against your own 3/4 syllable restriction and not like a genuine stylistic choice.

>blows gently down
>as I caress your crown

As I caress your crown feels cheap and is just there to rhyme, doesn’t fit the rest of the poem.

>and your speech
>is muffled by
>no snuffles ever

Good movement with muzzle-nuzzle-muffle-snuffles, but snuffles itself feels too childish for the rest, crown and snuffles dont feel like they should be said by the same person in such proximity to each other.

>because where your are here in my arms
>and because I belong here nowhere
>else not any time or any place or


Speech kinda devolves here but I think it’s supposed to feel like the words don’t fit together.

>you fit here like a key

A fine ending.

Was the poem intended to resemble a key?

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18377714]

A sheet of thick sickly sweet syrup


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.

Devoted dewdrop; Prima materia
and Azoth aleph, hermes synthesizes
sizes; small! large! enormous gargantua
and dwarfest Tom Thumb! bright tinctured their Guises!

Golgotha agleam! multitudes destitute
driven nescient, nourish feverishly;
yearning gestalt, ground;vault crowned, change absolute,
as shallow hallowed hollowed, death’s dying tree

changed into life.

[Anonymous No.18377865]

Palabra mentirosa, traidora,
eres la promesa que nunca llega,
el oasis que se le aparece tililante al hombre perdido.
Ninguna combinación de letras
restaurará el pasado,
abolirá el azar.
Tu imperio no termina,
el fuego de tu iris consume planetas,
llenan tus huestes bibliotecas infinitas.
Y sin embargo
con la desesperación del condenado
me hundo de nuevo en tus aguas
buscando la perla que redima
tanto agravio.

[Anonymous No.18378020]

>>18377714
the rhymes and alliteration are cool, somehow I am missing the connection between stanzas especially going from alchemic language to the crucifixion. a decent poem
>>18377031
it reminds me of this commissioned voice clip of weeb girl saying nuzzle wuzzle senpai uwu, I guess the whole to me is base
>>18377029
Cool song, correct criticism, like some lines but like the thing as a whole most
>>18376685
second line is the best line 'from god to satan you signal virtue and hate' seems specifically southern and i kinda like the lines of violence, decent song
>>18376592
good story telling in a short poem
>>18375927
great flow, feel stupid since I don't get the image painted.
>>18375668
great flow, great rhymes, don't get it

Ode to a Zombie

Thou art the mold
Which enriches bread.
Thy beauty to behold,
Though thou art dead
Is like a sweltering storm
Above a sea of foam,
Thy beauteous form
Makes me to feel at home.

Thy putrid kiss,
Thy festering wounds,
This feeling of bliss,
From thy creaking bones.
Dry and scaly skin,
Thy rancid breath,
Thy body is so thin,
But I count it for the best.

Though I haven't been loved before,
From what I've seen,
You're loving me more -
Not for my riches,
Or my fame,
Like those other bitches,
But for my brains.

[Anonymous No.18378316]

Four walls,
are the world.
Intersecting lines meet
in corners, unfurled.

They keep order, symmetry,
and peace.
Not like the trees,
outside; crumpled and creased.

Of course, I can leave.
Grow tired, step outside.
Inhale and breathe.

Still.
Something remains,
of that geometric place.
Overlaid on smiles,
Some memory, some trace.

Far harder, it seems,
to escape from these,
haunted boxes of the mind.
Trap, contain, and freeze.

No glass pane here
offers a break in vision,
to destroy the brickwork,
the barriers, the prison.

Only an external
force can create
a crack in the fortress.
A saviour from fate.

When will it come?
Which is the hour?
I have no answers.
No freedom. No power.

Perhaps a chance meeting
tomorrow, on the street,
will destroy all;
a singular feat.

Alas! Till then I wait,
no escape from my walls.
Now pacing, now running.
A captive of time,
tumbling through infinite halls.

[Anonymous No.18378577]

>>18375944
Meh
>>18375710
Its in English. That is good. Its not very good though.
>>18376592
I don't like it. Your line breaks and commas need to be changed.
>>18376685
to long did not read.
>>18377029
nice Schizobabble
>>18377031
no
>>18378020
larp


>>18375664
>improvements?

Its

My back again
And it hurts

Pain

Under sweaters
And shirts

[Anonymous No.18378582]

>>18378316
nice, great ending aswell

[Anonymous No.18378589]

tried something here
(it is supposed to be a loop and the end is also the beginning but the translation was impossible, just know that the first "let" can also be read as a "that")

>shitty translation:

let this until now unknown street never cease so similar to so many other streets that I have known so little that I have loved like the one bearing my steps tonight disappeared streets swallowed by other streets bordered by other walls but one has got to move forward to turn in other streets turn again to always move forward un foot pushes a foot it is a step a step grows out of a foot two feet one step then two always continue step by step at the end of this street another street empty again emptiness that forces my steps emptiness under a foot the time of a step stop refuse the emptiness the emptiness refuses the emptiness turns and pulls the emptiness does not want to be empty I do not want the emptiness to be empty the emptiness is emptying itself the emptiness pulls me between these walls move forward so be it but to turn is unbearable every turn is a farewell I think I see you in this street without knowing who you are but if you are here be there also after the turn be the emptiness be the city in which all the streets are two feet two steps but only one street let it be always the same but always is nothing but a new again and always the steps are pushing me until where shall they brim over themselves I do not know but I feel with how much strength one has to flee the night and the full is not to be filled anymore it is impossible to refuse that the street ends so after turning I wish only to desire again (that this until now…)

[Anonymous No.18378601]

Summer's heat knocking on my grave
My chamber rots, exhumes a tortured slave
Generosity of pain
Shows a noble blood stained shirt
Scream help, on hold
Limbo of no God
Mazed bones
It's not life mere reflexes
Interrupted with sudden clown invasion of Canaan
Formerly Johann Georg now Baal Haman
Yeah, chuckin': Shrek 5
In my rocket gone by
Doing pullups, my life
Useless mullet
Saul Icke
Basement gnosis two times
Rancid shitpost feels nice don't it your stench lies low where Bible shmood is real as cries of a Toad the one you forgot little boi gone mad got blind God why cringe my rod big /fringe/ iron space ship
You don't like it you can skip
But when I say no and I mean no
Too much weight to know
What? Take it and stuff it black hole
Kant and whatever philosophy mole
Glasses and mommies collective soul
There's a shine in it, in a pile of deadbeats you know
'Bro u even read Kabbalah?'
Bro. You. Even.
Bubbling does it count as a virtue
Medieval folly praising something
One gets sick of that content Face
Smirking at your disgrace
'Fleshpots of Egypt' is the place
PEPENIS.
Mercury? world weary verily
Piss my old self and set it on fire
Nothing left right on to you, sire.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18378628]

>>18378020
Thanks! It was an attempt at creating a poem where every word either alliterates, rhymes or has my own invented form of alliteration, wanted it to melt into a sugary mush.

>Grey? Pray Gay yesterday, youthful jewel Laid demask;

If one is feeling grey, they ought invoke the memory of older days, which decorates the world.

>dappling glories Golden,

Infusing the memory and current experience with happiness

>Olden oaks shimmer silver, rains shade every glade,

Trees shine and then are dimmed by the changing of time, but

>each hid delightful dreams deep

The light which shined upon them did not die, they retain the life the glory of the sun has given them within their own vitality.

>sleep beholden.

Beholden to rest, resting within the memory of the good.

It then moves into memory of the type of good,

>Devoted dewdrop

The single drop of dew in alchemical thought is the soul of man, it is also alchemical mercury as the intermediary and changing force which allows the travel between heaven and earth, holy and mundane.

>Prima materia and Azoth aleph,

The First matter used in alchemy along with the alchemical life-spirit, the infusion of the breath of God, this is the dichotomy of God and man.

Cont

[Anonymous No.18378636]

>>18378316
Fucking garbage, either give up or eat a pane of glass so you die the painful death you fucking deserve

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18378639]

>>18378628
>hermes synthesizes

The mercurial faculty of the soul unites both the macrocosmic man, God, with the microcosmic man.


>sizes; small! large! enormous gargantua
and dwarfest Tom Thumb!

Used here to show the dichotomy of the Big and the small, again, God and Man.

>bright tinctured their Guises!

Their forms/features harmonize into a singular shining form, which is Christ.

>Golgotha agleam!

Golgotha both means skull/place or the skull and the literal Golgotha of the cross, thus the skull/mind is illuminated, but also the cross shining as a beacon, beckoning the multitudes.

>multitudes destitute driven nescient,

The many of the world, now in poverty without god, driven to ignorance,

>nourish feverishly;

Gulp the flesh and blood of Christ,

>yearning gestalt,

Seeking marriage and union with the body of Christ.

>ground;vault crowned,

Ground a reference to malkuth, the kingdom/people of God, vault/crown/crowned, names of kether, the highest perceivable manifestation of godhead in creation, thus, the people of God crowned with the Holy Spirit by the eating of the body of God.

>change absolute,

They have changed absolutely, but they have changed their nature into a union with the absolute, the same macrocosm microcosm harmonization.

>as shallow hallowed hollowed,

The shallow empty men, by becoming holy, become hollow in a holy sense, as they are empty of themselves and filled with God through the synthesis.

>death’s dying tree

Death’s dying tree being the tree of knowledge but also man himself, his mortality, and in particular the cross of Christ, which through death resulted in

>change into life.

The alchemical flip of the death of Christ causing the conquering of death and thus life immortal.

The whole poem could be summarized as “if you feel bad, remember Christ upon the cross.”

Kek.

[Anonymous No.18378656]

>>18375664
Your feet
What a treat

So white, and pretty

Need to say
Something witty

I could pay

What do you say

Show me your feet

Make my life
Complete

[Anonymous No.18378668]

>>18375664
What
Can I say

20k a day

Shit
Was spent

It came
And went

Not a cent

To my name
Me to blame

>>18378656
>>18378577
me

[Anonymous No.18378716]

>>18378639
>Seeking marriage and union with the body of Christ.
In this mystical act an operator plays a feminine role to a masculine body of Christ? Isn't it contra naturam in a wrong way.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18378765]

>>18378716
The Christ himself is always the male and his bride which becomes his body is the feminine, see the Song of Solomon for example. Let me clarify, by body of Christ I mean specifically the Eucharist and the entering into harmony with Christ, they seek to be filled with the Holy Spirit and become his body, to be gestalt human(normative man) and member of the body of Christ (who is the man-God.) and themselves be transmuted. No strange flip occurring, just the normative human as female and Christ as the male.

[Anonymous No.18378985]

>>18378577
All your criticism is pure hogwash. You like nothing but provide nothing constructive. What's the point?

[Anonymous No.18378997]

>>18378668
Nothing poetic about this. Reads like a really bad rap verse written by a white person.

[Anonymous No.18379211]

>>18378316

Got potential but too long.

[Anonymous No.18379635]

Every society honors its live conformists and dead troublemakers
I'm the Son of Satan, sculpted the culture of the ancients
Burn me at the stake with my left hand stuck in The Matrix
I'm the apex, I steal science off of spaceships
Blackwater contractors captured off of camcorders
After mass slaughter, violent massacre, Masters of Order
Burning effigies of presidents and American flags
Veterans clash for the chance to sell terror for cash
Babylon destroyed the Beis Hamikdash
Death cults, murder squads
Exploding churches and burning mosques
Throw your dice, now your destiny's cashed
And these seeds of war were planted over centuries past
And the mysteries remain unsolved, colossal pyramids on Mars
Visitors beyond the scriptures of Allah
God is on the side of the ones with money and large armies
Pray for death amongst these brainwashed zombies
November 5th, 2001, less than two months after 9/11 occurred
The infamous William Cooper was murdered
Ex-Naval Intelligence Officer
Renowned author of 'Behold A Pale Horse'
He paid the cost
I can't say I agree with everything that he wrote
But I admire him for speaking his mind though
Never holding his tongue for nobody, how society is brainwashed
Guns in each others faces for the same lies
Same everything and same nothing
Same bullshit materialism, the Third World man's luxury
This false flag fuckery, an AIDS infested junky
Your Lady of Liberty can't fuck me
Can't touch me, The Black Pope, superior general
Tim Osman riding like a Piru from Inglewood
Bring the hood up to a hovering mothership
They already made the switch to the One World Government
Amongst the Ivory Tower witch doctors, witnessed an explosion
On the Groom Lake landing strip, silicon sorcerers abandoned ship
Famine gripped the planet with the gigantic Satanic fist
Believed to be linked to Al-Qaeda through a sandwich business
I don't advise you to believe, these could be camera tricks
All I'm saying is to ask questions, amateurs
What Hollywood tries to pass off as fantasy
Might already have happened in actuality
And vice versa, if Jesus Christ was a person
Who was Mithra? Who was Krishna?
Who was the first to be baptized, crucified, resurrected?
Betrayed and made into a martyr for someone else's redemption?
Old men start wars for young dudes to die in
Madison Avenue telling you what you should be buying
Religion and science always profess peace
But in the end who created the deadly war machine?

[Anonymous No.18379655]

>>18378589
I honestly like this, even if a bit schizo. Maybe cut it down a bit, some good imagery though.

[Anonymous No.18379814]

>>18377099
Oh I see exactly what you mean now. I think that is on me for not reading it closely.

[Anonymous No.18379826]

>>18379635

[Anonymous No.18379837]

>>18377865
anon, this is muy hermoso!
Deep within a fissure in the side of my mind,
the buzzing of an insect can be faintly heard.
Approaching tentatively, I find that the sound
grows louder and louder, whirring and clicking with
a wretched mechanical intoxication.

An overhead perches on the wall like a vulture
that lets its prey flee before tearing off its head.
Beams of light stretch into the thick, stultifying
darkness that catches on my throat and makes me choke.
It is my own darkness, the vulture cackles, before
shifting, in the gloom, back to his mechanical form,
bolts and screws glistening with arrogant simplicity.

Where do these beams arrive, O Vulture of my Mind?
"I am Mastodon", he says, "and I am the Earth".

Merely more puzzled, I step into the thick gloom,
hoping for tea and croissants when I arrive at the cinema,
and perhaps some company.

Of a sudden, the vulture uncoils and cries,
"Beware! Young Servant of the deeps! If you reach
the end of this labyrinth, you will have learned
everything there is to know." and there is a glint
in his eyes as he recedes, this time.

I take another step, and place my ragged
umbrella down.

Another step. Wading through the
blackness, retching on the dust. Through the haze I
see an old friend, one who cared for me
when I nearly lost the world.
I beam with all my energy, call out to him,
and he keeps on walking, with his head down,
his wide-brimmed hat covering his eyes.

Another step, and I'm whirled into the grasp
of a cheerful red-headed woman who promises
me the world, but I falter, failing to recognise her,
so I start to run, away and away until I can be no
further.

Another dear friend approaches from the distance,
hands in his pockets, until it comes time for
glancing at me and nodding, returning to
his reverie and leaving me to mine.

Slowly, a sense of doom encompasses my heart,
constricting its pulse to thud with my footsteps,
slowly, slowly. I falter and fall,
screaming as if I were being born
again, screaming as if I were the mother.

The shadowy figures emerge and encircle me,
laughing at my tears, jeering, prodding me,
constantly cackling. I feel a rage so intense
that I become Mastodon, I become the Earth,
and unleash their True Names upon them all.

Their souls dissipate back into the shadows,
and I reclaim them for my own.

I am Mastodon, I am the Earth.

[Anonymous No.18379839]

Dont have it to hand but i tryhard wrote something focusing on food like egg and rice...is that cringe from the get go? Metaphots involved the white race and 40yo women

[Anonymous No.18379866]

Deep within a fissure in the side of my mind,
the buzzing of an insect can be faintly heard.
Approaching tentatively, I find that the sound
grows louder and louder, whirring and clicking with
a wretched mechanical intoxication.

An overhead perches on the wall like a vulture
that lets its prey flee before tearing off its head.
Beams of light stretch into the thick, stultifying
darkness that catches on my throat and makes me choke.
It is my own darkness, the vulture cackles, before
shifting, in the gloom, back to his mechanical form,
bolts and screws glistening with arrogant simplicity.

Where do these beams arrive, O Vulture of my Mind?
"I am Mastodon", he says, "and I am the Earth".

Merely more puzzled, I step into the thick gloom,
hoping for tea and croissants when I arrive at the cinema,
and perhaps some company.

Of a sudden, the vulture uncoils and cries,
"Beware! Young Servant of the deeps! If you reach
the end of this labyrinth, you will have learned
everything there is to know." and there is a glint
in his eyes as he recedes, this time.

I take another step, and place my ragged
umbrella down.

Another step. Wading through the
blackness, retching on the dust. Through the haze I
see an old friend, one who cared for me
when I nearly lost the world.
I beam with all my energy, call out to him,
and he keeps on walking, with his head down,
his wide-brimmed hat covering his eyes.

Another step, and I'm whirled into the grasp
of a cheerful red-headed woman who promises
me the world, but I falter, failing to recognise her,
so I start to run, away and away until I can be no
further.

Another dear friend approaches from the distance,
hands in his pockets, until it comes time for
glancing at me and nodding, returning to
his reverie and leaving me to mine.

Slowly, a sense of doom encompasses my heart,
constricting its pulse to thud with my footsteps,
slowly, slowly. I falter and fall,
screaming as if I were being born
again, screaming as if I were the mother.

The shadowy figures emerge and encircle me,
laughing at my tears, jeering, prodding me,
constantly cackling. I feel a rage so intense
that I become Mastodon, I become the Earth,
and unleash their True Names upon them all.

Their souls dissipate back into the shadows,
and I reclaim them for my own.

I am Mastodon, I am the Earth.
>>18377865
really good anon, me encanta

[Anonymous No.18379888]

>>18379839
cringe is good
enhance on cringe
make it thy food
then post on binge
feeling all good
taste is ever morphing waste
online like a shitfaced
yeah bumming
flood of confessional escapades
fool's fire burns dirt from souls, an exorcism of sorts
'eat my shorts' 40yo women and rice? lets goooooo
>>18379635
SPITTIN da TROOF
>>18378639
>Gulp the flesh and blood of Christ
leave my man Christ alone! wtf theophagy

[Anonymous No.18380801]

>>18378985
>You like nothing
I liked the Schizobabble.

>but provide nothing constructive.
Its short feedback. But there is value to it. I did leave some short constructive criticism. Some of it was too larpy and some of it was to long. Would you like a lengthy critique of your poem? Do you want me to change it for you? What do you desire?

[Anonymous No.18380923]

>>18380801
>>18378577
You said larp to mine, please elaborate

[Anonymous No.18380945]

>>18380801
"Larp" "meh" and "to long" (all actual quotes) are just grunts and make you seem like you can't express yourself properly. Add this on top of your two shitty poems and you've certified yourself as an actual dimwit.

[Anonymous No.18380961]

>>18380923
An overuse of words such as Thou and Thy. It has a contemporary subject matter sure, but it uses out of date language. Its like you are copying the word choice of poets you read in college. Which is LARPY. You aren't writing with a quill under candlelight. Use modern language for a modern composition.

[Anonymous No.18380978]

>>18380961
Did you think it was funny

[Anonymous No.18381000]

>>18380978
Was I supposed to?
It's descriptive if anything.

[Anonymous No.18381022]

>>18381000
Yeah it's supposed to be funny

[Anonymous No.18381077]

>>18381022
Sorry.
>>18380945
>two shitty poems
Three shitty poems.
Get it right.

[Anonymous No.18381136]

>>18381077
I think I was reading the king James version when I wrote that, and was thinking using some older pronouns would add to the absurdity of the poem, I had a bunch of comic ideas about this zombie character, like the narrator asking his friends if she really liked him, and they'd assure him, she likes him for his brains, which is obviously a sort of pun. Like describing a bunch of grossness or comparing his beloved to a hurricane, was all supposed to be funny. But I'll keep in mind the impress it gave you. Actually I sent this and a few other poems into a contest about two months ago and didn't move on to the final round. Thank you for the criticism and the time. Here is another of the poems I sent into the contest

A Fond Farewell

Never been fond of farewells,
They're too bittersweet.
Anxious thoughts come to dwell
Wond'ring when next we'll meet.
I'll miss the tales you tell,
which were always so sweet,
Their magic and spells,
would conjur tears at my feet.

Well, I guess this is it.
But it is not the end!
I'll never once forget
about you dearest friend.
I know we'll meet again,
In another place & time.
What hour, I don't know when,
but goodbye, dearest friend of mine.

[Anonymous No.18381194]

>>18378316
"FOUR WALLS" xrunge every pseud comes up with that for som reason.

[Anonymous No.18382744]

Bump

[Anonymous No.18382846]

>>18375664
>>18375927
Cool words bro.
Anyway this is my poem :

Mommy Girlfriend

Tonight is tight

Cookie and milky
Huggy and mommy

While my head in your belly
Please tell me

Tell me about philosophy
About how far mankind can be
About the existence of morality

Tell me about the scientific topic
About law of motion
And why men can go erection?
Isn’t part of action-reaction?

Tell me about great story
Maybe Hemingway’s Old Man and the Sea

I know i am romantically retarded
But it is big pleasure to be loved

When both of us are coomed
It is so based
And i am feeling blessed.

- Boris Rudolf.

(Juny 4, 2021)

[Anonymous No.18382900]

What losers have been owned by candlelight,
Whose restless temper stains their putrid posts,
In sudden passions, galvanized to type,
But never reading back the things they wrote.
I dip my quill in blood, then fuck their moms;
I do not give a shit about their lives.
And if they ever leave their parents' homes,
It's likely I will fuck their ugly wives.
Their incoherent rambling I find
To be the most distasteful of displays,
Nothing could be done to save their minds;
Such simple, flaccid fancies fill their days.
If one such poster is to cross your path,
Recite this poem, carry on, and laugh.

[Anonymous No.18383207]

>>18382900
Pretty good

[Anonymous No.18383250]

>>18378020
Last stanza is the best. I found it a bit hard to reconcile the archaic language with the very short lines

[Anonymous No.18383666]

>>18377295
The ending verse is the best one

[Anonymous No.18383804]

>>18382900
awful to the extent i actually killed myself
>>18382846
not bad, i liked it
>>18381136
you'll never see her again
>>18379866
pristine, very cool
>>18379635
honorable mention
>>18378668
I like it a lot

made man
---
last night i puked off the edge of the bed and this morning i woke up and stepped in it
it was the guards raping the inmates
i love you

comfy house first thing thing in the morning
davie from the navy
davieeeeee (mustachioed former hero)

i got so lonely i ate too much and grew my own tits
i found jizz in the sink at the homeless shelter
we're selling out stadiums

god knows who killed his own brother
i always got weapons
princess bubblegum has a juicy ass

[Anonymous No.18384057]

>>18383804
>i like it a lot
Imagine replying this to your own poem. Lmfao

[Anonymous No.18384087]

>>18384057
Imagine thinking you're telepathic over the internet. I don't know you well enough to tell you to go cook spaghetti but I hope you improve.

[Anonymous No.18384099]

>>18384057
Here's something to ponder:

[Anonymous No.18384129]

>>18384057
You made me so mad I literally cancelled my own Birthday. THANKS ALOT KEVIN

[Anonymous No.18384142]

>>18384057
anyway I always sign my shit with three hyphens so go fuck yourself

[Anonymous No.18384709]

>>18381136
The vocabulary is too basic. Diction is important in poetry.

[Anonymous No.18384922]

>>18379888
check my own trips because no one would
tell me self rhymes since I'm made of wood
g strings or whatever strings comings from my limbs
fallen jaw skull head silence of that scream
lost continent of honest childhood's dreams
how it fades? what's the first step
of corruptive aids?
I say poetry good because it's useless
dump of broken monitors crt computers
perhaps such view can make one sober
I would argue that Shrek is defamation of ogres
in the swamp dump faith of dreamlike chosen
as the dude above lamented 'how can you ..
direct this mess and babytalk'
brain dead perhaps steps of Great Work
whatever that could mean. just a nice word
I swerve for anime must become real boi

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18384938]

Wrote a short story, figured I’d shill it here as well, two of the poems are very slightly modified, one an old song to hern the hunter, the other an old folk song to robin goodfellow, I hope the whole story has poetic value.

https://pastebin.com/hTVwUKgU

[Anonymous No.18385185]

>>18384938
less ugly and more consistent than ur other ones. has the same soul to soulless ratio as the world. almost none. barely a backbone. parts of it would be elevated if taken out of context like the
>“What’s here?"...
>ho ho ho...
parts

the more i care, the more im depressed.
>>18383804
interesting but no more or less than ur other ones. needs slighlty more of a narrative spine. otherwise its a disservice to the good scenes and lines
>>18382900
delightful. the most skillful in thread never fails to be the ironic metapoem. sad
>>18382846
>romantically retarded
if youll excuse me im gonna save this and burn the rest like the flamethrower do a xenomorph (not an alien from alien, but the aliens from aliens. or the arcade game. bugs, im trying to say bugs)
>>18381136
tiny skirmishes with the flow. the bittersweetary is nice. but the key to even more of it is brevity. so could be shorter
>>18378589
started of good. pretty conventional stream of consciousness.
>swallowed by other streets
>other walls
no other would make it better
>emptiness
>desire
bad poem words
>>18378577
yea definitely improved. line count and syllable symmetry is appreciated. you can say it hurts rather than and it hurts to make it fully symmetrical
>>18377347
nice
>tomato and garlic are my weapons
better without "are"
>i reckin this pot needs a wreckin
really nice

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18385274]

>>18385185
I often hear these terms soul and soulless, especially recently here, so let me ask and I would not mind a rant, what do you mean by soul/soulless? What are they and what is the most soulful thing you can think of in fiction, what is the most soulless?

[Anonymous No.18385292]

>>18385274
the most soulless thing i can think of from fiction is you getting laid.

[Anonymous No.18385307]

>>18385274
>the most soulless
pretention. that comes from (subjectively unlawful) transgression of inner blockages. fear kills soul. implicit judgementality of those afraid, they spoil air by oozing disharmony.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18385454]

>>18385292
I’m married so that doesn’t work. Come up with a more substantial insult.

>>18385307
Give the most soulful work you can think of.

[Anonymous No.18385516]

>>18385454
>Give the most soulful work you can think of.
that would be too personal, i.e. soulful. (that's the idea behind irony (in a good way; I know about oversaturation with it) and distance: soul is a private matter and should not be made public. when it is made public it is, in a way, a sacrilege.) still, the most soulful work.. from the internet canon, I'd say MC Ride screaming.avi is soulful. 'how can man enjoy what he doesn't feel' etc. it is brutally honest.
a side thought: 'soulful' is a bad concept as it is very close to a value judgement, i.e. 'it resonates with me'. on the same scale but more detailed would be to mark things as truthful/pretentious.

[Anonymous No.18385528]

>>18385274
im >>18385185
its a meme at this point but it still points to a lack of creative spark, a playful joy, resonance or emotional impact on your part.
>>18385454
>give the most soulful work you can think of.
the tiger poem comes to mind

[Anonymous No.18385538]

>>18385454
alright I got one poem:
>North
>by SEAMUS HEANEY
I returned to a long strand,
the hammered curve of a bay,
and found only the secular
powers of the Atlantic thundering.

I faced the unmagical
invitations of Iceland,
the pathetic colonies
of Greenland, and suddenly

those fabulous raiders,
those lying in Orkney and Dublin
measured against
their long swords rusting,

those in the solid
belly of stone ships,
those hacked and glinting
in the gravel of thawed streams

were ocean-deafened voices
warning me, lifted again
in violence and epiphany.
The longship’s swimming tongue

was buoyant with hindsight—
it said Thor’s hammer swung
to geography and trade,
thick-witted couplings and revenges,

the hatreds and behind-backs
of the althing, lies and women,
exhaustions nominated peace,
memory incubating the spilled blood.

It said, ‘Lie down
in the word-hoard, burrow
the coil and gleam
of your furrowed brain.

Compose in darkness.
Expect aurora borealis
in the long foray
but no cascade of light.

Keep your eye clear
as the bleb of the icicle,
trust the feel of what nubbed treasure
your hands have known.’
>>18385516

[Anonymous No.18385549]

>>18385454
alright I got one poem (especially the stanza):
>North
>by SEAMUS HEANEY
I returned to a long strand,
the hammered curve of a bay,
and found only the secular
powers of the Atlantic thundering.

I faced the unmagical
invitations of Iceland,
the pathetic colonies
of Greenland, and suddenly

those fabulous raiders,
those lying in Orkney and Dublin
measured against
their long swords rusting,

those in the solid
belly of stone ships,
those hacked and glinting
in the gravel of thawed streams

were ocean-deafened voices
warning me, lifted again
in violence and epiphany.
The longship’s swimming tongue

was buoyant with hindsight—
it said Thor’s hammer swung
to geography and trade,
thick-witted couplings and revenges,

the hatreds and behind-backs
of the althing, lies and women,
exhaustions nominated peace,
memory incubating the spilled blood.

It said, ‘Lie down
in the word-hoard, burrow
the coil and gleam
of your furrowed brain.

Compose in darkness.
Expect aurora borealis
in the long foray
but no cascade of light.

Keep your eye clear
as the bleb of the icicle,
trust the feel of what nubbed treasure
your hands have known.’
>>18385516

[Anonymous No.18385552]

>>18385454
maybe if you had a more substantial member, i wouldn't have to please your wife in your stead, fucktard.

[Anonymous No.18385567]

>>18385549
>especially the last stanza

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18385622]

>>18385516
The only things that come to mind with this is either sentimentality or “authenticity” honestly, perhaps pretentious means here the illusion isn’t particularly strong.

>>18385528
I think these are all very different things though, joy and relating are two particular aims, emotional impact another aim, creativity another question. I don’t really see the underlying harmony behind these.

>>18385549
Yeah this does nothing special for me, I like poetry with a nautical aspect, love the aesthetic of cold and ice, quite a fan of the Eddas even, but all I perceive in the poem is atoms, parts which harmonize into a whole, I don’t see anything in this which couldn’t be isolated into discrete elements.


>>18385552
16 minutes late, wasn’t witty enough.

>>18385567
How come?

[Anonymous No.18385633]

>>18385622
>16 minutes late, wasn’t witty enough.
sorry i was busy fucking your wife.

[Anonymous No.18385658]

>>18385622
>I think these are all very different things though, joy and relating are two particular aims, emotional impact another aim, creativity another question. I don’t really see the underlying harmony behind these.
id be inclined to agree. i guess i meant it lacked all of those. like its gotta have at least one.

[Anonymous No.18385682]

>>18385622
>How come?
cannot remember the exact words, Geoffrey Hill said (or perhaps he was quoting another poet) that poetry is about creating that surplus reality. That which has not been there and now is. vague, yes. but certainly in the correct direction.
>I don’t see anything in this which couldn’t be isolated into discrete elements.
and that is why matters of soul (and aesthetic) should never be discussed in public. I feel almost offended! jej.
>I hope the whole story has poetic value.
to redirect your question: how do you understand poetic value? what is Poetry?

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18385837]

>>18385682
>to redirect your question: how do you understand poetic value? what is Poetry?

Poetry is the manipulation of form of prose in order that the form and content blend into a whole, this is chiefly done by control over sound, mastery over word usage down to consideration of singular syllables in relation to the whole.

“Poetic” is just another term for the beautiful but expressed through these harmonies in prose, beauty in fiction, the aesthetic experience in any art, is to me the creation of a well-crafted illusion, this illusion works primarily by obscuring the foreground of the medium (the canvas and paint in painting, the words/letters in prose/poetry, particular instruments in a song, etc.) and giving access to a background construct of ideas, harmonized, which are unfolded and revealed by the aesthetic illusion, these background ideas may be of three types and strike at people in three ways.

1=Low art, which operates by an experience of rapid movement, energy, excitement, this is the artistic value sought out by big movies like fast and furious, a flash of light before the eyes.

2=mid-art, art which moves a person emotionally for a moment, causing him to feel something, be it sadness, anger, happiness, even boredom if this is so desired.

3=high-Art, which operates by moving a person towards introspection, a movement within the concept of self and of the world, a movement in which the idea-core of the aesthetic is fully integrated into the consumer of the piece of art and thus causes in him a change whether good or bad.

These may be sought after principally by two means, the sentimental-abstract style, which seeks to overwhelm you with feelings and directly with pathos but not with refinement nor artifice, Dostoevsky is a master of this style, since he uses these to operate on the third level of Art, on the other side, there is the purely emotionless and concrete art, which is filled to the brim with control and strives to strike at you through a very refined presentation, this can be either concrete or delirious-phantasmagoric in nature.

Delirious phantasmagoria in the emotionless style is the style I wish to write in, masters of it off the top of my head would be Blackwood, Dunsany, Nerval, Huysmans and Baudelaire.

I am of the belief as were the decadents that sincerity and sentimentality are a poison towards the goal of the prose style we wish to produce.

But that’s my belief concerning it, what is yours?

[Anonymous No.18386278]

>>18385837
why does this happen everytime? is there not a thing that doesnt repeat in the samsara??

WILL THE CIRCLE
PLEASE BE BROKEN
BY AND BY OH
BY AND BY

IS A BETTER
HOME AWAITIN
IN THE SKY LORD
IN THE SKY

[Anonymous No.18386626]

>>18385633
lol
>>18385549
generic reaction
>>18385454
namefag rate me
>>18385185
you're a disservice to my ass
>>18384922
medium
>>18382846
still my favorite

[laughs in ancient lamentation]
---
fate's clever
god hates anyone trying to be him
i said god hates a liar and he punishes drunks
mistreat me with the power of crooked foresight
be careful what you wish for
deals with the devil are still satanic

take your most treasured thing
i know you fags on /lit/ can barely read but let's go
halfya gotya heads so far up ur own ass ur sucking d*ck from the inside out, talking bout suicide and shit
let's go
take your most treasured thing and place it on the table
god hates a coward

come here to a place you don't wanna see
step into hell and find yourself with me
find yourself dead on the doorstep and chant
god hates a coward and stand up, bud, you're free
post post post post modern bitch stand up straight
excelcius deus god hates a bitch stand up straight man

deserve to be. slay dragons
be beautiful and strong and handsome and worthy. fight for the good
cast out demons and fuck big titties. live up to those who died before you
lay waste to the cities. defend your home. live in peace. be humble
let them know who you are before they meet you. plant new life into the ground, carry peace
make everything in accordance to its nature and be glad in the world god gave you

[Anonymous No.18386777]

>>18375944
I liked the version you posted in the last thread more

To guess it’s
a sidewalk raceway
the folding maze
on a single slab
unending
painted by the broad
shouldered man
down that way
where they say
not to say anything

[Anonymous No.18386783]

>>18375664
No class
Curry ass
Cunt

Sorry
To be
Blunt

[Bustelo No.18387066]

Entry 6/4/2020:
I've had a rough day friends, hope you're all doing well and you find things to be thankful for in life despite the hardest of times. Perspective is one of the strongest tools at your disposal, and I challenge you to challenge your own perspective in your day to day life to grow deeper understanding. Much love to the strangers in this thread, today we're closer than we'll ever be, just getting to know eachother, or long lost friends; however you look there's still something to be thankful for being here today :))
keep on lurkin brothers.


When the going gets tough
and you've said a lot of stuff
wish we could go back
to when it was enough

The sound of sorrow sucks
it's got me in a muck
second chances come and go
but true love just takes luck

Just got my ducks a row
I live to learn, to know
and when you live your truest self
your memories shall show.

[Anonymous No.18387258]

>>18387066
I like your poem.

[Anonymous No.18387319]

>>18375664
>this

The pedos
In power
Put the pasts
Pederasts
On pedestals

>or this

The pedos
In power

Put
The pasts

Pederasts

On pedestals

>which is better? Or do they both suck. If so how do I improve them.

[Anonymous No.18387376]

>>18386777
They are the same afaik!

[Anonymous No.18387397]

>>18385837
Can you give examples for mid and high art too?
Also don't you think that introspection depends on the consoomer and not on this art piece itself? Like sometimes I keep staring at walls and I do find new dimensions and beauty in it. I do the same whenever I hear a dialog of some gimmicky movie.

[Anonymous No.18387748]

I Remember Paper Dinosaurs
---
insanity feels like god and the world's cruel
hell in a little sticker heaven on a stick
waves, home, safety, jesus fuck i hate it

nothing's better than nothing
did you set up a cross for us to listen
did you burn something orange on the horizon

did you - sorry i'm stupid
there's never enough
did you drown in the bathtub on purpose

if grass grows on your grave
and i place a mental flower
maybe together we can come up with a reason

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.18388688]

>>18386626
You need to concentrate, you want to be Bukowski but you’re too (weakly) ironic, you want to be matter of fact but you also sound like a half-attempt at rap. You need to focus on what it is that you are trying to do and what is the affect your work will produce on people, for this reason it is not an energetic chaos you produce, not a beautiful aesthetic harmony, just a soap that a person will forget immediately.

>>18387397
>Can you give examples for mid and high art too?

Mid-tier Art can be found in any overly sentimental emotional focus movie, think chick flicks or like a documentary about 9/11, think any tear-jerker, something like the show “the night of” is nothing but low and mid art attempts, if you want high art, Goethe’s work is mostly high Art, Dante is high Art, sadly much of the bad longer works on here and by pseud types attempt to be the third, do not be confused, I am not against the low or medium art they just work in different ways and a common post modern attempt is to fuse low tier schlock/pulpy action with deeper high art themes.

>Also don't you think that introspection depends on the consoomer and not on this art piece itself?

I agree with Wagner that good art, good high art, does not require intellectualization or effort by the consumer in order to enjoy and be moved by it, of course introspection can extract meaning and depth from anything, it is what makes a great high artist a great artist, that he can melt and move and raise up the average person without them needing to be forced, that the impressions, implications, images and rhetoric they use forces the normal person to be moved rhetorically, as if by propaganda, to be moved inside of their own self and their self understanding is changed, their view of the world, changed.

Something like the works of Melville is another excellent example of proper high Art.

>Like sometimes I keep staring at walls and I do find new dimensions and beauty in it.

>I do the same whenever I hear a dialog of some gimmicky movie.


The glory of God and his intellect fills the heaven and the earth, man can create and locate meaning and reason from anything, this is the virtue and nobility of man to do this, art however, does not require this effort on your part, it simply requires you observe and pay attention.

Of course there are exceptions, some art is designed that it wants you to intellectualize it, some wants you to do a puzzle; but those are exceptions to the rule and not the Norm.

My personal art isn’t really for the consumption of others, so for me it’s exploring my own aspects and mental zones, I post it for technical refinement, that kind of details ya know. So I totally understand if it comes off soulless or non-relatable, but there is a further division between art made as a spiritual contemplative practice and the normative art.

[Anonymous No.18389122]

>>18388688
thanks frater
>You need to concetra
I'll do my best. bless

[Anonymous No.18389182]

>>18375710
Based

[Anonymous No.18389400]

>>18375664
Piss and shit and cum and something about being lonely.

[Anonymous No.18389471]

anyone figure out what this poem is yet
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P-4uZVyczaM

[Anonymous No.18389523]

>>18387748
It’s a good poem, it needs revision. You got some good lines “did you burn something orange in the horizon” “if grass grows....”


Will Want More

I like your tongue on my nuts
How they travel down to my asshole
While you jerk me off umm don’t stop
Your fresh tongue on my steaming hole
Swirling the thin hairs that I have
In your eyes I know you will want more!

Oh I like my dick in the warm pocket that’s your pussy,
In, out, in, out, sliding in your creamy flesh
Fuck it turns me on so much when u whisper “use me”
So I fuck your dirty ass so tight and smeared with shit
Then kneel u down like the little whore u are,
And fuck ur face and ur teary eyes and runny makeup
I know I will want more!

[Anonymous No.18389533]

>>18389471
Dude is a prof of poetry

[Anonymous No.18389655]

>>18378668
lot money via crypto huh?

[Anonymous No.18389669]

>>18389523
not even good as a joke. awful in every way imaginable.

[Anonymous No.18389672]

>>18387066
Wow. Deep. You should write for Hallmark. You could become their CEO with this level of talent.

[Anonymous No.18389696]

southpaw
---
In York I heard of a rebellion
The colonies got mad
Dandy Jack came over
We had tea and pudding
God, man, I dressed up as a woman
Who smells gunpowder
In York I loved the countryside
God bless the King
The French were fucking around as usual
My son died in a war
Got some good tea today
Declaration of nothing
I grew cabbage in the garden
I make turtle soup
Come by, we're writing tales
London is alive and well

I threw tea in the water
Nothing's right about it
Killed the Indians now we murder you
Manifest destiny, money wins me
We're the tower of babel
Imposing sodom and gomorrah
State sponsored castration
Your auto warranty has expi-
Find peace in the madness
Do nothing except gratitude
Thank God for the world he gave you
Be simple and dutiful
There's nothing worse than a left hand punch
Beautifully, the sun sets
Find peace in the moment
Find me right here

Heard God dressed up in a top hat and came down to fuck ya
Heard the world's mad with envy
Heard the earth quake
Come on, test me, I heard the jew break
Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?
Southpaw, I stood up and took your punch straight
Violence and gore has no quarter here
Believe me when I say I'm looking for peace
Sell your books and don't respond
Creep out the neighbors
Be still in the madness that's around you
Don't ever tell me you loved her again
I still love you Dad I'm just pissed about it
I want you to be proud of me like I'm uh ya
I hate what happened. Can't forget
Check your cash and blood's running out the ATM

The hills roll
People people
Tea's on the kettle
It's a fine day in paradise
Making pot stew for dinner
The Brubakers are gettin married
"Almost as old as I am" we're comfy now
Here, lad, put this on the fire
Tilling the ground, the dirt smells nice
Fresh herbs and spice
"Here Mr Frodo, I saved it for the Shire back ho-"
I won't be sad
You can break me down but God's got my back
Mango trees
Fresh basil
Sitting by the fire with my friends and family, heaven beside me
>>18389523
>if grass grows...
Thanks man

[Anonymous No.18389897]

How long in here?
Heavy feet weigh me down
My hands like walls
How to stand on my own again?
I must crawl so I may walk
You disgust me anon
To stay here by choice
Like me
Were that I could sink my teeth in you
I should chew your flesh from bone and never swallow
I should leave a mess where a man was
Like me
A taste long forgotten
How many years?
A better time?
Never was.
Expressionless analysis paralysis
Same as it ever was.
Like me.
A taste on your tongue
A better time?
Never was.
Like me.
Illusory fondness, a past unpassed.
Still living in before
But now, the passed stretched past you
Like me
Where am I in time?
Now? Never was.
Like me
My reflection is not me
It cannot be it cannot be it cannot be
like me.
Why appeal to him, green anonymous
He is like you?
Yes. Like me.
Caught in the beforetime stretching to aftertime
An echo of time
Like me.
So much, he desires.
A slave
Like me
Born to slaves, born to slave
Like me
I disgust you anonymous.
Like me.
Why stay here anonymous?
Like me.
Aren't you a slave?
Like me.
If not, why not be free?
Like me.
The future is not made
Like me
It is already past
Like me
If it has grasped you
Like me
Let go
Like me
Why worry?
Like me
You already know what it holds.
Like me
Oblivion.
Unlike me.
A hand unlike a wall anonymous
Perhaps untrapped by weighted feet
Can you walk anonymous?
Like me
Then why remain?
Like me
So caught in the past anonymous
Like me
Do you want all your life to be past?
Like me
Are you not already anonymous?
Like me.
You don't have to be
Like me
I know I am not. I am anonymous.
unlike me
New
like me
unlike me
new me
never was
now is
sublimity, me.
My hands like walls enclose the future
My weighted feet press on its neck
I will chew its flesh from bone and savor
I will never swallow
I will leave a mess where past once was
Care to be like me?

[Anonymous No.18390166]

>>18388688
Thanks for replying.

>My personal art isn’t really for the consumption of others, so for me it’s exploring my own aspects and mental zones
Can you elaborate on this a little bit?

[Anonymous No.18390265]

>>18388688
>further division between art made as a spiritual contemplative practice and the normative art.
true. However those divisions of high/low is itself a very normative notion. (next thing you get schooled on what should and should not be, what appropriate) how about this statement: there is only my and not my Art, not high and low. high is what I refine my self into, low is what I was before: crude lame unrefined. contemplation of soul. think how redeeming that it: different redeemed by difference on the quest of further opening. of the talent, understanding.

>But that’s my belief concerning it, what is yours?
to me, beliefs
Nature and refinement
even Mystery
even this thread is a mirror of a larger world
a cup. and if you contemplate something small
it will show every shitpost is a personified signature
'L is real' someone would say. and I would not disagree
'An Open Entrance to the Closed Palace of the King'
energy of the name. of that phrase. that reverberation in air,
is it not Poetry?

[Anonymous No.18390551]

>>18389533
you mean literally?
any of his other poems?

[Anonymous No.18391285]

bump

[Anonymous No.18392181]

Bump

[Anonymous No.18392690]

>>18375664
YES

The tiger is out

[Anonymous No.18392802]

>>18389655
I wish.

[Anonymous No.18393552]

she just wanted to mean something
---
Battle battle battle Battle battle battle Battlebattle fight
Battle battle battle Fight BATTLE FIGHT battle battle
battle battle battle battle battle battle ba-
"I'd like to take this time to express my gratitude.
I'd like to present to you this lovely couple and... fu-
Anyway, God bless America and love you all!"

I'm moving to LA.
bah-dump. bahhhh-dum. battle battle elttab BATTLE
mix FIGHT battle battle Battle battle battle better
SAFE crackers HOMEstead. Practicing at nothing now
It costs five dollars to finish alone
battle battle battle battle battle

[Anonymous No.18393581]

>>18390551
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wSEZmXxxTY4

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fkcjT2dcGRQ

[Anonymous No.18393773]

>>18383804
>pristine, very cool
thanks anon! I quite like yours, though it seems low effort atm, needs more development of concepts etc