/lit/ - Literature

[Tuan Jim !Y6d4OyAkDM No.1963234]

Try typing your favorite pieces of poems or longer quotes from memory.
Here's mine. Stanza from Auden's Sept 1 1939, but I fucked up halfway through

All I have is a voice
to undo the folded lie.
the romanticism lies in the brain
and the lie of authority
whose buildings grope the sky
something something something
blah blah blah
negation and despair,
show your affirming flame

>hfw I fuck up his badass poetry...

[Anonymous No.1963285]

o wild west wind thou breath of autumn's being thou from whose unseen presence the leaves dead are driven like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing yellow and black and pale and hectic red pestilence stricken multitudes o thou who chariotest to their dark wintry bed the winged seeds where they lie cold and low each as a corpse within its grave until thine azure sister of the spring shall blow her clarion o'er the dreaming earth and fill (driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air) with living hues and odours plain and hill---wild spirit which art moving everywhere, destroyer and preserver, hear o hear!

You want the next 4 stanzas? I think I can still do them all.

[Behemoth !!Twl3DmqEY/B No.1963316]

as freedom is a breakfastfood
or truth can live with right and wrong
or molehills are from mountains made
long enough and just so long
will being pay the rent of seem
and genius please the talentgang
and water most encourage flame

as hatracks into peachtrees grow
or hopes dance best on bald men's hair
and ever finger is a toe
and any courage is a fear
long enough and just so long
will the impure think all things pure
and hornets wail by children stung

or as the seeing are the blind
and robins never welcome spring
nor flatfolk prove their world is round
nor dingsters die at break of dong
and common's rare and millstones float
long enough and just so long
tomorrow will not be too late

worms are the words but joy's the voice
down shall go which and up come who
breasts will be breasts thighs will be thighs
deeds cannot dream what dreams can do
time is a tree(this life one leaf)
but love is the sky and i am for you
just so long and long enough

[Behemoth !!Twl3DmqEY/B No.1963326]

Today we have naming of parts. Yesterday,
We had daily cleaning. And tomorrow morning,
We shall have what to do after firing. But today,
Today we have naming of parts. Japonica
Glistens like coral in all the neighboring gardens,
And today we have naming of parts.

This is the lower sling swivel. And this
Is the upper sling swivel, whose use you will see,
When you are given your slings. And this is the piling swivel,
Which in your case you have not got. The branches
Hold in the gardens their silent, eloquent gestures,
Which in our case we have not got.

This is the safety-catch, which is always released
With an easy flick of the thumb. And please do not let me
See anyone using his finger. You can do it quite easy
If you have any strength in your thumb. The blossoms
Are fragile and motionless, never letting anyone see
Any of them using their finger..

And this you can see is the bolt The purpose of this
Is to open the breech, as you see. We can slide it
Rapidly backwards and forwards: we call this
Easing the spring. And rapidly backwards and forwards
The early bees are assaulting and fumbling the flowers:
They call it easing the Spring.

They call it easing the Spring: it is perfectly easy
If you have any strength in your thumb: like the bolt,
And the breech, and the cocking-piece, and the point of balance,
Which in our case we have not got; and the almond-blossom
Silent in all of the gardens the bees going backwards and forwards,
For today we have naming of parts.

[Behemoth !!Twl3DmqEY/B No.1963333]

From my mother's sleep I fell into the State,
and I hunched in its belly til my wet fur froze.
Six miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life,
I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.
When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.

[Anonymous No.1963366]

>>1963333

Randall Jarrell is smiling in heaven.

[Anonymous No.1964121]

err....

Les sanglots longs des violons de l'automne
Blessent mon cœur de leur langueur monotone

....

I'm not a poetry guy

[Anonymous No.1964136]

blood shaking my heart
the awful daring
of a moment's surrender
which an age of prudence
can never retract
by this and this alone
have we lived

------

and then went down to the ship
set keel to breakers, forth on the godly sea, and
we set up mast and sail on that swart ship,
bore sheep aboard her, and our bodies also
heavy with weeping, and winds from sternward
bore us out onward with bellying canvas,
Circe's this craft, the trim-coifed goddess.

--------

i don't have much else comitted to memory which feels kinda sad actually...

[Anonymous No.1964140]

>>1964136

sad because you're an entry level modernist hipster faggot douche?

[Anonymous No.1964549]

Off the top of my head, OP:

Come to me in dreams and then
One saith, I shall be well again
For then the night will more than pay
The hopeless longing of the day

Nay come not thou in dreams my sweet
In shadowy robes and silent feet
And with the voice, and with the eyes
That greet me in a soft surprise

Last night, last night in dreams we met
And how today, shall I forget
Or how remembering, restrain
Mine incommunicable pain

Nay where thy land and people are
Dwell thou remote, apart, afar
Nor mingle with the shapes that sweep
The melancholy ways of sleep

But if, perchance, the shadows break
If dreams depart, and men awake
If face to face at length we see
Be thine the voice to welcome me

[Anonymous No.1964550]

thats fucking walter mathou!

[Anonymous No.1964552]

[Anonymous No.1964667]

where the fuck do you think you are going mathau? Get back here and finish your photo shoot

[Ted, a high school senior No.1964771]

Twas brillig and the slighty toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe
All mimsy were the borogroves
and the mome raths outgrabe

Beware the Jabberwock, my son
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch
Beware the Jub-Jub bird, and shun
The Frumious Bandersnatch

He took his vorpal sword in hand
Longtime the manxome foe he sought
So rested he by the Tumtum tree
And stood a while in thought

[Ted, a high school senior !!FLVqQBEAMuY No.1964777]

Twas brillig and the slighty toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe
All mimsy were the borogroves
and the mome raths outgrabe

Beware the Jabberwock, my son
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch
Beware the Jub-Jub bird, and shun
The Frumious Bandersnatch

He took his vorpal sword in hand
Longtime the manxome foe he sought
So rested he by the Tumtum tree
And stood a while in thought

And as in uffish thought he stood
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame
Came whiffling through the tulgy wood
And burbled as it came

One two, one two, and through, and through
The vorpal blade went snickersnatch
He left it dead and with its head
He went galloping back

And has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy
O, frabious day, calooh callay
He churtled in his joy

Twas brillig and the slighty toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe
All mimsy were the borogroves
and the mome raths outgrabe

Probably made a lot of spelling mistakes since half of the vocabulary is made up. It has also been over year since I last read the poem.

[Anonymous No.1964778]

>>1964771
matthau approves

[Anonymous No.1964781]

Black milk of daybreak we drink you in the morning we drink you in the evening we drink you all day
We drink and we shovel a grave in the sky there you will not lie too cramped
A man lives in his house he plays with his serpents and he writes when it grows dark in Deustchland to his golden haired Margaret
He steps out the whistles for his hounds to come close and he whistles for his jews to dance and dig a grave in ground

That's the first stanza.

[Anonymous No.1964786]

>>1964781
PAUL CELAN UP IN THIS MOTHERFUCKER!

no one molds us again from earth and clay
no one conjures our dust
praised be your name, no one
it is for you we flower-forth,
the nothing, the neimandsrose-
with our pistil soul-bright
and our stamen heaven-ravaged:
the some we sang, over, o
over: the
thorn

[Anonymous No.1964798]

once upon a midnight dreary, while I wondered, weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door

somethign something something

and the silken sad uncertain rustling of that purple curtain thrilled me, filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before

then, methought, the air grew denser
perfumed by some unseen cencer
swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor

'Prophet!' said I 'thing of evil! prophet still, if bird or devil!
something something
if within a distant aidan, it shall clasp a sainted maiden
something somethign called Lenore
Quoth the Raven - Nevermore

and the raven never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
on that pallid bust of pallas just above my chamber door
and his eyes have all the seeming of a demons that is dreaming
and the lamplight o'er him streaming throws my shadow on the floor
and my soul from out that shadow shall be lifted -- Nevermore!

I used to be able to bang out 18 near perfect stanzas of this thing

[Anonymous No.1964804]

schwarze milch der fruehe wir trinken sie abends wir trinken sie mittags und morgens wir trinken sie nachts wir trinken und trinken wir schaufeln ein grab in den luften da liegt man nicht eng ein mann wohnt im haus der spielt mit den schlangen der schreibt der schreibt wenn es dunkelt nach Deutschland dein goldenes haar Margarate er schreibt es und tritt vor das haus und es blitzen die sterne er pfeift seine rueden herbei er pfeift seine juden hervor laesst schaufeln ein grab in der erde er befiehlt uns spielt auf nun zum tanz


since we're already doing it

[Anonymous No.1964823]

>>1964804
I fucking love you. I'm the guy who posted the english version.

[Anonymous No.1964845]

Every time I fart, of late,
I feel the excretory juices of my feces,
squishing and squashing between by butt cheeks,
However I have no desire to wipe my own ass, anymore
a metaphor?

[Anonymous No.1964848]

>badass poetry
This is what /lit/ actually thinks.