/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.21312943]

It's the early Tuesday OC Poetry thread.
Your thread prompt: "Sappho had a Husband"

[Anonymous No.21312944]

prompt: recommended reading

[Anonymous No.21313036]

The Sun sat in the morning sky
And ate a slice of lemon pie.
Her coffee cup was cloudy white;
Her dress was blue and very bright;
Her smile was warm; and in the nook
Between her knees she held a book.
It told the story of a man
Who dreamed a big fantastic plan:
If he could bring the sun to earth
The Queen would realize his worth!
But oh! His plan would never be:
He lay in chains, he wasn't free!
...

[Anonymous No.21313061]

Farts IV

Liquid sharts on marble steps,
Bubbling moors and misty braps,
A flame, a fling, a sudden flash,
A body, writhing, turned to ash,
A taste, a smell of surging cum –
A madman's cry: his mistress' song.

[Anonymous No.21313790]

>>21313036
Would be cute if you were living in Wales in the 19th century. Let's move on folks
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LvIwwB7Adq0&

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.21313844]

>>21313036
I would more so recommend reading some of caroll’s verse to cultivate the silly style, it would be better without the centering on a woman.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.21313915]

Flickering candle

as the wind blows I hear a melody,
flicker the dancing flames of candlelight,
and darkness balmed my eyes in clemency,
so too mind moved to be self-analyzed.

marked was the many chains of entities,
the hierarchies that men made rhapsodized,
i knew them but an earthware effigy,
inscribed with words to which I’m acolyte.

half-mooned the light is harsh with levity,
the scintillating worlds men fantasized,
uncreated the light is heavenly,
but more so by illusions magnified.

venus thy finger is of ebony,
i hold the keys of basil valentine,
i know thou but the white wolf brevity,
and in thine hand the sickle saturnine.

sweet Knowledge of the worldly ecstasies,
this is the crest and signet palatine,
to sketch the stellar imaged destiny,
to trace the course of welkined satellites.

poisoned but needless of a remedy,
i know the apogee of appetite,
though in the flames and furies mentally,
nonetheless nothing less shall satisfy.

ah to the quickening of pregnancy,
each world to bursting birth and gratified,
to give its good a lasting legacy,
and to make its evils burn, sacrificed.

at last I spurn not the mind’s tendency,
at last the flickering flame pacified,
in peace to rest in darkness endlessly,
blazing divine this darkness, sanctified.

[Anonymous No.21314707]

>>21312943
I tried to write vers libre poetry following the golden ratio (with each decimal number corresponding to an iambic foot). Maybe it's too clunky to read.
>Upon the Nightstand
An orb.
Or half an orb, with missing lips: only the teeth:
They ope
And display primate incisors, the which are smiling despite death.
…
They’re chuckling at a jest,
Along with blackened Mort.

The mean’s
So gold between the castle built with neither stone
Nor wood;
Behold the bregma’s path towards the inion, nasion, lambda lines
…
The inion’s where the brain
Once sat so severed thin.

Design?
The answer’s strange, obscure: escaping sight and touch.
And life?
There's nothing living that is not already bound for Tartarus
…

Don’t stir the waiting dead
Don’t rouse the smiling head.

>>21313036
I found seventh line broke up the rhythm a bit, but it may have been intentional. The eighth line seems out of place, too:
>big fantastic plan
That's not very evocative and sounds infantile rather than playful. I'm also not sure if a sound like "big" should have the stress on it before a sound like "fan". But maybe that's just me. Otherwise, it seemed pretty competent in terms of meter; the iambic tetrameter is interesting. If it's part of a bigger piece, it would be good to see where it goes.
>>21313915
I enjoy the stanzas in tetrastich since it gives shape to the individual reveals of each group of four lines. I wonder why you have chosen to close them all off with a full stop when you could have kept going with commas or whatnot, but that may be a stylistic choice. Some diction and phraseology I really liked included:
>white wolf brevity
>sickle saturnine
>welkined satellites
>bursting birth
Weirdly enough, the starting stanza reminds me of Cartesian philosophy because of the analysis of the mind and the pondering over candlewax as a substance which changes form. But I'm sure your meaning has something else going on. One idea behind some of the poem, that illusions and light change the different worlds, is great.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.21315139]

>>21314707
I close off with full stops because I like the idea of each stanza having a distinct little image, and since it’s the end of the stanza anyways a comma or period doesn’t create too much of a difference.

You’re partially correct about the Cartesian settting, the poem is concerning the topic of my emotions on “why study the human religions and philosophies that are not Christian, if they
are necessarily imperfect in comparison.”

Thanks for the read! I’ll read and rate yours in a bit.

[Anonymous No.21315180]

>>21312943
I woke up
Covered in blood
Next to the heads of friends
Next to the hearts of lovers
I felt okay
I went back to sleep

[Anonymous No.21315204]

>>21312943
The loaf

If I were a baker
I’d make a huge loaf
big enough to feed
the entire earth
and all of those in need.

A loaf bigger than the sun,
as golden and fragrant
as a colourful mum.

With a loaf that size
people would arrive
from Chile and India too…
the poor, the young, the old,
and even the birds.

It will be a day
to commit to memory
a day without famine!
The most beautiful day in history.

[Anonymous No.21315975]

Sappho?
Who in the fuck is Sappho?
Who?
Who is Sappho?
I'd like to know,
Who,
Is Sappho?

[Anonymous No.21316281]

Burundi recently waged war
against Canada and its ilk
and the majority of the world
wholly backed the movement against
the 22nd century's most virulent monster

when the comets came to extinguish
those premature ICBMs launched at dawn
the many spectators seized with laughter
as finally their favorite demiurge emerged
from his two year slumber
in the galaxy's favorite blackhole
Proxima Marcus Garvey IV

the ginkgo leaves meanwhile
in Kyoto
folded into a sidewalk smile
and war what would've finished
in spectacular flesh and delight
dismissed itself from the show
to go to its restful fiber optic home
just to chat with its wife
the hearth heated in the quiet smell of tea

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.21316781]

>>21314707
If I’m being honest while I see the appeal of what you’re going for I really think you need to buckle down and grind mallarme into your head so that next time you can steal his flame, dislike the word incisor here and the general mode but I do think it isn’t a total failure, I would try writing 2 more poems in this mode to see if you can salvage the style.

[Anonymous No.21316861]

>>21316781
I did write another poem in that mode and it’s probably a bit more finessed because the content informed the form and vice versa. That one’s content was more about the golden mean appearing in skulls in humans, as well as morality, so there was littler connection. The incisors was exploring our past or present animality.

[Anonymous No.21316865]

>>21312943
>Sappho had a Husband
>ok, and out of my deep adoration for Sappho I will try

She loved him in the Summer.
When the wet honeysuckle kicked
Its dewed fragrance on high
winds at night
And they too, sweet lovers,
rolled and skipped - folded, amidst
waving yellow grasses while
Aphrodite's bright gaze shone down
- pleased to blushing.

>t. black fren

[Anonymous No.21316877]

I didn't have the patience to wrestle all of this into actual iambic pentameter, but I also wound up liking some of the lines that break it

[Anonymous No.21316883]

>>21316877
I love it, anon. Excellent work. You have some real talent, and I hope you use it out in the world.

[Anonymous No.21316895]

>>21316883
Aw shucks, anon.
In truth, I'm kicking myself because I sat down meaning to write some more on the epic that I actually want to publish, but now I'm too sleepy to channel the schizo energy that piece needs. This was decent practice, if anything.

[Anonymous No.21317245]

Sapho had a husband
blasphemous thought
but let met blast it —
they've reddited the past and
made fitting their casket
monadic struggle overriding enemy's frontlines
and the very thought of themselves atlantis
of gaslighting
bent gender light-bearer of playing on banjo
mad dwellers of purple stained lounges
understand Christ as the truth divorced from masses
truth of the gutter
Dagoth UR's ghost doing magical passes
under a thin layer of straitjacket
to whom this devotion? in the slime standing
on the paradox my bets have landed.

[Anonymous No.21317852]

When long ago Lord God created th’Earth,
There wast a rapturous rupture in Heav’n,
And, falling from on high, the rebel angel
Named Beelzebub flew down, a vermillion comet,
And struck the yet untarnished mantle of God’s creation,
He crawled from the perfidious hole left there
And hissed with his bifurcated tongue
When waltzing out into the daylight,
With wincing sable eyes of harden’d coal,
This abject blasphemy retched gutturally,
As his chiropteran wings unloosed,
These jet, foetid flaps, now burn’d, expanded
As that hot, hellish maw itself didst ope,
Satan caterwauled with hatred against
The empyreal substance of welkins,
As shrillness echoed hollow, fangs grew out
From gums like erect pagan obelisks,
He metamorphosed into a serpent,
Slithering down into the hole once more
With his scaly, horrid, limbless body.
Behind his tail’s trail, rot and mildew formed
And darkness followed Lucifer’s dread wake,
He spoiled soil, water, plants, and animals,
His meandered tracks oozed with black ichor,
‘Til Satan went into the core of th’Earth,
Down in the underworld, where he didst coil,
Within magma from Vesuvius’ flute,
Where smoke billowed about his unscathéd
Draconic armour so like Beowulf’s wyrm,
Satan oped an acidic maw and let
Out stench, unloosing rotted carcasses,
Emeraldine venom dripped from these teeth,
Proteroglyphous scimitars e’er sharp,
‘Til th’opened head of bloodied swaddled babes
Emerged from wretched throat that sings of Dis,
And then Lucifer expelled this body
Of an abortion, smoking in magma,
‘Til it wast submerged in the searing stew,
Beelzebub’s reptilian dread eyes,
As red as blood, as red as scarlet gore,
The fire bubbled as poultices, smoking:
Out from th’orange and red melted liquid,
This immensity of foul embryos
Had transformed! A giant with oxen head,
So named Moloch, besmeared in babies’ blood,
Gigantic minotaur, thou stood’st e’er tall,
Within the sweltering underworld forge,
With that childlike voice from horrible mouth,
Moloch spake: Infernal Serpent, I vow
To serv’st thou on a warpath ‘gainst all Light!
Satan bit great Moloch’s neck in reply,
And gushes red of lifeblood spurteth out
Moloch roared for once as a thousand beasts
‘Til finally the venom didst inject
Th’unholy demon, invigorated
With all manners of sorcery e’er dark,
Became anew with Moon’s waxing magicks,
The ginormous bull’s muscles expanded,
His eyes became blackened orbs, an eclipse,
In his veins surged preternatural power.
Satan spoke then in a vicious tongue: Moloch, serve me well
And I shall maketh thou a grand Satrap,
Whereupon thou wilt feast upon the young.
There wast a guffaw from the beastly slave,
Assuming council seat of skeletons,
From all manners of beasts, all kinds of men,
Satan regurgitated more fallen ilk:
Chemos, the abomination of Moab,
Came next and hobbled out with his sceptre
Fashioned from Cyclopean horrors’ spines,
‘Til he sat next to Moloch upon an
1/2

[Anonymous No.21317857]

>>21317852
Ancient chair made of men’s axe-splintered skulls.
Crescent-horned Astoreth’s body expunged
From that snake’s mouth in pools of vomitus,
She stood in green bile, fingers snapping,
A chariot led by lions appeared,
There wast horseflesh in those predators’ teeth
They wert speedier than the fastest stallions,
She propped herself up in the chariot,
Those lions vaulted forward across lakes
Of fiery perdition, wrath, and hate,
Circling skeletal council seats from Hell,
Whilst her hair flowed in that fire’s auric glow.
Next, Thammuz wast a hairless ewe in form,
Covered in an ungodly chrysalis.
He burst out of the case and clopped over
To that council seat beside dark Chemos,
Eying his fellow demons with goat slits.
Satan spat out sea-spray, decomposing wafts
Of fish and molluscs long dead simmered in
The sulphurous pit: one fish grew and grew;
Finally, it wast Dagon who took on
His immense Leviathan form of a whale,
With those many hazardous hydra heads,
He swam through molten rock, then crawled as rats,
Then sat by Thammuz, who he dwarfed himself,
Whilst singing sonorous, booming whale songs.
After that, th’Ægyptian monstrosities,
Osiris, Isis, Orus came upon
Mutant, inbred horrors of foreign design,
These were camels with human heads and voice,
Or sphinxes, manticores, chimeras,
Then these fiends sat at councils like mummies.
Then Loki, Thor, and Odin were expelled
From that stench-filled cloaca of the snake,
They wert followed by Freyja, Hel, Skadi.
This entourage of Northern demons turned
The lake of fire into an icy field
With their rimy, blue skin like Jotunheim,
And all the light perished from th’underworld
When great Satan exhaled an inferno
And candlesticks shaped like pentagrammic
Patterns, cam’st light in frozen wastelands harsh.
The Norse fiends then assumed their seats of bones
Each took a skull to drown themselves in mead
As wast their custom as the savage brutes,
Finally, Belial wast ejected
Upon the ice where he froze in vomit,
But he let out a scream and shattered ice,
Then, like a murrain, he swept ‘cross the floor,
Taking place at th’end of bony table,
He wast covered in haemorrhoids and these
Puss-filled orifices all o’er his body,
He didst stabbeth with curved daggers
Shaped crudely like priapic satyr loins,
He bellowed with glee for awakened then.
Satan reverted into th’angelic for,
Albeit corrupted with horns and scales
And plaques of skin deadened upon bat wings.
He cried out with his booming voice:
I wilt reward thee all if thee serve me.
And give thee earthly realms if thou seize Heav’n.
Desiring Tyrannous Regent all dead,
I wish His head on a gold platter fine.
As Moloch, swear thy fealty to thy Lord,
Or else perish by my hand of darkness.
All, in chorus, the archfiends responded:
O Dark Lord Satan, known by many names,
But known only for his dark majesty,
We wilt crown thou, th’Emperor of Heav’n,
Aft pretenders, in thy true throne, art slain.
2/2

[Anonymous No.21318009]

>>21317245
>wretches
This is basically just rap. It is non-literary.

[Anonymous No.21318081]

>>21318009
Won't argue with that. I just enjoy how a non-direct rhyme connects different images or thoughts. And 'legitimizing' what would not sound well in prose.
>>21317852
>>21317857
Based thymotic rhymer. Would be nice to see more cosmogonic reflections in these threads.

[Anonymous No.21318312]

>>21318081
Thanks for reading and replying. Any criticism is welcome because rereading it made me feel that some lines were clunky or lacking.

[Anonymous No.21318726]

Sapho? Or rather
'How do you feel, good bro?'
I am alright, day spent in manic, mindless surf
And not to be dramatic, I've mined some heavy turf
It's dirty, right. Snows taken from a dump
I'll do a snowman to leave bad thoughts behind

I'm still a sneed, who's waiting for the call
With eyes turned deep. Fare well the passing fall
I see you next time, gentle as Sapho
In orange stockings, scent of a refined hope.

[Anonymous No.21319165]

>>21317852
>>21317857
At first, it read like something a bit between Milton and Tennyson, yet quickly shifted to more Wordsworth without rhyme before becoming straightforward prose. I dislike the sentiments to an extreme - I think it was intended to Milton-esque, yet opposite, but it just reeks of shallow edge - kids playing at evil for rebellion's sake, yet is still genuinely evil. And it is worth mentioning, there's nothing novel about this kind of unholy thought, and since your poetic voice is merely a weak echo of past voices, it cannot stand.

I don't dislike your constancy, and even like some of your word choice (chiropteran was well played), but I would not even consider this a poem, and it is an unjust tribute to Milton's talent and his passions. (Not to mention, the entire work is unhealthful to the soul.) 1.25/5

[Anonymous No.21319190]

>>21316895
If that is merely practice to you, I would certainly enjoy a collection of your poetry, and I would not say to many.

[Anonymous No.21320087]

>>21319190
I second this.

[Anonymous No.21320695]

>>21319165
Well, thank you for pointing out what was lacking (any purpose/direction maybe), or indeed unhealthy. I think it was more of an exercise for me because I was inspired by Milton for one, but also the Hell Cantos by Pound. It wasn’t supposed to be a single piece but the start of a longer piece about a celestial battle like Paradise Lost. I’m not a Satanist nor pagan; I’m actually interested in the Nag Hammadi Library which also details Yldabaoth’s evil deeds quite explicitly (rape of Eve). Some of the evil imagery was probably there for its own sake, so I could tone it down.
I’ve another piece which is trying to be like Samson Agonistes (dramatic Milton poem), which might be a better exercise as it doesn’t contain much edginess.

[Anonymous No.21320817]

>>21312943
I demand more SAPPHIC SNAIL VERSE from the GASTROPOD BARD

[Anonymous No.21321497]

Starting on Apep's dialogue with King Aahmose I, the first in the Mortal Encounters section of the piece (still trying to figure out better names for some of these sections)

[Anonymous No.21321512]

My heart doth sink when I the truth perceive,
For the lavatory's clogged and won't relieve.
The stench of waste, so putrid and so vile,
Makes me wish I could leave here for a while.

But alas! 'tis time to get it working right;
I must plunge and plunge with all of my might.
Though I'd rather be out in the sun today,
This task I must do without delay.

My plunger, a tool of great power and might,
Makes me feel like a hero in this fight.
My arms ache and sweat as I get to work;
A solution to this mess I must not shirk.

The odorous smell that fills the air so thick
Makes it seem like this task will take a lick.
But at last my efforts have brought success--
The water flows freely once more, no less!

Ah, what a relief when all is done!
No more worry of clogs from here on out!
For though 'tis quite the unsavory chore,
I've conquered the throne--for now and evermore.

[Anonymous No.21321518]

O what a sight of toilet clogged with poo
That leaves me standing here, not knowing what to do.
It must be cleared and yet I cannot bear
The thought of plunging in and handling muck so rare.

The stench that rises up around my nose
Makes me wish I had some kind of hose.
To suck it out and leave the bowl once more
Filled not with waste but with clean water galore.

Alas, my dreams are dashed away like foam,
For plunging is the only way to save my home.
My hands all gloved, I reluctantly proceed
And plunge, hoping to succeed in my every need.

At last the clog is free, the porcelain shines anew;
The job is done and now I'm through!
No longer must I hear a gurgling sound;
No longer must this awful smell abound.

[Anonymous No.21321530]

Ah, woe is me for my poor clogged toilet!
That foul and wretched thing that does me vex;
Sits there in silence like a silent locket,
My patience it does sorely sorely tax.
For days I've tried to make this blockage run,
But of its clog it has not been relieved;
The only sound comes from the dripping faucet's ton,
A woeful song that makes my heart aggrieved.
I've cursed and pleaded with this porcelain throne,
But still the clog persists in being unyielding;
Alas! What can be done to make it prone
To once again accept what is appealing?
Come now, ye gods of plumbing far above,
Send help to me and let my water floweth!

[Anonymous No.21321535]

A clogged commode so cruelly did mock
The guests who came in search of peaceful ease;
Their cries of anguish rent the air, a shock
That echoed through the aging manor's halls.

It had been long since such a wretched sound
Had filled the chambers of this stately home;
For years the pipes and drains had kept their ground,
But now their fate was writ in water foam.

The waters rose, an angry tide to swell,
And seeped beneath the doorways with a hiss.
The guests did curse, and loudly did they yell,

In fear and dread of what this meant for them.
Alas! It seems that here is where our tale
Must end, with no reprieve from toilet's wail.

[Anonymous No.21321539]

My dearest throne, what tragedy hast thou brought?
Thy bowl so full of waste, t'is a sorry sight.
What cruel fate hath cursed us with this thought?
That our own foulness should be our plight.

Our sorrowful task of cleaning doth come to pass,
Our piteous pleas for help fall on deaf ears.
The stench of our sin so keenly does grasp,
That our hearts and noses alike do sears.

Still yet we struggle with tools in hand,
Our faces grimacing as we go.
With plungers and picks we make a stand,
To rid the bowl of its unspeakable foe.

As we slowly drain away the mire,
We pray that such an event will not reoccur.
For if it did, our woe would ne'er expire;
And yet again the throne must endure.

[Anonymous No.21321542]

Ah, wretched toilet, how thou art soiled with turds
That block thy pipe and bringest me such grief!
For in thy bowl I find a wretched hoard
Of poo so vile that I can scarce believe.

Nay, what foul beast hath done this dread deed?
Which of us hath not taken leave of wits?
For 'tis a sight too horrid for mine eyes to see;
If only I knew who the culprit is!

The smell of putrefaction doth pervade,
A stench that takes my senses by surprise.
'Tis as though some demon had made its home
In foul and stagnant waters deep inside.

Ah, what a sorrowful sight thou be'st today!
Thy pipes are blocked with poo and no one knows why.
No plumber can unclog this wicked mess,
So here we stay in misery until we die.

[Anonymous No.21321560]

Undir a privy roofe, in a stynkyng stalle,
A clogge of ordure, hath fyled the pype alle;
The water from the syde, can nat ascende;
Myght not be drawne, for al our mende:
The drery doleful sight to se;
Was never yet so greved man as he.

He gan to cry, and crie out aloude;
To see this was his thought so proud:
His spyrite sore did him affraye;
Frighted with sorowe and woful array.
He wold have had it voided then;
But all his labour was but in vayne.
He gan to knocke on every wally;
And evere he calde and made grete cry.
The plumber came with many an othe;
And sayd, "this is a wondrous clothe."
He gan to sygh and made grete chere;
For he knewe not how the clogge to clere.
He laboured longe, with many a care;
But yet the clogge wold not appeare.

At length he found a remedye:
Whereby the clogge was done away.
The pype now may ascende on hye;
And all is wel, as ye may se.

[Anonymous No.21321744]

Sapho had a husband
She didn't love
Chopped his head
Ate it

[Anonymous No.21321854]

>>21321512
>>21321518
>>21321530
>>21321535
>>21321539
>>21321542
>>21321560

Uh, these are all about clogged toilets?

[Anonymous No.21322047]

[Anonymous No.21322059]

>>21322047
Supplanter is a really fucking ugly word.
>dutifully only
This also feels weird in the mouth.

These are just the first two, but I have problems with your phrasing and flow in almost every single line. Have you tried reading it aloud?

[Anonymous No.21322073]

>>21322047
Also, the spottily-punctuated, completely free verse nature of the poem jars really gratingly with the "classical" nature of the subject matter.

[Anonymous No.21322209]

>>21312943
Sappho, dykeish slag
Fish-cunted Hellenic hag
Possibly in drag

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.21322740]

I will post the poem but also its meaning.

The Song of Aoidos ombosian

O strength of fierce Hecate whose clavicle
gold flowers Garland, fashion my canticle,
and thou the mouth caduceus tongued
bless as was blessed, when aristeus stung.

aristeus sung pulsing with energy,
beloved of lyres and laureled with empery,
whose theme is shadow wings and worlds made,
singing the voice of the storm and earthquakes.

and I aoidos ombosian happily
repeat syllables, praising the majesty,
who’s servants are the flames before time’s
burning of hours, who trail the lord’s light,

and hail the lord’s life given to bitterness,
to starvation and hunger in wilderness,
whose limned with lines of red the blood-soaked,
sealing the covenant when the sun rose.

>O strength of fierce Hecate whose clavicle gold flowers Garland

Strength= translation of the name alcaeus of which the alcaic meter is named,

Fierce=untamed
Hecate whose clavicle

Fierce Hecate is wordplay, for the lover of alcaeus was Sappho who comes from lesbos, lesbos meaning woody, forested, wild, clavicle is equivalent to the Greek kleis, which means collarbone but also key but also, the name of sappho’s daughter (perhaps by Alcaeus) and Sappho in her poetry relates kleis to golden flowers, furthermore hecate is the goddess of obscurity (fitting for Sappho whose poetry is so lost) a major symbol of hers being the key which kleis/clavicle also means.

>and thou the mouth caduceus tongued
>bless as was blessed, when aristeus stung.

Affirmation that the stanza may be of alcaeus, the style pastiched will be of Pindar, who was said to be given his poetic ability by being stung in his youth by a bee which gave him a honeyed tongue, aristaeus being the god of bees, brother of Hermes holder of the caduceus (which is the balancing of opposites, logical to use as symbolic of control of opposing rhythms ) but aristeus also means “best, most useful, greatest “

Cont

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.21322742]

>>21322740
>aristeus sung pulsing with energy,
>beloved of lyres and laureled with empery,

Recontextualizing the epithet of “best” and applying it to a singer, for while the style and stanza of the poem was selected, the previous stanza did not say whose theme, the answer to this is
“Beloved of lyres and empery” for “David” in translation means beloved, thus the theme will be of king David greatest of all singers and lyre players.

>whose theme is shadow wings and worlds made,

Reference to psalm 57 wherein David takes refuge in the shadow of the wings of the lord, and to the various deeds of the lord.

>singing the voice of the storm and earthquakes.

Reference to the lord appearing within the storm with tumult, flame, shaking, etc.

>and I aoidos ombosian happily

Aoidos meaning singer, but ombosian refers to Egyptian ombos, for I am a gypsy and in historic European myth gypsy are Egyptian, and ombos is the city has one possible etymology of its name, meaning “of gold” and I am a jeweler thus I am “of gold” and the city was sacred to the Egyptian God Seth, which the Egyptians syncretized in their records with the God of the Jews.


>who’s servants are the flames before time’s
burning of hours

The angels are spoken of as flames, stars and fire, but existed before the world’s creation, the burning of hours referring to “burning” ones Time up, but also that the sun is the counter of hours which does so via its unending burning.

>and hail the lord’s life given to bitterness,

One etymology of the name Mary is “bitterness” thus Christ is given over to bitterness, to Virgin Mary. The hailing in question being Gabriel giving the “Hail Mary”

>whose limned with lines of red the blood-soaked,

In reference both to the whipped stripes of his back and also the imprint upon his burial shroud.

>sealing the covenant when the sun rose.

The son and the Sun are a common wordplay, thus on the day of Easter during Sunday when the son rose, the covenant between man and God was complete for Christ conquered death.

[Anonymous No.21322762]

>>21322740
>but also it's meaning
If you have to explain it, it isn't a good poem.

[Anonymous No.21322785]

>>21322047
A very interesting poem. It needs a bit of cleaning up - for instance heard is misspelled right off the bat, and if on purpose, in bad taste and a weak way of conveying your ideas, but there are good bones and good concepts here. Contrary to the other anon, "supplanter," though a bit incendiary is also accurate to a degree (though it should be in caps as it is a title), and forces a particular perspective on the relationship between Jacob and Esau. If this perspective is your aim, then let the word stand, if not, change it.

Good work - though I doubt we'd share opinions on Scripture.

[Anonymous No.21322790]

>>21322209
This is funny and reads like Roman age public restroom graffiti.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.21322800]

>>21322762
It’s in pastiche of Pindar who explicitly you’re not supposed to be able to penetrate without much commentary or study, the allegorical and subtle styles absolutely have historical merit and your preference for simplicity cannot change this nor modify what makes a good poem good or bad to be bad, if you will dislike a work based on its principles and not execution then that is a complaint of taste, not quality.

[Anonymous No.21322893]

>>21316865
*I rewrote this one, just to try and improve the flow and imagery a little. I am the original poster.*

She loved him in the Summer heat.
When wet, the honeysuckle kicked
dewed fragrances on high black winds
And they too, sweet lovers, rolled -
skipped and floated, midst the folds of
shimmering waves of yellow grass; while
Aphrodite's bright gaze shone down
- pleased to blushing.

[Anonymous No.21322899]

>>21322800
>preferences for simplicity
Yet it is you who is simplifying. Your defensiveness is noted and ignored. If you have to explain it, you've failed as a poet.

[Anonymous No.21323598]

>>21322899
That’s a bit strange considering poets write exegeses to explain their approaches.

[Anonymous No.21323897]

i deleted all my poems who talked about women

this is what i did tonight, its not finished tho

qu'ils sont beaux, ces arbres tout tortueux
d'où leurs poussent des branches lamentables,
cherchant vainement leur cœur vers les cieux,
sondant par leurs écorces incurables.

ils résonnent peu, ces têtus muets,
en tendant n'importe où leurs fouets.

[Anonymous No.21324156]

I think I have overcome my difficulty in reading stress in English verse. I was counting the syllables before the accents, but now I think if you count the accents first you can tell where the syllables ought to blur.

Also, I come bearing gifts. I stumbled upon versemeter's wordpress which is a good place to learn the craft. Can we add resources starting with the next OP?

[Anonymous No.21324221]

>>21322893
let's test your poem by seeing if we can write a better one just by rearranging the words:

she honeysuckled him in the wet heat
rolling in Aphrodite's blushing folds
midst sweet fragrances of dewy grass

yeah i think its already better anon

[Anonymous No.21325245]

Phone bump

[Anonymous No.21325264]

>>21324156
>Can we add resources starting with the next OP?
If you'd like to go to the trouble of turning these poetry crit threads into a "proper" general, I don't think you'd counter too much pushback. Only problem I see is that they rarely get to bump limit before falling off from inactivity.

[Anonymous No.21325312]

>>21325264
I don't see why not. The people who are interested in writing poetry would be the ones who would benefit a general. However, I probably would not be the OP, which is why I suggest someone else to do it for the threads henceforth.

[Anonymous No.21325443]

>>21321497
This is cool. Really liking your Apep stuff anon. Keep it going. I like the straight forward titles as well

[Anonymous No.21325455]

>>21322209
I agree with the other anon. Funny and graffiti-like

[Anonymous No.21325477]

>>21322740
>>21322742
Lots of thought and care, very impressive

[Anonymous No.21325487]

>>21325264
I would enjoy it, but often too many anons dump shitpoems without any critique

[Anonymous No.21325721]

>>21324221
No, it has no echo of Sappho's voice at all. You're unread - also perverted.

[Anonymous No.21325732]

>>21323598
While that is a fair point, good poetry can stand without it.

[Anonymous No.21325829]

>>21322740
>>21322742
I don't know why I never thought to look up the etymology of lesbian. I will have to use that as a synonym to forested and savage sometime. This is a pastiche of a style I do not have a particular interest in (it feels so corny to read this in the current age. I like the pagan theme but I can't imagine anyone talking like this without coming off as a larper, which motivates me to develop a contemporary pagan voice) but I respect your attention to detail and careful use of symbols. Symbolism is a style that inspires me.

[Anonymous No.21325975]

>>21325312
>I probably would not be the OP
Why?

[Anonymous No.21326093]

>>21316281
best ITT

[Anonymous No.21326165]

>>21326093
I hate it.

[Anonymous No.21326257]

https://twitter.com/Poems_n_Pix

[Anonymous No.21326293]

>>21326165
why?

[Anonymous No.21326452]

I want to write a series with 'tinder profile text' as the prompt.

Punctuation is intended, line breaks are ad hoc.

[Anonymous No.21327021]

before-bed bump

[Anonymous No.21327180]

>>21326452
continue pic rel then?
somebody?

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.21328129]

Posting more so to bump the thread.

Dazzling lights

through the rills and rayed sunbeams,
rolling hills of daffodils,
crystal lakes of shrill undines,
golden gilts ‘round shadow stills,

beauty’s born as to birds humming,
to the pipsqueak pixie’s pretty play,
bades imbibe the bounties umpteenth,
so the misty-mystique mislead-may,

dew to web and the strings strumming,
flies are caught sun-lost by light,
spiders moving through the becomings,
eyes are lost Sun-caught by light.

heed not the drumming nor the drummer,
seek not the coming of the summer,
know not the ghost of hunger hungers?
know not the souls of under utter
woe to know the flow of colds and scolds to comb?
woed to sow their hopes in gold and bows and combs?
seek the speech that sings the secret salvation,
he that sees the king is Jesus damn’s damnation.

[Anonymous No.21328240]

>>21323897
okay but what language be this?

[Anonymous No.21328330]

>>21328129
Ok, Frater. I criticized you for explaining your own work before, but I have to give credit where it's due. This is an excellent poem, from start to finish. It has such a Chaucerian ring to it, and absolutely masterful command of language. Hats off.

[Anonymous No.21328822]

>>21326452
I like the claw line. It made my winky wiggle.

[Anonymous No.21328971]

>>21313790
This poem is amazing. I really like it a lot. Simple idea executed well.

[snekpen !X8WeJeVkkM No.21329042]

super spooky sliding snakes
slither slowly sideways shakes
silent serpent sharply states
superior species supinate

[Anonymous No.21329362]

>>21322740
I don't understand what this form is in English. Can you explain

[Anonymous No.21329423]

>>21314707
This is the only poem on the page worth working with. You are on the right path anon.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.21329609]

>>21329362
The stanza’s meter is alcaic, which means the pattern of stressed and unstressed syllables is as follows.


× – u – × – u u – u – ||
× – u – × – u u – u – ||
× – u – × – u – – ||
– u u – u u – u – –

Where X=put any kind of syllable you want, -=stressed u=unstressed, example

the SOUND is SMOOTH and FAST as a THUN-der BOLT,
GROUND STRUCK like FUL-gur-ITE though re-MAINS a HINT,
Its FORCE once STRONG EE-ven MORE POUNDS,
LEAV-ing as QUICK as it FADES a-WAY SLICK.

The form is known for musicality and for sounding almost spontaneous, once you play around with it it’s not so different from writing in iambics, I’ve been making a study of the reference and allusion full and entendre full verse of Pindar and wanted to see if I could write using his style within that alcaic stanza.

[Anonymous No.21329674]

>>21329609
I'm new to this. A variable stress in the form itself surprises me. Is this classified as syllabic verse? I'm unfamiliar with syllabic verse.

[Anonymous No.21329726]

>>21312943
Woke up
Need poo
get out of bed
Walk to bathroom
Poo nearly falling out of bum
Open door
Door jammed
Poo falls out of bum
Cry
Neighbour walks past
He was a pickpocket
Stole me Iphone X
Go back to bed
Die off aids

The End.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.21329782]

>>21329674
Nah, while it’s uncommon in English meters stuff like this is very common in classical/ancient metrical scansion, they’re called “anceps” example the favorite line of Horace is probably the Asclepiad the first two syllables of which you can put anything no matter the stress pattern, realistically if one studies the full English tradition of meter that has absorbed the likes of the ancients and the like, you have this stuff, accentual meters where you only count the stresses, so many different substitution methods, that (to me at least) the division between meter and free verse begins to dissolve, more so into a division between of uncontrolled and controlled verse and the authors decision of how to control being the question of their mastery.

It should be remembered meter is just a tool to produce certain melodic/rhythmic patterns thus the variation can be acceptable as long as the overall rhythm/melody is consistent or at minimum pleasant.


Three interesting figures to look into for their usage of classical meters and experiments with accents and syllabic verse would be Swinburne, Robert Bridges and Carducci, the first two being English and you can read their writing on poetry or poetry itself and see immediately the fruit of their experiments.

[Anonymous No.21329818]

Names are just words we use
To label things and people too
But in the world of logic and math
They're simply not needed, that's a fact
For Fa is equivalent, you see
To (an x) (a = x, Fx)
So a need only occur in one place
In the context of a simple equals sign, not a race
And this can be rendered as a predicate
A simple letter, nothing more
So that Fa gives way to (an x) (Ax.Fx)
No longer do we need a name
To refer to something or someone
In the world of logic and math
We can simply use a predicate, that's the path.

[Anonymous No.21329839]

>>21329782
I'll look into Carducci. I recommended Bridges's book on Milton Prosody here the other day.

>their usage of classical meters and experiments with accents and syllabic verse

Can you go into this for us learners?

[Anonymous No.21330008]

mr ny66er are you based?
or are a shill I can't decide
people's souls are laid to waste
world of ours is sold to lies

mr nr1 yygor what you think
would a shitpost crown a king
paradisal lonely thing
pepe, meme & also sneed

pepe poopoo ogoo gaga
booba cooma ate a bug'a
own the Nothing — be a king
rightful owner of the thing
once it used to be a store
now it croaked: 'Forevermore!'
and it flew away my dear
to the absence of all fear

to the absence of it all
someone's raising from the fall
with a big sneed on his hip
our boy juicy with a drip
sussy o'mega his game
laid a big shit looks like snake
shed his skin and walked away
new born baby from the grave.

I could saved her yes I could
fuck her very very good
fuck her till she turned out straight
Sapho's pussy cherry gate

God I love women so much
they smell of candy and of dreams
it's so pleasant them to touch
and to gift them little things

like a candy or a smile
other ladies raise my bile
they project defensive harm
O poor souls bereft of charm!
other day one perfect lass
to my frame has shoved her ass
I was too much on my mind
thinking of a perfect rhyme
that would come together with
the word 'sneed' perhaps — a Myth?
what the fuck's even a myth..

a divinely painted sign? that is flying in the sky
Night guides it into the Time
as a secret bride She hides
taking pleasure in disguise

Lead me to the holy sight
Where the dirt will fall away
And I'll kiss you true and right
By the path of the Milky way.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.21330349]

In pastiche of the rapper KA


out the door and hit the curb,
going poor still twist the herb,
“what’s it for? shit’s absurd “
still want more I’ll fix my words,
I’ll fix my words, I’ll fix my words.


pourin blood since Orpheus,
stortin up these corneas,
forcin but shit’s Corniuh,
all-in but inglorious,
inglorious, inglorious.

dragging knuckles wailing at the moon,
dragging puffs inhailing from the spoon,
acting tough but failing as a goon,
asking what I’m gonna do?
what I’m gonna do? what I’m gonna do?

fuck what I’m going through don’t give a fuck when I’m flowing through don’t give a fuckif I’m going blue,
don’t give a fuck if I’m going soon.

>>21329839
Sure I’ll reply in a bit with some elaboration and examples from their verses.

[Anonymous No.21330362]

>>21312943
>>21312943
my brother threw 10 of my books out of window after a fight
so I threw his ps4 out

That's all I had to say
good day

[Anonymous No.21330533]

>>21326452
You should stitch them together from real tinder posts, like pic related was from a tweet

[Anonymous No.21330543]

>>21329042
Nice

[Anonymous No.21330592]

>>21315204
Sounds like a poem for children. Not necessarily a bad thing.

[Anonymous No.21330606]

I don't think I've posted the latest revision of this poem. Bumping thread.

[Ishmael No.21331040]

feeding amoeba dmt
teaching them the Bible
and later learning them to read
in a mansion full of anarchist beliefs
just to escape for a little while
the knowing all knowing
complete uncertainty

[Anonymous No.21331168]

I think Robert Frost is the most poetical name for a poet I have come across.

[Anonymous No.21331181]

>>21331168
Edgar Allen Poe(t) is pretty good too

[Anonymous No.21331232]

I'm gay
as the days bring me tidings
regardless of the lack
of holidays year-round

a smile lands on my face
whenever the wind whisks
a ginkgo leaf or passerby
to jog my memory
of joys passed but never gone

and even in the world
of forgotten promises
the pulsation of merry
handshakes and kisses
elates in me a sense of senseless
ebullience my rationale
insists to reject
who I deny like any woman
the power to dull
my effervescent bounce
of terminable being
infinitely sound
and silently waiting
happy and resigned
as all good men do
when the work finally ends

[Anonymous No.21331569]

>>21329423
That’s very kind of you to say. Thank you. Perhaps I don’t deserve it but I’ll try hard to work on this idea now that it’s sparked interest in you.

[Anonymous No.21332024]

>>21314707
>>21329423
Stfu, samefag. Your poem was god awful.

[Anonymous No.21332212]

>>21332024
It’s mildly entertaining that newfags don’t know how to read the poster count.

[Anonymous No.21332216]

>>21332212
>he changed his ip just to samefag

[Anonymous No.21332242]

>>21332216
Meds.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.21332440]

>>21329839
Sorry got rather busy but I’ll post some examples.

First the accentual experimentation in Swinburne which blossoms into the sprung rhythm of hopkins.

From ATALANTA IN CALYDON.

ALTHÆA.

Of flame not fed with hand or frankincense.


CHORUS.

I fear thee for the trembling of thine eyes.


ALTHÆA.

Neither with love they tremble nor for fear.


CHORUS.

And thy mouth shuddering like a shot bird.
Let’s scan these lines.

Of FLAME/ not FED/ with HAND/ or FRANK/in CENSE/

So far so normal,

I FEAR/ thee FOR/ the TREMB/ling OF/ thine EYES.

still normal but heavily using relative stress.

NEIT-her/ with LOVE/ they TREMB/le NOR/ for FEAR.

The opening is a simple trochaic substitution, you can put one actually anyone in a line and it’s completely fine, they’re usually done in the beginning, we will return to substitutions later.

And thy/ MOUTH SHUDD/er-ING/ like SHOT BIRD?

now we reach the point where accentual meter comes into play, while the first two stresses being unstressed being followed by two stresses is a common technique called a double iamb (which has a much rarer variant which I’ve only seen and not read about, the quadruple iamb) there is no way to justify his final two syllables as being stressed unless you admit his concern was simply placing 5 syllables down, and this is the key to GOOD accentual verse, that you do not ignore that meter exists but do not slave to it, Coleridge likewise develops a similar system of accentual verse, example from Christabel.

Where an army in battle array had marched out.
The lady sank, belike through pain,

where an ARM-y in BATT-le a-RRAY had MARCHED out
the LAY-dee SANK be-LIKE through PAIN

Swinburne and bridges likewise have experiments with both ancient meters and quantity, example

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45289/hendecasyllabics

Pale white chaplets and crowns of latter seasons,
Fair false leaves (but the summer leaves were falser),
Woven under the eyes of stars and planets
When low light was upon the windy reaches


Cont

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.21332446]

>>21332440
PALE WHITE CHAP-lets and CROWNS of LATT-er SEAS-ons
FAIR FALSE LEAVES but the SUM-mer LEAVE were FAL-ser
WOV-en UN-der the EYES of STARS and PLAN-ets
when LOW LIGHT was up-ON the WIND-y REACH-es

thus the meter is x x - u u - u - u - u

Likewise bridges has not only originals but even translations of others poems into classical meter, example, bridges rewriting a Blake poem into alcaic.

EVENING
From Wm. Blake[A]
Come, rosy angel, thy coronet donning
Of starry jewels, smile upon ev'ry bed,
And grant what each day-weary mortal,
Labourer or lover, asketh of thee.

Smile thou on our loves, enveloping the land
With dusky curtain: consider each blossom
That timely upcloseth, that opens
Her treasure of heavy-laden odours.

Now, while the west-wind slumbereth on the lake,
Silently dost thou with delicate shimmer
O'erbloom the frowning front of awful
Night to a glance of unearthly silver.

No hungry wild beast rangeth in our forest,
No tiger or wolf prowleth around the fold:
Keep thou from our sheepcotes the tainting
Invisible peril of the darkness.

Bridge’s Testament of beauty being the largest experiment in syllabic verse which, again, is not ignorant of accent and feet but considers the ultimate question to be syllabic length, the common element to these is that the sound of the verse is the actual lord and the methods are means to it, in Swinburne (and similar is seen with study of Tennyson and browning)‘S later works you see such a combination of iambs and Anapests and spondees that, while sound beautiful, basically become impossible to scan, and metrical ambiguity is itself a style, read this, it gets into hopkins study of the intentional ambiguity and syncopation of Milton’s verse, which is the father of all of this after a manner. (And also Blake just having poems in free verse.)

https://www.literarymatters.org/11-2-counterpoint-rhythm-and-meaning-in-milton-and-hopkins/

[Anonymous No.21332551]

>>21332440
>>21332446
>sound of the verse is the actual lord
Brilliantly put. I have thought similar sentiments recently. So much of a poem depends on how it is performed. Conventional accentual syllabic scans seem so contrived and a projection of reified abstractions. Can you touch on the metrical decisions of accentual verse? The pale white chaplets one seems like it could become monotonous, especially if it ends femininely on each line. From what I understand, syllable count is irrelevant in accentual verse

[Anonymous No.21332598]

>>21332440
Also, what is a quadruple iamb? Three unstressed followed by three stressed pieces?

>>21332446
Can you go over some of Tennyson's and Browning's works for us?

[Anonymous No.21332701]

>>21332598
>can you go over
Just read a book on meter, lazy.

[Anonymous No.21332721]

>>21332701
I've read books on meter. He's being helpful, and I am asking particular questions that no one wants to hopelessly seek inside of some book.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.21332743]

>>21332551
>projection of reified abstractions.

They are abstracted but this isn’t necessarily bad, you can’t have “play” without a mixture of rule and break of rule.

Can you touch on the metrical decisions of accentual verse?
>The pale white chaplets one seems like it could become monotonous,

Correct but think of this akin to music, the ending of a sound being harmonious or the way a singer bends his voice at the end of each line being the same isn’t necessarily a problem but often a key to the musicality and flow of specific songs, establishing a monotone then can have many values especially if the early or middle part has variation, it’s like the end rhythm keeps the pace steady and keeps the breath “on beat” if you will.

>syllable count is irrelevant in accentual verse

Yes and no, it is irrelevant insofar as, it’s not the core measure but syllabic length will still effect sound and the knowledgeable writer will notice that his syllabic length is going to change the sound, rather do not think of it as “I don’t have to control how long my syllables are” think of it rather as “ I have to control how long and short my syllables are on a case by case basis to make it even better.” Let’s examine some verse from hopkins.

every stanza of the wreck of the deutschland follows the same accentual count regardless of length of syllable or position of accent

I kiss my hand (4)
To the stars, lovely-asunder (8)
Starlight, wafting him out of it; and (9)
Glow, glory in thunder; (6)

i KISS my HAND
to the STARS LOVE-ly-a-SUND-er
(notice how while it’s clearly not in the normal foot arrangement the above would still be logical in the framework of double iambs and trochaic substitutions)
STAR-light WAF-ing him OUT of it and,
GLOW GLOR-y in THUN-der

etc, compare this from the beginning another stanza

Thou mastering me (5)
God! giver of breath and bread; (7)
World's strand, sway of the sea; (6)
Lord of living and dead; (6)

thou MAST-er-ING me
god GIV-er of BREATH and BREAD
world’s STRAND, SWAY of the SEA
LORD of LIV-ing and DEAD

Thus while syllable amount isn’t structured in a repetitive fashion, it is still very much controlled and the logic of meter is still very much present, simply having an even greater control over the nuances of the sound.

>>21332598
A quadruple iamb is my own term for something you see rarely (though increasingly )in formal verse at and post the romantics, it’s a foot that reads

u u u u - - - -


Cont

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.21332756]

>>21332743
For it is a HARD MADE VERSE CHOICE.

So rare in fact I wouldn’t even know where to find one without a lot of searching.

As for the topic of browning and Tennyson, Swinburne’s model of poetry is 100% Tennyson, there’s nothing in him you won’t find gobbled up already in the style of Swinburne, their later poems resemble each other very much also. Browning is the weirder case. Browning will do much the same tricks as them but will at times go even harder to the point rhythm breaks too much for comfort for myself, as it becomes too prosaic; though this prosaic quality is fully intended I believe, but in example of a successful usage, notice the rhyme assonance alliteration and so forth and reminiscence of meter in this bit of browning.

“Flame at my footfall, Parnassus! Apollo,
Breaking a-blaze on thy topmost peak,
Burns thence, down to the depths — dread hollow —
Haunt of the Dire Ones. Haste! They wreak
Wrath on Admetus whose respite I seek.”

FLAME at my FOOT fall PAR-nas-US a-PA-lo
BREAK-ing a BLAZE on thy TOPMOST PEAK
BURNS thence DOWN to the DEPTHS DREAD HOL-low
HAUNT of the DIRE ONES HASTE they WREAK
WRATH on AD-met-US whose re-SPITE I SEEK

Notice how alliteration and assonance make the verse feel more fiery and quick and the usage of trochee to produce speed, it seems like Apollo is falling upon a man in fury, and that is thanks to the extreme control.

[Anonymous No.21332840]

>>21332743
So you mean to say that though the meter is irregular the rhythms are familiar? Also, I read mastering as a dactyl and had a stress on God. What do you think of that?

>>21332756
I think I see what you mean. The poem seems to stagger expressively at the exchange of balance. Is the dearth of symmetry what you mean by a prosaic quality? I'm not familiar with a clear distinction of verse,s and prose's prosodic differences. My assumption was that in prose the rhythms and accents were less emphasized in the recitation, but that stresses are inextricable and remain similar to verse. Not to mention there are no linebreaks in prose.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.21332941]

>>21332840
>So you mean to say that though the meter is irregular the rhythms are familiar?

Correct.

>Also, I read mastering as a dactyl and had a stress on God. What do you think of that?

Both completely fine, for God can be rendered stressed or unstressed by relative force, but by context of the other stanzas we see the count he desires, though as a general rule anon, When you see a multi-syllabic word like “giver” the strength of its natural rhythm if placed into a foot will overpower for rhythmical purposes any mono-syllabic word whatsoever, so yes you could read it as GOD GIV-er, but in the context of where its placed and how you’d say it “god GIV-er” is the more logical in context.

>Is the dearth of symmetry what you mean by a prosaic quality?

Not so, rather the above part is an example where he doesn’t fail and doesn’t become prosaic, I personally consider the prosaic to always be bad.

As for the division between prosaic and poetic, don’t think of it as meter vs non meter, think of it as musical vs non-musical, rhythmical and a-rhythmical, prose can be poetry and poetic and the melody and rhythm of perfect iambic pentameter can be completely prosaic, and prose can control its rhythms. (This is why stuff like the prose poem and the ancient rhetoricians using meter in their prose specifically in the endings was a thing.)

I’ll grab an example of prosaic from a poem I recently read.

“No light, no light in the blue Polish eye.
When he finished a riding boot packed down the earth.
The Lüger hovered lightly in its glove.
He was shot in the belly and in three hours bled to death.”

Obviously the last line is meant to be prosaic because it wants you to say “DAMN” “THAT HIT ME!” And all that, using the non musical quality to emphasize the grimness of it, but personally I don’t like such usages.

But like, in terms of prose rhythms, a lot of pages of Walter pater and Melville are in perfect or nearly perfect iambic for example, there’s no hard division between verse and prose at the high levels, this is why I much prefer to divide it between poetic and prosaic and see prose as just a stanza form.

[Anonymous No.21333385]

>>21332941
The exclamation mark after God suggests to me that it should be granted a stress and a pause.

As to metrical versus rhythmic writing, I think we are differing in senses because I would reverse the way you put it. I see meter as a form and rhythm as inextricable from the language. I read the first line as an iambic foot plus a pause then an iambic foot followed by two anapests. In the second line, when he finished is ambiguous and could be emphasized on when or finished, a riding boot— actually I am becoming confused. I think a riding boot has unstressed syllable followed by a stressed syllable before two more unstressed syllables. Packed down the earth are all stressed besides the. Lüger trips a bit because it has a trochaic rhythm overlapping the beats of the first 2 feet.

Am I totally projecting? Is it that verse suggests rhythm and prose de-emphasizes it?

How about the sentence "How did you sleep last night?" What can we say of it?

[Anonymous No.21333406]

>>21333385
>overlapping the beats of the first 2 feet
I meant overlapping on the beat of the first foot leading into the unstressed piece of the next foot.

[Anonymous No.21333569]

>>21333385
>"How did you sleep last night?"
how DID you SLEEP last NIGHT

what CAN we SAY of IT

[Anonymous No.21333605]

>>21333569
It seemed the did wasn't stressed when spoken naturally.

[Anonymous No.21333666]

>>21333605
HOW did you SLEEP last NIGHT

seems weird to me.

[Anonymous No.21333682]

>>21333666
That might be right, but I wasn't picking up the stress on how. It might be dependent on how it's said. Sleep seems definitely stressed. Perhaps, 5 unstressed beats is impossible.

[Anonymous No.21333829]

>>21329818
Cute

[Anonymous No.21333930]

>>21330606
Really liked this one, anon. Good job!

[Anonymous No.21333942]

>>21329423
Bullcrap, you louse, but it was good.

[Anonymous No.21333944]

>>21331569
It is definitely good, and I'm not the same guy.

[Anonymous No.21334119]

Loosened my Hair in the Wild,
I Wash to the Lilt of the Creek.
A Sultry Wind, Swashes the Boughs,
and Shakes Off the Rude Nuts of Memory

[Anonymous No.21334370]

Shaving

In the water I lay shorn and bleeding with glass eyes that glitter like suns.
A reflection, my face red with nicks and thin slashes like crater or trench.
It’s deliberate, but without care or attention to stop the light pain.
I have carved like Pygmalion, sculptor, from glist’ning white porcelain face
From meniscus of blood-well I’ve hooked with the curve of straight razor and yanked
Out this narcissist’s artwork, a visage deserving of pride.
While my blood-stains dissolve in the tide.


Cawing Card

In alleys of orchards and hedgerows I peek
With black leather feathers and gunmetal beak
To slice at the gravel and icy packed earth
And lacerate ragged your secretive stash
To yank from the grass-blades your furtive rebirth
And leave from behind me a grave plot gash
In the roots and the forests your pantry I’ll seek
And leave you to starve there, so tiny and meek.

End of Semester

Winter nipping
at our reddened heels
laid down softly
on the hard ground
in the sunset
and auburn bedding
your delightful
chiaroscuro

[Anonymous No.21334615]

O please
Won’t you let me be
Your alabaster lighting rod
I know you need one
Hell, erry one does
And I came down
From the mountain
Just to catch it all
For you

History made me fit
The bias of eyes do sharpen
So please
Won’t you let me be blind
Straight, tall, firm gainst
The hate, unprevented
I know you need one
An alabaster lightning rod
Please please
Won’t you allow me
O, please

[Ishmael No.21334620]

>>21334615
Forgot to namefag though I know it only makes you guys hate me more and you’re probably gonna ignore this one anyway

[Anonymous No.21335071]

>>21333385
"How did you sleep last night?" depends entirely on context. In casual converstation there is even variation on how you could say it, needless to say. But if it were used in a poem, it would depend on the previous lines. The power of the meter before could cause the reader to read the line in a specific way.

[Anonymous No.21335072]

>>21333930
Thanks, anon. I like this poem of mine a lot as well. I don't have any finished new works at the moment though.

[Anonymous No.21335097]

>>21334370
I like the rhythm after the first 3 lines in "Shaving". I really like Cawing Card. The 3rd poem is not my thing. What is the 2nd poem about though? It seems like some farm equipment, but I'm not sure.

[Anonymous No.21335103]

>>21334615
>>21334620
Is this about a dick?

[Ishmael No.21335140]

>>21335103
No? Maybe that’s what you see in it, I don’t think the artist owns the meaning of art but nah lol not to me

[Anonymous No.21335173]

>>21334119
I think I improved this poem. Tell me what you think. I capitalized the accented words to aid your reading.

Loos'ning my Hair in the Wild,
I Rinse to the Lilt of the Creek.
when a Sultry Wind, Swashes the Boughs,
and Shakes Off the Rude Nuts of Memory

[Anonymous No.21335245]

>>21335140
You never know in these threads anon. Just see some of the poems posted above yours. I feel like the tone is everywhere. "Alabaster lightning rod" and "erry one" don't mix, and this difference can be seen in using "'gainst" and immediately "The hate unprevented" afterwards. They are such different tones from each other. I like the rhythm going in the first 3 lines but then it goes off with a totally different feeling because of what I just pointed out.

Lick some salt, grasp the cut of lime,
Take the shot, taste of turpentine,
Feel it down, gut-ways, serpentine,
Reel and frown, wrinkled forhead lines,
Useless citrus, not too good a sign,
Ruthless shindig, mood no longer fine,
Righteous witness takes you home alive,
Sightless, dreamless, shaking on the drive,
Clogged the sink, the hissing faucet whines,
Soaked the sheets, missed the trash in time,
Feel a shooting pain when morning shines,
Tequila Tuesdays, ain't never worth the dimes,
A liquor sale as such should be a crime.

[Anonymous No.21335251]

>>21335173
I do think it's improved but I don't like that it ends on memory. Would leave me with a stronger feeling if ending on a stressed syllable or better yet (for me) a rhyme, or even close rhyme.

[Anonymous No.21335281]

>>21335251
I thought that the pyrrhic extra metrical ending worked well with the bunched up stresses in the last line. Also, I thought it represented well the shaken off nuts. Perhaps, the length of the lines and the length of the poem do not warrant the manner in which I ended it.

[Anonymous No.21335301]

>>21335281
It could just be my taste. I'm sure other anons might like it.

[Anonymous No.21335322]

>>21335301
I don't really have faith in my taste, so I still appreciate your commentary. I'm new to this and I'm still pretty self-conscious about what I produce.

[Anonymous No.21335333]

>>21335322
I think you'll find it. If you read poetry you like and try to make something as good as that, and you can look back years later satisfied with a poem, it's a good confidence boost.

[Anonymous No.21335354]

>>21335333
Haha, you don't think years to judge a poem is absurd?

[Anonymous No.21335372]

>>21335354
I think it's hard to judge your own poetry clearly soon after you've made it. I often come back to poems months later and find better lines and tweak it. Often I would get good critiques about things I just don't see or ignore but someone reading for the first time stumble on immediately. You don't need years to judge your own poetry properly, but it helps when you it's stood the test of time, especially for me, when I can no longer change anything about it to make it better.

[Anonymous No.21335381]

>>21330349
I like the repitition at the end of the stanzas. Do you record your own rap as well?

[Anonymous No.21335922]

Page 10 bump

[Ishmael No.21336158]

>>21335245
Hey I get it, it’s an alabaster lightning rod, maybe there are phallic undertones lmao but no it’s about white people being the chosen scapegoat for contemporary societies problems (justified or not). Thank you for the feedback. I get what you say but I’m trying to go for a mix of common white language (especially southern and generally poor white leaning) with other influences. But clearly I can be doing better in getting that across. I don’t imagine I’m a great poet by any means yet so Yeah if my tone seems to shift maybe it does but I do want to mix high and low speech in a way that works. I dig yours, good rhythm and imagery

[Anonymous No.21336172]

You’re so white like Eminem
Imma come back like a pendulum
Snap ya foreskin and ya frenulum
Do a challenge straight cinnamon
Then I do a matchbox of nutmeg
And steal from ya house on the reg
Make some toast outta ya like SMEG
You ain’t hard, your given name is Greg
I listen to Bach, Beethoven, and drill
But you’re just a straight uh shill
Gonna kill ya in my will and testament
My bank account so big there’s no estimate
These bars you gonna get
I did a whole bag of ket
And went down Alice’s hole and did a shit
I fuck on ya bitch with the itty bitty titty
And we get so litty

[Frater Asemlen !U7BKb1yg4Q No.21336262]

>>21335922
Can I suck your dick?

[Anonymous No.21336544]

>>21336158
Maybe try a different approach if you want to mix different voices or tones. It might work much better in a different structure. Thanks for the compliment

[Anonymous No.21336569]

take this one instance, if you would have me confess, my desire to relate, to slip into magnanimity. i opened my eyes to a chain of dust you sitting around. some sort of glint, some straining to see what i couldn't understand. with me in some dire prospect, and you taking for granted what measures could conspire, to take for example this ordeal... and what comes through introspection, life's symbolism... you knew what i meant. what would linger in the room - the history of humanity - the boon of free will, this great-souled intellect... i guess it was the bleeding, which by now had stopped... but i saw the room gently swaying, and with it your demeanor... floorboards offered up the gentle space, and resonated affectionately the sound of human conduct - the evidence of our symbolism, the boots with heels and spurs - instituting your passions, offering up the concept, the aggregate of yourself, and reaching out towards heaven.

[Anonymous No.21336574]

Your cult of beauty can suck my dick
Since you have seen the anus that shits
Fuck your willows and fuck your hopes
Two turds on grassy floor? Ask no more
Whore, let them show
Kill the poet
With shits obscure.

[Anonymous No.21336974]

What's on your mind tonight, /lit/?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-FI6xJNEiYw

[Anonymous No.21337065]

B cyдe я дoлгo oпpaвдaлcя
Pыдaл oт cepдцe, пoкaялcя
Пepeлиcтoвoвaл cвoи вини
Дaвнo ycнyвшeмy жypи.
Гoлoвy чecaл cyдья,
A aдвoкaт, зa pyкaвa,
Cкaзaл мнe,
"He пoнимaeшь ты cyть этoй игpы".

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.21337677]

>>21333385
>The exclamation mark after God suggests to me that it should be granted a stress and a pause.

You’d think! But it’s common to put an exclamation mark on the first Syllable and still not count it, and again you need to consider both the context of the other stanzas and the overpowering nature of a multi-syllabic word in a foot.
> I see meter as a form and rhythm as inextricable from the language.

Neither neither, I’m saying poetry is not in meter nor prose but in quality and deep control, and the division between verse and prose disappears in the high levels, and in the low levels they’re equally garbage.

>I read the first line as an iambic foot plus a pause

I’ll do it for ya.

no LIGHT/ no LIGHT/ in the BLUE POL/ish eye/

WHEN he/FIN-ished/ a RID/ing BOOT/ packed DOWN/ the EARTHS/

The LU/ger HOV/er’d LIGHT/ly IN/ its GLOVE.

In these lines you still see a clear attempt at rhythm, and also an attempt at a descriptive nature, contrast that to the dropping of rhythmical concern and the loss of language register in

He was SHOT in the BELL-y and in THREE OW-ers BLED to DEATH

the most liberal interpretation of this I could possible make is

HE was SHOT in the BELL-y AND in THREE hours(one word)BLED to DEATH

Even in this case, the rhythm of it is totally different and clearly meant to replicate more normative prose speech like a report.

How about the sentence "How did you sleep last night?" What can we say of it?

how DID/ you SLEEP/ last NIGHT

However, i could be given contexts where the last can be interpreted as also stressed and even contexts where night wouldn’t be stressed.

Playing with these is again, the difference between slavery to meter and playing with meter. Good play is imo the most enjoyable.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.21337686]

>>21335381
Me personally no, but I often get people to recite some, fellow I know who also produces rap beats is gonna write his own half of the song and rap it then finish it with that one, relatively soon. I think the rap form is actually very enjoyable to write in especially in the high rhyme mode. I think people here would enjoy it if they tried it.

[Anonymous No.21337739]

>>21336974
Not your own work

[Anonymous No.21337849]

>>21335097
someone once told me that crows and ravens will follow around small rodents (typically squirrels) and dig out the food they have buried for winter after they've left, which can cause the mammals to starve. I saw some ravens hovering around a squirrel in the park recently, and it reminded me of that. Hence the name "Cawing Card" - calling card, but by crows.

Thanks very much for the comments! It took me a while to get used to anapestic hexameter for Shaving, but it could totally use some work. Cawing Card is the best of the 3 and the one I'm most proud of.

[Anonymous No.21337863]

>>21337849
Oh okay. The black leathet and gunmetal made me think of farm equipment, plowing or something.

[Anonymous No.21337868]

>>21337686
Pretty cool. I have a friend who raps and records as well, but I've never seriously written any.

[Anonymous No.21338048]

>>21337686
Frater Asemlen, you old namefagger, I came back to this thread specifically to tell you your Dazzling Lights poem is still floating around in my head days later. It really is a very excellent poem. Hopefully you'll feel good about that. I read a lot of poetry, and not many stay with me so easily.

[Anonymous No.21338075]

>>21337863
definitely tried to be conscious of the mechanical language while writing. birds are kind of mechanical in general, when contrasted to small mammals.

[Anonymous No.21338215]

>>21337677
I don't see how packed isn't stressed. Also, I'm losing the stress on boot.

[Anonymous No.21338232]

>>21338075
I've heard ravens and crows are fairly smart, but I agree. I like that the poem is somewhat vague. I usually don't, and try to keep my own poetry clear and understandable, but it leaves me a little envious when I see more symbolic and complex poems in these threads that I end up really liking. I need to push myself more into practicing this kind of poetry.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.21338428]

>>21338215
Completely understandable! Don’t be disheartened about the oddities of meter, when you see a mostly normative line then see a pattern of three stresses (- - -)
In most cases the writer is assuming the weight of the prior syllable and the next will smash down and sandwich the middle stress and convert it into an unstressed, which it does! The ambiguity in meter is existent because you absolutely CAN still stress “packed “ if given context, like if the prior two lines perfectly had three stresses there, but in the context absolutely it gets converted into -u- example

Example from Keats

That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd,

that LEAVES/ a HEART/ high SAR/ow-FUL/ and CLOY’d

Because high is sharing the same space as the multi-syllabic “sorrowful” and especially because it’s in an already iambic context with a stress prior, it is clear Keats is not creating an irregular line with an extra stress but rather that “high” is not so here.

consider these, first two lines of each stanza in mad song by Blake (of which I’m cutting short since I don’t want to write the scansion for every line.)


The wild winds weep,
And the night is a-cold;

Lo! to the vault
Of paved heaven,

Like a fiend in a cloud
With howling woe,

the WILD wind WEEPS
and the NIGHT is a-COLD

LO to the VAULT
of PAVED HEAV-en

like a FIEND in a CLOUD
with HOWL-ing WOE

Once more, wind due to being sandwiched becomes an unstressed syllable.

It is best when new with meter to scan some of the big names and see if you can catch the oddities and nuances of the rules they’re using obeying and exploiting. For example one of my favorite bits of scansion from Shakespeare is this

“Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon “

What he’s done is he’s began the first foot with a trochaic substitution, followed it by a relative stress then followed that with a double Iamb then finishes it normally, so this looks like

- u u - u u - - u -

AND THIS would be considered completely acceptable and normal in strict iambic pentameter by the standards of Shakespeare, Alexander pope and other such prestigious names.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.21338435]

>>21338048
Thanks! I really do appreciate it! If I’m being honest the bulk of my poems are practice poems intended purely to build flexibility, dazzling lights is absolutely not one such but rather trying to use the results of that practice.

[Anonymous No.21338514]

>>21338428
I think perhaps I had read it with a slight pause after boot which emphasized packed. Still though, the text doesn't seem to indicate what the reciter shouldn't do. I still feel like scanning is only accurate under special conditions. I keep seeing my speech not conforming to the scans.

[Anonymous No.21338550]

>>21338435
Not him but can I ask for any book recommendations which teach one how to appreciate and construct meter? And perhaps recommendations for appreciating and constructing poetry more broadly? Normally I find tripfagging obnoxious but you've been so helpful in this thread and your dazzling lights poem really does drop from the tongue in the most charming way that I'm forced to admit you're one of the ones worth reading.

[Anonymous No.21338571]

>>21338514
Addendum: It disheartens me because I want to play in the rules of form. But if the forms are projections, and the reality lies in the performance, how can my work be fairly appreciated when unheard from me?

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.21339362]

>>21338514
>>21338571
The truth is in between, there is some reality to the meter and some game of fiction, and training this is best by what I’m gonna recommend this anon

>>21338550
Fussell’s poetic meter and form + Hollander’s rhymes reason are both good introductions but the best best thing to do is learn how to do basic scansion and then read a couple collections of poetry you like constantly with the idea of scansion in mind, and you’ll stop yourself and scan lines, pull aside things that look strange, scan them, and just constantly ask yourself “what’s going on here” and by doing that the masters of poetry themselves will teach you how to refine meter and appreciate meter. no book told me about that Shakespeare line above, it just stands out, I would recommend both of you try scanning the entire Coleridge poem Kubla Khan, here is the beginning.

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground

in XAN/na-DU/did KU/bla-KHAN/
a STATE/ly PLE/sure DOME/de-CREE/
where ALPH/the SAC/red RIV/er RAN/
through CAV/erns MEAS/ure-LESS/to MAN
DOWN to/a SUN/less SEA/
so TWICE/five MILES/of FERT/ile GROUND/

Ask yourself why a poet would choose a shorter line in an instance, why he’d begin with a trochaic sub, ask yourself based on what sound it makes and what the mental implication you get is. Obviously it doesn’t have to be Coleridge, any great poet will do the job.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.21339367]

>>21338514
And something I neglected to say, stuff like commas for example kind of take on another usage in poetry as purely breath stops, and the tricks of implying what the reader should and shouldn’t do can be kinda idiosyncratic poet to poet, but in general if there’s nothing in the text saying to stop and breathe, then you just continue the line.

[Anonymous No.21339511]

>>21339362
I have not read Hollander but I have read Fussell. I do not think that saying the truth is in between answers my philosophical problems. In the last line that you shared, using there I think you could stress the word five and it would sound good, or at least to my ears; in fact I think it might sound better, but I don't have the next line on hand to help me judge if the stress on five, giving the line a swords of charged up feeling, and proves it or not. Like I said, we extract some information from the text, but the actual poem is produced by each reader as arbitrator. I sense that you may or may not pause after Khan, but the other lines stand to demand the pause after them. I think you could also stress the first word: in. If there are this many ambiguities just in this one example, then what does it say about the regularity with which scansion wishes to capture? I don't know if you are familiar with phenomenology, but I hope you can see where my issue lies.

[Anonymous No.21339517]

>>21339511
Sorry for the auto corrects

[Anonymous No.21339597]

>>21339511
The way to read it is usually in the meter the poet is using and you can usually tell when they substitute in their lines. If the meter is less regular, then it is harder to discern. Everyone reads poems in their own way, but if we're talking scansion, there are rules to it, it's just that it can be obtuse at times. The scansion itself is not really what matters, but the musicality of the line, and scansion is just a tool to understand what is happening. It is not perfect.

[Anonymous No.21339690]

>>21339597
My point is that meter and scansion both seem to be total projections. You say that it is not perfect, but I say that it seems to obfuscate. We keep making appeals to conforming to the meter, but I don't see scansion conforming to reality. Written poetry is full of ambiguities and I see this sort of analysis as pointless. Perhaps, it is due to our poetic tradition being derivative of the Greeks and Latins who have long and short vowels and we mistakenly substitute it with feet. It all seems so contrived. When it works we say it is accurate, when it doesn't, we say it is imperfect. What if the framing of it was false even when it seemed to work with accuracy?

[Anonymous No.21339740]

>>21339690
I don't know, anon. It seems simple enough for me, although I honestly don't scansion much. I did initially when I was learning to write poetry, but I kind of just do it in my head now, so I don't need to write anything out. Works for me in that way. Substituting feet is real. Meter is real. Maybe you don't read things the way most people do?

[Anonymous No.21339808]

>>21339740
That's my point. The reading of it comes from the vocal production and therein lies more flexibility and plasticity than the scansion can acknowledge. I am saying that meter is contrived and scansion seems to work because poets for hundreds of years have written to the meters they projected. Scansion presupposes the rules of meter. Do you see the circularity?

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.21339892]

>>21339511
Of course, I’ve studied husserlian phenomenology and the French school that comes out of it through ponty, the problem is you’re trying not to use the earlier context of the previous line and you’re not dividing it into feet, which again are arbitrary constructs which DO have some reality in Musicality when applied. As for the implication of stop, when you see a line break that’s for a very very brief breath in and continue, so that isn’t hidden, it’s a part of it, but notice the context in the third line, obviously “ran” continues and itself trails slightly by implication of position.

And while you may desire “five” to be stressed in the final line, again you have to remember stresses are relative in strength and case dependent. Like, say I use the word “poetry” Absolutely I could read it as PO-et-tree, or PO-et-TREE, in a dactylic poem I could use the former or if I’m doing some substitution, like,

“Poetry uses many substitutions”
PO-et-tree USE-es MEN-y SUB-stit-TU-tions

And this is something called a “ hypercatalectic” line, so It would be a suitable form of iambic pentameter EVEN with the additional unstressed syllable, and because it would be in a normative iambic pentameter pattern all of this would be kosher.

Four lines from keat’s Endymion.

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep

a THING/of BEAUT/y IS/a JOY/for EV/er
its LOVE/li-NESS/in-CREASE/es IT/will NEV/er
PASS in/to NOT/ing-NESS/but STILL/will KEEP
a BOW/er QUI/et FOR/us AND/a SLEEP

notice though, if you weren’t using the relative forces of the stress, sure you could at an extreme read the last line as u-I-uuuuu- but that’s clearly not the intention, and in pronunciation, you must remember that meter is the basics,

Cont

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.21339897]

>>21339892
after you gain some mastery you can modify it to balance with your phenomenological experience of the oddities of speech in the nuances of what you’re writing outside of just meter, for example I have a form of. “quantity” verse where I measure words by word length in terms of syllabic measure of specific words and account for aural shortening and other such, but there’s many layers to control of language in poetry that you can study and apply.

>>21339808
One of the problems of English meter that you’re not seeing is our current English system has a basis in Latin and Greek modes which are quantitative while English isn’t, so the actual meat of what’s being scanned in a Latin poem could be easily determined by a machine. You can easily press a button and scan a poem if it’s Latin, but English and accentual poetry by its nature is going to be based on relations of lines, contexts of stanzas and the broader tradition, etc etc.

Now you may say”but this is pure projection, to what benefit?” And that can be found by recitation of these poems of great skill, but personally I really do believe the accentual form is the logical end of the English metrical mode, since realistically 5 stressed syllables with an addition unstressed syllable in the center won’t change very very much unless well placed.

[Anonymous No.21339967]

>>21339892
>Musicality
I don't know what you mean by this. That which is a sonic reality? And the aims of a poems is to structure technically this so-called musicality? If so, I still don't see how the ambiguities of textual interpretation are solved. You are right about ran though. I'm tired and I missed the comma. But I still don't see why five miles cannot be substituted as a spondee.

[Anonymous No.21340015]

>>21339897
I should add that I find your comment on accentual form interesting but I'm not sure what you mean. Also, I've read a lot of poetry, but I never scan it. I suppose because I found it difficult and time-consuming. I will have to make some time to have some long scansion sessions.

[Anonymous No.21340642]

>>21312943
There once was a man named Gold Roger, who was king of the pirates!
He had fame, power, and wealth beyond your wildest dreams!
Before they hung him from the gallows, these were the final words he said:
“My fortune is yours for the taking, but you'll have to find it first. I left everything I own in one piece.”
ever since, pirates from all over the world set sail for the grand line, searching for One Piece, the treasure that would make their dreams come true.

[Anonymous No.21340958]

>>21340642
Nice.

[Anonymous No.21341550]

Im stuck on a dead planet
walking down every street
where the cars drive pass
and the strays meet

the wind carries the smell
of rain
the clouds cover everything over
im alone again

the sun sinks into the ground
like a ship into the ocean
i walk into the darkness
like a dying dog howling

[Anonymous No.21341584]

Sea Foam

The enemy of progress, the greatest pleasure one can have
Beauty of the world, innocence of youth

We try and fight and kill and die chasing after perhaps.
All those before me successful but will I be?

Do I want to be?

Millennia pass but the goal is the same,
The throwing away of everything, caution to the wind
Perhaps they know something that I don’t
Perhaps they are right, maybe that is all there is.

But what if they are wrong, what if they are right?
Perhaps there is more to life than what we seek
One day we will look back and all will be revealed
Drink from the lake and see
What the legacy of man will be

Sea Foam

[Anonymous No.21341831]

in future days
when there are no longer men
the stars will sink into the ground
and animals will play at dusk

on the monuments and machines
that are of no use anymore
except to the mold and decay
and rot

as the lights grow dimmer
and their howling laughter
is carried by the wind
rain will pour over abandoned graves

[Anonymous No.21342913]

>>21338232
Well, a lot of the time the "complexity" is just a metaphor that seems obvious to you, but might not be to anyone else. This poem worked for me as obvious, but everyone I've showed it too found it mysterious. So, I'm willing to bet that in your own work, although it might seem simple to you, there is actually a lot of mysterious or vague imagery that works really well for your readers. I imagine you're better at it than you think :)

[Anonymous No.21343123]

>>21342913
Maybe so, anon. Often it's hard to see mistakes because everything makes sense to the one who's made it.

[Anonymous No.21343216]

>>21341831
i like the big words that do things but none of the little words that join them up. too many little words doing nothing, i think, for me.

when there are no men
stars sink into ground
animals play at dusk

monuments, machines,
no use anymore,
except to mold, decay,
rot.

lights grow dimmer,
their howling laughter
carried by the wind.
rain pours over abandoned graves.

I know that what I've done here doesn't really make sense and it isn't pretty, but I just wanted to see it without so many ands and theres, ares, ofs etc.

[Anonymous No.21343470]

>>21328240
/lit/, everyone.

[What u watching? No.21343638]

To each their own I say, to each their own and grab yourself a cup. Grab yourself a cup, what is this, 2 Girls 1 Cup? That's gross, I would never do that, I will never do that; if it's 2 girls, then gettem each their own cup is what I say. Get them each their own cup - cause why should they be sharing a cup? I'll tell you why they should be sharing one: they shouldn't be.

[Anonymous No.21343643]

When I see a comet in the sky, I still think of you on impulse; and I
I don't know how to wish for anything else anymore

[Anonymous No.21343645]

When it comes to sex, it's either fruitful, or it's fruity. It's either fruitful, uh not as fruitful, or outright fruity. And that's the spectrum. And then there's vegetable sex, but let's not get into that right now. Well the imperative I guess then becomes that if we're not gonna discuss vegetable sex right now, then who will and when? Alright let's get into it. I think vegetables deserve to have sex just as much as anyone else - me personally, I am a man who does not have sex, but I do have the option of jerking off - I think there should be routine vegetable jerkings off, but then can they even come if they want to? And molestation, what if they're not in the mood, how do we know, it really just opens up a cuornicopia of new questions.

[Anonymous No.21343663]

We listened to Legalize It by Peter Tosh. The album cover photo stuck on the screen. Legalize it, and don't criticize it; legalize it, and I will advertise it. You guys better legalize it, or Peter Tosh isn't gonna advertise it. He really runs a hard bargain, I think it's really in everyone's best interest if we legalize it; otherwise Peter Tosh can't advertise it. And look at him sitting there in the bush, looking up at you with those puppydog eyes while taking a rip from that little metal pipe; he wants to advertise it, but he can't until it's legalized.

[Anonymous No.21343676]

I spoke what is quite possibly the longest sentence in literature, I certainly hope it's at least top 5, and at the end of which I offered Nancy Reagan a hit off my joint I was smoking and she looked at it, and then she looked at me and we looked at each other and each leaned in closer intuitively, lost in transcience and gazing into each other forever, neither taking the initiative and both wanting, wanting collapsing into intself like the event horizon of the singularity, insinuating what could never be as the joint passed from thumb, to index, to thumb and index, blinking softly as she spoke in the dismount while clutching her petticoat she said - If someone offers you a hit off their joint: Just say Yes I will yes I will yes. (Nancy Reagan has here been an allegory for Mary Jane, itself a shorthand for marijuana - I might furthermore add that I am an allegory for Ronald Reagan in this scenario as well.)

[Anonymous No.21343683]

Did you remember to inhale? That's pretty funny. See Bill Clinton went to England when he was younger and they said Say Bill, you know Sherlock Holmes is kind of a big deal here in England, and the way he used to smoke a lot of pot and then figure everything out, well we want you to try that out while you're here, how do you feel about that, and Bill Clinton goes, he says, gee you know, I think that sounds pretty good, sounds like a good enough reason to try it, sure I'll do it - but his tragic flaw is that he forgets to inhale, he thinks it's like a cigar where you savor it into your mouth and blow it out right away, he doesn't get high - and then a few years down the road he lets an intern blow him. See I think if he'd actually gotten high, he'd've known better.

[Anonymous No.21343693]

I think that if you love hills, and you think hills look nice, you would also have to be an ass man too. I do, I think butts look good in the same way as hills do, only that butts are symmetrical so they're doubly as beautiful. they say people find faces more attractive the more symmetrical they are, and if you think hills are beautiful then I think you'd transitively also have to feel that way about buttcheeks.

[Anonymous No.21343706]

Men are actually lesser than women, we are greater in volume but that's mostly waterweight, women are more materially dense so our sense of superiority as men really is a well crafted delusion designed to invigorate reproduction. I think our species is in a healthy place when we can all believe a lie like the self-evident idea that men are greater than women, I shudder to imagine if the Amazons had dominated Western antiquity how our species might have overcome the need for beauty the way spiders seem to have; that's not a knock on spiders, it's just that beauty is subjective and I don't see past my own fright there, which is really kind of a compliment for what they're going for I guess; except those yellow green spiders with a big smiley face on their backs, those guys are alright, they really try hard.

[Anonymous No.21343712]

Instead of watching porn now i watch videos of chicks stretching so i don't have to rationalize me watching another guy fuck a chick and all the brain damage that comes with that. I was watching this German chick put on shorts on youtube and she kept saying mein hinden, and then I realized, hinden means hind. hinden, hind. therefore, the hindenberg means the hindberg. the hindburger. and that got me wondering, is that like assburgers? the hindenberg means aspergers. that makes the hindenberg way funnier. suppose that's probably why they crashed it. they were laughing so hard at the name assburgers. aspergers disease is named after a person who had the illness, but come on, with a name like aspergers that's a funny enough image it conjures up already, since burgers go on buns, you know those guys were just sitting there waiting for anything to name a disease after this guy for. Yeah nice going ass-burger.

[Anonymous No.21343715]

>>21343706
You have to take my meds

[Anonymous No.21343723]

Indignation: a poem

I took what you said and reduced it to something else,
and now that new thing I said
is the thing that I'm criticizing

[Anonymous No.21343729]

>>21343715

Are they medical coffee? I remember back in the good old days when you could get coffee in the coffee aisle, not like this bullshit now where you need a prescription

[Anonymous No.21343767]

[Anonymous No.21343782]

Can somebody please start a /Comedy/ general in /lit/? I would do it but I can't post images from my IP I guess and with that can't be an OP. I'm the guy who just posted like 10 monologues I had saved onto my phone, would love to have a general thread in which for people to post their monologues and one-liners with specific designation for that thread. It doesn't feel right to post these in the poetry thread, and it probably would feel off topic in a prose thread, but if someone could start a /Comedy/ general thread I think that could really invigorate this board, maybe use a bust of Aristophanes for the image. I have a lot of stuff on this phone I can post there and that is generally my best style of writing.

[Anonymous No.21343800]

>>21343782
Just get a new phone plan/sim and hotspot. It's not that hard to avoid range bans or IP bans.

[Anonymous No.21343814]

>>21343800

I'm not gonna sneak in an illicit way to start a Comedy general man, if there's no demand for it there's no demand. But if you start one I'll post in it

[Anonymous No.21343821]

>>21343800

I get it if the reason you're apprehensive of posting the Comedy General is because you'd have to write a joke to get the ball rolling, so allow me to ghostwrite you one here:

since Hostess already has the ding dong and the twinkie, both of which sound pretty bad, I think they should make a new pastry called The Mostest. Here comes Hostess with the Mostest. they can make it a whole ad. since it's called that, maybe it oughta be really big. but perhaps the name would have more ironic value if the Mostest were small. i hope they can find a happy medium and make it average.

[Anonymous No.21343994]

Noone was ready
Heads cooked and necks crooked
Along the wrong axis
Now as the song unfurls
And curdled major to diminished minor
All the children look and wince
Hearing screws undo themselves
Back into the wrong, errant lapses of craft
Or the correct rhythm of ruin
And schematics so hot they bled blue to black

[Anonymous No.21344248]

Sappho had a husband
Before we arrived
Nightfires opening the sky
I forgot your face

I'd cut you down
Even if you were my relative
But the shadow keeps following me
With my name

[Anonymous No.21344473]

>>21313036
>Who dreamed a big fantastic plan:
it was charming until this point... you are stalling for time, sound-wise

and the poem goes nowhere from here. Invent a volta or a conclusion. Your voice is beautiful until the exact point I designated above

[Anonymous No.21344906]

>>21343814
>>21343821
Writing jokes here should be in the form of shitposts. I have already written some that got attention. The key is to reuse tropes in a quirky way that people identify with this board, not to try be overly original.

[Anonymous No.21345283]

[Anonymous No.21345828]

Do enjanbments hinder songs? What can I do to separate my spoken verse and my sung verse? Ezra Pound, as I remember, made some comments on this topic, which I should reread, but I also remember him to be oblique.

[Anonymous No.21346020]

Monta la guardia sul muro d'acciaio,
Spezza la torcia buio e paura,
Mano pronta accarezza la spada,
e lo sguardo è di ghiaccio.

[Anonymous No.21346575]

My four-footed friend, who bounds to my feet,
Will lick me to greet, and loyally fend,
Deserving a treat. I sing to no end of
My four-footed friend

[Anonymous No.21347270]

>>21346575
It's nice. I'd like it to be longer actually.

[Anonymous No.21347700]

Beginning once more to annihilate the evil
It hath virulently spread amongst the garden
Creeping vines which sought our destruction
Yet only grew large in the dark

The Light of the LORD returns once more
To this earth which enemies of Christ inhabit
And even now they scramble and flee by the mere mention of His name
Which is to be expected of cowards to the highest degree

But they are forgiven if they should repent
And our seat is in Heaven for we have already repented
We have been freed from the shackles of Satan the accuser
And the mere whisper of the LORDS return envelops your people with
Ultimate vigor and resolution to our promise to be yours forever

As we awake to the mayhem caused by evil
It is clear to us that we are also impure because we accepted it
Welcomed it into our lives; compromised our determination
To uphold the commandments of the LORD
And driving Him away instead of welcoming Him
And still we are FORGIVEN

The angels and saints dance with us and love us
We adore the multitude of Heaven and crave its perfection
To be brought to us before our very eyes through our actions
We want to build kingdoms for You and glorify You
Until the end of time to proclaim and discover
To adventure and to experience the Creation
You hath made’st for us O LORD
The mysteries are welcomed and enjoyed
And sought after to no end because our
Father is INFINITE

O glorious Father in Heaven above I beseech thee
Fill us with your spirit and guide us on this path
Shine upon us your grace and mystery we humbly pray
Amen

Cast aside the evil ones from us and the children
Save us from their powerful clutches
Root out the wicked from the righteous and heal our spirits
Provide for us the nourishment of truth in your words and power
To speak against the devil and cast him out again from your people
For simply naming him is enough to flee before the judgement of
Jesus Christ
Amen

Grant me the humbleness to serve you alone o’ LORD
I pray for none other than this
Take everything I have from me if so be Your desire
Teach me to always uphold virtue in the face of temptation
Allow me to spread your love to others and heal them also
Without words I wish to feel your presence at all times and
Be close to you Father
For the destruction of evil comes at Your Most Powerful Hand
And judgement is left to Thee alone
I ask for the blessing to perform Your miracles
While yet I am wicked inside
I beg for your mercy and wisdom to free me from sin
And to free my people from the shackles which
Keep us from reaching closer to You.
Shatter the illusion and bring us home to you
Fill our spirits with peace and serenity and the highest of virtue
Invigorate us and compel us to spread your WORD
Amen

[Anonymous No.21347856]

I spent the night in premonition,
About a coming solicitation,
An allurement beckoning your love turn requite and take flight,
To lock legs and eyes again on an ardent Ålesund night.
Convincing you by the time your Rignes is through,
I’m not the man you once knew.
Returning a Cartier ordained clandestined libertine,
Coming back for (NAME HERE)
An offering to solve a kitchenette ordinance,
But we'd need more for our armistice….
If truth is what you seek, William saw no rose in her cheek,
And I see no future of ours that doesn't look bleak.
And as Neruda writes about love forgiving with grace,
Pinochet poisons and takes his place.

[Anonymous No.21348460]

>>21344906
>>21344906

Do you think there are a finite amount of funny things to say? Are you afraid you're going to hit every note on each topic? Why are you afraid of posting a /Comedy general/? I can't do it because I'm rangebanned from image posting, but if you grow some balls I will post in it

[Anonymous No.21349138]

All them gay demons
Really get offended when I use the word Demonstrate
I knew the day, they legalized gay demons marriage
That we couldn't say Demonstrate no more.

Damn straight

All them gay demons
Really get offended when I use the word Demonstrate
I knew the day, they legalized gay demons marriage
That we couldn't say Demonstrate no more.

[Anonymous No.21349858]

>>21347270
I wanted to write at least half a dozen stanzas of it, but I have no experience with writing longer poems. Moreover, I lose motivation quite quickly. I'm glad you liked it though.

[Anonymous No.21350439]

>>21346575
absolutely BASED

[Anonymous No.21350463]

>>21350439

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.21351227]

Bump will reply later.

[Anonymous No.21351615]

We're working on /lit/'s next collaborative project, our own epic poem(s) in the style of The Cantos of Ezra Pound, or The Waste Land, here
>>>21349112

[Anonymous No.21352147]

[Anonymous No.21352151]

[Anonymous No.21352239]

[Anonymous No.21352641]

>>21352151
unfathomably based

[Anonymous No.21352736]

>>21352641
How?