/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.2193711]

Poetry thread? Poetry thread.

[Anonymous No.2193713]

Handful ~by~ Anonymous


Blue. Angered fields.
A deathly hum; Slowly approaching.

Firsthand lamp aset the melting table -
Interrogating myself, Whispering roulette.
(Quiet emotionless I hoped for.)
Movable mindset, Timetable stance -
Wayward games I played to secondhand.

[Anonymous No.2193717]

Illuminate ~by~ Anonymous


Selfish brain sways it's negative energy
Keeping evolution wrapped in blankets of conflict.
Death slips,
Memories slashed by the sharp feeling of what it once was to be reborn.
Another success story to be told among the illuminated ones.
A Sectional Prism in which my heart is divided for the tears of unecessary.
A Serious Take of prime evil;
None so many.

[TheGrandPoemer No.2193722]

This book
This fractured ruin
Of truth, this fiction
Scattered among its word
Its pieces
If only I could put them
Together
They do not stay
In the old lobster trap
In my brain
Its braying, fast
Bulbous, mascara
Snake, beefhearts
Pumping in unison
All over my fractured
Tales
The wind, do you hear it
Son? Daughter?
Where are my children?
Upstairs in the playpen?
Six feet beneath?
The ground is hard
This time of year
The air is cold, it blows
A harsh raspberry
In my ear
I have my books,
However
Covered by skin
From a cow I
Killed
Its skin I used
To cover this knowledge
That I cannot recall
Or assemble
Anymore

[Anonymous No.2193724]

>Kristinia
>by C. N.
~
Kristinia,
Falling out of muddy vents with your Universal Smile.
Kristinia,
Swallow once more to tell me the man isn't there.
Kristinia, so true,
Heart of Dark and Blue,
Inexperienced behind one's natural dial.

Kristinia, Tell me -
Fogging up the windows with your herbal teas -
Kristinia,
Have you no shame for their hearts?
Kristinia,
I've wondered for as long as I've wandered,
And here I still am crying into you,
Kristinia.

Envy on both sides of me,
It's green fingernails dug into my shoulders.
Envy for the Life I Was and the Man I Wasn't.
Envy out of the hole I crawl from to fake my sorrow.
Envy in which I seek without a true reason to love you again.
Envy that bleeds from my collar,
A thin thought for once it was your tears, Kristinia.

Kristinia...
Kristinia, I am here.

Kristinia,
Your Delusional Fury made Flesh may hold onto hand
But the Heart is mine.
Kristinia,
Higher we must go.
Remember to let go.

[Anonymous No.2193725]

>>2193722
Is it wrong I read this in a Chris Walken voice?

[Anonymous No.2193731]

Every word hurts
When it leaves
But the relief
Makes me cry

I feel light.
Butterfly
Softly you
Float away

Now nothing
Can hear
endless words
Farewell

[TheGrandPoemer No.2193736]

>>2193725
Hahh,
Hahh
Go right a-head, a-non.

[Anonymous No.2193739]

>Cheap As Fuckery
>by C.N.
~
Cheap as fuckery motor oil -
Silver tooth of gold teeth babies.
(Bloodsucking
weird favorite)

Finger penis blue, back when there was color -
Nothing to write home about.
(Save it all,
cigarette things)

Helmet sweaters soaked in avocado
folding over into your aviators.
Pot smoke bottle drink lime wine til it's dark
Electricity veins. Blackout.

Cycle the losers to pass it down -
We need our group picture for the lesbian pages.
(Mindtricks are not kids when boiled in bad acid.)

Skate shoes lost in the house break-in days -
No fish, Denny. Only caught spoons and forks -
Put it there with the rest of us.
(Dilated creeps)

Mother gone, piss ton -
Don't mind me.

Yellow teeth wearing alcoholic Gods grappling
spontaneously drawn Cyclone Mountains
(Little notepads I used to draw them in.)
Stencil vivid Earth - (when it was once in water)
Use it as therapy if thats your deal...

[Anonymous No.2193789]

I love poetry threads

At the end of the road we started walking
Towards where the map named a town
Our arms and backs lumbered with supplies
To remove the seduction of returning

This was the beginning
And it smelt like a storm
Just over the horizon

[Anonymous No.2194856]

bumping for the goddamn love of poetry, motherfuckers

[Anonymous No.2194875]

The river Boyne flows in its still and reverential silence by the lit bank of a Celtic summer morning.
Its path sternly seperating the vivaciousness of a glorious green meadow from the thick treeline of deciduous sentinals.
Tips of tamed grass and furbelow flora offer their dew, dazzling in the light of their rising lord.
Light sears the grateful audience and shews this shrine; or aperture to a vast and deceptive forest of pathetic emotion to memories long forgotten and lost by man.
In its infinite deathly consensus the sprites and tales continue existing relentless; while whispering wraiths wander wreathed altars to Pan; encased in regal vines reserving the ethereal law of the land.
Watchers in the Rahan wood conceal their ancient lore under the brindle sea of low leaf litter bearing memories of fauns and frabjous fables seldom spoken by those who listened late to the ululations of unknown spectres singing of solemn virtues never visited.
The ophidian aegis curls, caresses and camouflages the mystery contained, conserving it for those pre-ordained kings and queens of unfeigned; unreigned and abstained; lands.

Thoughts?
Would love criticism.

[OP !GdJA7kwHSQ No.2194879]

>>2194875
It's spur of the moment so I didn't structure it properly, thus the mess.

[Anonymous No.2194880]

>>2193789
>Seduction of returning

Snazzy.

[Anonymous No.2194888]

I'm currently working on a series of poems based on the idea of Hamlet's ghosts travelling through things that never happened, that never came to be. Politics, childhood, nature, women, lies and history are the main themes.

Problem is I didn't type them yet and I still need to fix some things.

[Anonymous No.2194889]

I've always had trouble writing poetry. I just can't do it.
Which is going to be tough when I go back to college next year to do Creative Writing.
Where do I even begin?

[Anonymous No.2194895]

>>2194889
You can't force yourself to write poetry. Do it from your heart or just don't do it. It requires an excessive desire to play with words and too much thinking.

[None !GdJA7kwHSQ No.2194900]

>>2194889
I got mine in uni itself.
It's amazing.

Being a creature without empathy I was amazed to learn in my poetry lecturers that people could experience such intense emotions with poetry.
I watched one lecturer cry at a point reading a poem on miscarriage, and another lose his ability to speak when reading a poem to us.
Another time I listened to a young couple read poetry to each other on a bus, being immensely happy.

I felt bad knowing I could never feel such emotion, however I would wish such emotion continue.
I sat down and thought of a time and place in my life where I was truly amazed and mystified at the world around me.
I just wrote and wrote.
Then I changed the words to suit and give a precise meaning.

When I finished I couldn't believe I had actually written a poem.

[Anonymous No.2194908]

Finally, something I love more than myself.

I have been writing poetry since my teen years, 'tis one of the few things that can make my heart race (from a physical point of view it is nothing but an adrenaline rush, but still).

Although I am a bit reticent on posting my own work on 4chan.

[Anonymous No.2194916]

>>2194908
actually I've been quite curious about your poetry in particular. post just one, so I can get an idea of your writing style.

[Dr. Seussicide (SLAF) No.2194945]

#2
Open up iWorks, sip your coffee from your midwestern coffee giant.
Write, write any old thing that comes to your mind
It can be be a poem about scrambled eggs
Or it can be a piece of fiction about shooting the piss with Hemingway
Just write, and eventually you'll start writing something good
Or something really terrible, either way
You can just add line breaks and call it hipster poetry.
In the end, you get the chicks.
I don't even know what I'm doing anymore.
I'm going to out.

[Anonymous No.2194960]

>>2194916
I am not going to post one of my olden poems. But I am, however, going to write one down right now just to quench your curiosity.


Do you feel the temptation
To deliver something as guileless
As liberation through a thoughtless revelation
From a mindless perception?

Is this how you feed the mind
Leaving nothing behind
Just taking some pride
On breathing tonight
Boiling the blood
In the name of your cold rite
Killing the doubt
Drowning your debt

Let us unravel
Unravel your chains
Cleanse
Cleanse your pain

Just ride
Ride the train
Go insane
Hold that thought
And kiss
Kiss the doleful ashes.
I am my biggest critic and I give this one a rating of 2/10. Probably the worst thing I have ever written. Good lord, what in the world was I thinking?

[Anonymous No.2194966]

>>2194960
Probably not the best poem ever written, but I like your use of repetition, one of the techniques I have personally never used in poetry, and it's quite effective.

[None !jJi8o9FWDE No.2194968]

>>2194960
holy shit. I thought you were full of it, didn't knew you actually wrote like this. I'm quite impressed Jimanon, good grief...

[Anonymous No.2194981]

>>2194966
I am actually impressed that you liked this one. I do not write very well under pressure.
You humble me good sir. Which one is yours?


>>2194968
Much obliged, I am just a tad timid on the "posting it here" matter.

[Anonymous No.2194989]

>>2194960
Not bad. 8/10.

>>2193739
This one made me lol, good job.


>>2193722
>Dat_game_of_words.jpg

[Anonymous No.2195002]

>>2194960
fucking FINALLY I see something you wrote. thought you were just bullshiting us saying that you were a writer. good job.

[Anonymous No.2195007]

>>2194981
Never posted any, the only criticism I have of your poem would be this part:

"Just taking some pride
On breathing tonight
Boiling the blood
In the name of your cold rite
Killing the doubt
Drowning your debt"

This is the only part that seems like it was a bit awkward. I am sure that this is just the result of being written really quickly though, since the rest is great.

How often do you write? Scheduled or sporadically? I can only write when I get a "need" to write. It's therapeutic almost. And that's one of the reasons I won't post one of my works, since I can't write essentially at all on the spot, and am hesitant to post my own, since I don't actually intend for an audience regardless. I feel as if that my writing would become a presentation rather than a representation if I do so with the intent of showing others.

[Anonymous No.2195012]

>>2194960
Were you, by any chance, conceived on July 4, 1971?

[Anonymous No.2195017]

>>2194960
>claims to have just written it [despite probably spending hours writing and editing it days before]
>giving himself a low rating
>Knows he's going to get faggots sucking his dick and being 'u so modest'.

Your poetry is average at best too bro.
TAR material, but not the new yorker.

[Anonymous No.2195020]

Pauly shore and tao lin
hanging round in denny's bin
behind the diner eating food
freegan faggots thinking they're doing good
getting it on to pictures of megan boyle
eating the grubby food before it can spoil
I'm masturbating right now.

[Anonymous No.2195029]

>>2195017
The problem with this kind of person, is that they will not post their own works. Their lashings are most likely resultant from them being insecure about themselves and their own works.

[Anonymous No.2195031]

>>2194989
Thank you sir.


>>2195002
I did make you people wait a lot for one of my own creations. For that I apologize.
Thank you for the opinion sir.


>>2195007
Actually, that bit was from another scrambled poem I never finished, it has a stupid meaning behind. But somehow I can't see this one complete without it.
I do, however, accept criticism.

I write on daily bases, whenever I get the chance. A little piece here with my morning coffee, a little piece there before lunch and so on. I also read frantically, it is my addiction.
A friend posted a link to a little piece entitled "Why is it easier to write when you're sad". Is this your case? You write to "blow off some steam"?
You should organize your work into something bigger, more structured in my solemn opinion. So it doesn't sound "forced" upon, as you implied it would be if posting it.


>>2195012
I wish, but I see what you did there good sir.


>>2195017
No comrade, I CAN be spontaneous with my writing if I try to. I just don't like it.
And I give myself a low rating because it is (from my point of view) one of my worst pieces.
I am transparent.

Why so boisterous? Let us see some of your work.

[Anonymous No.2195039]

>>2195029
I am MORE than secure about my work.

My fear about posting it here is another one. Must you jump to innacurate assumptions?

[None !jJi8o9FWDE No.2195040]

>>2195017
>>2195029

[Anonymous No.2195048]

>>2194960
long time no see faggot. where have you been? you promised 3 threads in november dude.

[Anonymous No.2195054]

>>2195031
I could actually tell you added it in but I thought you went back and just added on, funny how that works. The body can identify intruders, and the mind as well? It's not bad, just foreign, but maybe you wanted it to stand out.

I am working on writing a novel, and I might try to piece together my poems in a semi-coherent way. Maybe to convey a timeline or story.

It is definitely easier to write when experiencing emotions, but sadness is just one of infinite I experience. Whenever I feel different degrees of emotions I always try to capture them for reflection afterward. I like to feel what I felt a while ago, and try to understand why if the reason eluded me beforehand. And yes it does blow off steam to an extent, but it's more about the preservation of emotions into something concrete, which is rare for my personality type, which is mostly thinking of the abstract.

But how do you suggest to organize? What do you mean? Still sort of puzzled by that.

[Anonymous No.2195071]

>>2194960
>>2194908
10/10 would rage again.

[Anonymous No.2195092]

>>2194960

that was pretty shit

[Anonymous No.2195094]

My soul, do you remember the object we saw
on what was a fine summer’s day:
at the path’s far corner, a shameful corpse
on the gravel-bed, darkly lay,

legs in the air, like a lecherous woman,
burning and oozing with poisons,
revealing, with nonchalance, cynicism,
the belly ripe with its exhalations.

The sun shone down on that rot and mould,
as if to grill it completely,
and render to Nature a hundredfold
what she’d once joined so sweetly:

and the sky gazed at that noble carcass,
like a flower, now blossoming.
The stench was so great, that there, on the grass,
you almost considered fainting.

The flies buzzed away on its putrid belly,
from which black battalions slid,
larvae, that flowed in thickening liquid
the length of those seething shreds.

All of the thing rose and fell like a wave,
surging and glittering:
you’d have said the corpse, swollen with vague
breath, multiplied, was living.

And that ‘world’ gave off a strange music,
like the wind, or the flowing river,
or the grain, tossed and turned with a rhythmic
motion, by the winnower.

Its shape was vanishing, no more than a dream,
a slowly-formed rough sketch
on forgotten canvas, the artist’s gleam
of memory alone perfects.

From behind the rocks a restless bitch
glared with an angry eye,
judging the right moment to snatch
some morsel she’d passed by.

And yet you too will resemble that ordure,
that terrible corruption,
star of my eyes, sun of my nature,
my angel, and my passion!

Yes! Such you’ll become, o queen of grace,
after the final sacraments,
when you go under the flowering grass
to rot among the skeletons.

O my beauty! Tell the worms, then, as
with kisses they eat you away,
how I preserved the form, divine essence
of my loves in their decay!

[Anonymous No.2195098]

>>2195048
I have been gone for a while, but my current situation gives me little access to /lit/.

Sadly I am overwhelmed with problems (not my own), which prevent me from complying my schedule.

However, I already started a thread last Monday.

>>2195054
Something along the lines, I have a hard time finding just one meaning behind a poem. For what I see a poem opens thousands of doors. You can choose which ones to go through, and draw your own meaning from there. But it was indeed the climax of it, good eye my friend.

How delightful, I finished one in September. Which is the focal theme of yours? It is a dangerous mix however, but it can give birth to spectacular results.

Ah, kind of like an emotional journal? I can relate to that. The long hours spent in my High School geography classes writing down what the disgust I felt at the time...my surroundings were not bad, but reality was out of place.
Not to sound too hasty here, but what personality type are we speaking of here? Because it is quite daft how I can relate to that. Mine does not allow abstract thought, yet here I am doing what I do.


My suggestion is to cleanse your mind first. Scrape off any sort of outside influence, whether it is emotional or physical. Leave your mind in a blank, vacuous state. This is the hardest part, because many people can't "pull the plug"...I had some outside help, per se.
After this, gather your work and read it over and over again until every word brings a familiar feeling with it. Following this, everything will appear to you as it is: clean. So you will start making connections, associating a certain piece to another and so on.
This was, and is, the method I used since my teen years and it's working quite well for me.


>>2195071
*sigh*


>>2195092
Thank you. I had some "pretty shit" infuences.

[Anonymous No.2195101]

>>2195094

Now that's a poem. It's too bad you did not actually write it.

[Anonymous No.2195104]

>>2195101

I was just posting some Baudelaire to motivate people.

[Anonymous No.2195106]

>>2193711

Poopdick by: Anonymous

I put it in her butt
Boy what a slut
I enjoyed being in her butt-hut
But when I pulled out
I gave a shout
It was the color of burnt trout
As pleasant as gout
There was poop on my dick
How could this trick
Get poop on my dick
Oh well I gave it a lick
I then got sick
From eating the poop on my dick

[Anonymous No.2195121]

>>2193713
I like it, but a bit contracted.


>>2193717
Love it, love everything about it, even that transcendental meaning behind it.


>>2193722
Wonderful, although I would suggest not to disperse the verses so much.


>>2193724
I feel like you out too much effort into it instead of getting carried away...but not bad.

>>2193731
Butterfree?
>DatNostalgia.jpg

>>2193739
Better than the other one, I love the satire here.


>>2193789
Good, but I can't quite find a meaning. Which leads me to nowhere.

>>2194945
Contemporary love.

>>2194960
One of my favorites here, speaking of "transcendental"...

>>2195020
I just mentioned contemporary stuff. I lol'd.

>>2195106
wat
>>2194875
Too worked up, you need to let go. But, despite being contracted, I love how heavy it is.

>>2195094
Lol, Baudelaire, not fair.

[Anonymous No.2195131]

>>2195098
you write only poems?

[Anonymous No.2195147]

>>2195131
Although poetry *is* my main road, so to say, I do write in the name of other genres. As aformentioned, I finished a novel back in September.

I have a hard time trying not to turn everything into a addle-brained form of poetry.

[Anonymous No.2195152]

>>2195147
jerkoff, I missed the thread of monday. what was it about?

[Anonymous No.2195165]

>>2195152
The main subject was Romanticism. But somehow it evolved into something about emotional influences over writing.

Most people agreed that happiness is the worst emotion that can be involved while wasting ink.

Someone mentioned archive, perhaps the thread is there.

But unyoke, I shall make 2 more threads in November.

[Anonymous No.2195185]

>>2195165
so next monday new thread?

[Anonymous No.2195195]

>>2195185
N to the Ope, but the Monday the 21st I'll make a new one. But I am looking forward to this one, since the theme will not be something you love, but something you hate and despise with all your might.
It will rise some controversy for sure, for some crowd-favorite writers will get (for the lack of a better word) shit thrown at them.

[Anonymous No.2195237]

The sister claimed
She wasn't high enough
High enough to reach
High enough to climb
High enough to touch

The guilt flooded
Blameful minds
Left behind
Sad gesture
Feelings grind

Moonlight bane
The sister's cage
Lost
Never to be found
To be reached
To be touched
To be, anymore.


Opinions? It's a bit sassy, I know...
But I like it for some reason.

[Anonymous No.2195240]

>>2195237
Probably the best piece in this thread.

The simplicity behind every verse is haunting and submerges you into a profound loop.

I dare to say this can make it into my top 20 poems written on /lit/.

[Anonymous No.2195243]

>>2195240
Thank you man! I feared that it would be too petulant for /lit/'s taste because of its simplicity.

[Anonymous No.2195245]

>>2195240
I think you're a fucking moron and bad at judging poetry.

[Anonymous No.2195246]

>>2195237
I like it. bit rough round the edges but its cool

[Anonymous No.2195247]

>>2195243
No problem, always sincere on the theme.

>>2195245
Thank you, opinion noted. Want a hug? I bet an accolade would make your rampageous state of mind go away.

[Anonymous No.2195257]

>>2195246
Thanks, it does sound a bit forced IMO.

>>2195247
I liked yours too, a bit transcendental and abstract, but pretty kickass.

[TheGrandPoemer No.2195258]

>>2195185
I'm all in favor of making these things a regular occurence, as I have little input on my own poetry.

>>2195121
I'm also in favor of structuring these threads in the pattern of /soc/ rateme threads (ie, post a poem, rate erryone else's [although if anyone tries to draw a comparison between those two, I'll deny it vehemently])

And for you, who thought my verses a bit too airy:

Rate me, anon, rate me, collective stranger
Your numbers, from one to ten, your quanta
I crave, its input my goal, opinion in bulk; upon it I thrive
Independent anonymous; for whom I would even commit the nominal sin of camwhoring
But let us put our hands together and pray, come to the circle, family, friends, stranger
And call, liturgical, staid, soberest and grim, to God above that it does not come to that
The flashing electrons in their naked wires, network'd
On this superhighway, I am, surfing
Phishing, perhaps, but that is 'gainst the law
But busting tripcodes is ever so much fun, how can I not
Even attempt it?

[Anonymous No.2195284]

>>2195257
That was my intent mate.

>>2195258
I actually laughed at that.

Although I love criticism (delivered and received), the rating system that floats around from one declining board to another really vexes me.

>>2194875
My lord this one was breathtaking. The person who wrote this, is she still here?

[None !GdJA7kwHSQ No.2195302]

>>2195284
>She

He actually.
Thanks for the compliment.

Did this one on the memory of a camping trip.
There's a huge meadow with cattle, and a ridge of sand to a river, opposite the bank is an extremely thick forest (with its own tales might I add).

One night I went into the forest (where I come from I'm accustomed to walks late at night due to calving cattle and such, the world is so much more deep at night). I found a thick and jutted rock within the labyrinthine forest covered in vines and making space for an intense moon to shine down upon it.
It was breathtaking.

I don't go into the night itself, but in the poem I was trying to contrast the new age Ireland to the dyeing customs of an old one among other things.

[None !GdJA7kwHSQ No.2195307]

>>2195302
>dyeing
fucking auto-correct

[Anonymous No.2195312]

>>2195284
Hey, Jimanon. How do you feel about http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KMbx1f43Y9A ?

[MousieMousie No.2195317]

>>2195258
Mee too I have posted a few on here and the cheer for commenting on unknown peers before posting my own has made me rear-lize the deadful sin without leaving an op in yin. Suffer

Poemer your text is busting with vexing, Scathing reflection. It is pretty good but the airiness is still there. Haven't given too many comments on poetry other than my own.


Mousie mousie clicking away
And scratching between the walls
Your nails are sharp and I'm afraid
Will cut some wires one day.

Mousie mousie with power gone
I will light a candle and the hunt is on
You can run to the furthest corner
But I will search and snap
You're a goner.

[Anonymous No.2195319]

>>2195302
It was quite a piece, I read it too quickly the first time to realize how striking it actually was.

I too, can relate to the source of your inspiration, for my elan for travelling makes me move.

Just out of curiosity, my potential favorite poet of /lit/, how long did it took you to finish that marvelous piece?
>>2195312
I am quite impressed actually, what a delightful mix. Celebration of The Lizard, Back Door Man, good stuff.

Have this one!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vlm6qH0wT7g

A quite emotional bit, sounds like a dissimulate goodbye.

[Anonymous No.2195323]

doorsguy is deist, right?

[Anonymous No.2195326]

>>2195323
I have a hard time defining my ethos, since it varies with my mood.

One minute I am a nihilist past its grieving period, the other I am a solipsist in denial, and so on...doesn't quite fit a religious concept, does it now?

[None !GdJA7kwHSQ No.2195328]

>>2195319
20 minutes at most I'd say.
I had no idea what I was writing until I finished it.
I was writing to a friend on the trip I made, I put the challenge to myself to make it sensory. Then I went off into a tangent (no doubt due to my reading of "The Great God Pan") and when I finished I had just realised what I had written.

It's pure in that it hasn't been altered or edited. I find it quite ironic in that I was never a fan of the romantics, and here I am writing with a burst of emotion.

[Anonymous No.2195337]

>>2195328
As I mentioned before, nowadays I have a hard time writing out of impulse. Hiting my 20s was the end of an era for me, since my concern with perfection grew more and more.

Going from Bob Dylan to Leonard Cohen in a few months really shook up my writing style.

I find it hard to disconnect in such a star-gazing, moony way without aid.

This particular bit here:
>In its infinite deathly consensus the sprites and tales continue existing relentless; while whispering wraiths wander wreathed altars to Pan

It really blew my mind, for the lack of a better expression.
Holy fuck mate. This coming from a guy who has read over and over again almost everything from Rimbaud to Byron.

[Anonymous No.2195349]

Protip: for good poetry look up "consumer report" by Peter porter on youtube

[Anonymous No.2195357]

War Poem

The first world is the Queen Wasp,
nested in the bones of old boys.
The bones murmur in a dream tongue:
"You cannot see the trenches
for your laptop and your phone;
You do not have the right to feel sadness.
You do not have the right to be alone."

The first world is the Queen Wasp,
nested in the bones of old loves.
The Wasp buzzes in reply:
"Though the phone sits without ringing
and the laptop lies without noise,
I stand atop the lice caked bodies
of a million joyless boys."

[None !GdJA7kwHSQ No.2195359]

>>2195337
You should get out and travel in places devoid of other people, that does it for me. Just give into the mind and it will take you places.

America and continental Europe are great, but there's something in the Celtic lands. Especially the backlands and forests of Ireland. A living yet dead mythos, which consumes and calls you. It's almost otherworldly in nature. I can't even begin to describe the feelings it gives.

Here's a picture of the destroyed monastery which greets you before the forest.

[Anonymous No.2195371]

>>2195098
The focal theme of my novel... Hmm. I would say it appears extremely pretentious. I don't want to sound like an ignoramus, but I question everything about everything. It's basically a sum of all the things I have learned so far in life, which is to say very little, objectively. It is a book about philosophy in a fictional medium, better than outlining points and then elaborating in my opinion.

It isn't an emotional journal as far as I can tell, it's accessible to a third party, but I just wish to keep the genuine emotions within it and only for my viewing. About the meditation method you use to write, I suppose I already do that but in a different fashion.

Personality type? If you are into categorization, I am an INTP. Notable "abnormalities" are as follows:
-I am very out of tune with reality (think absent minded professor),
-Very analytical compared to emotional
-Contrarian (a term recently learned) I love to argue and debate, probably my favourite activity

What about yourself?

What about your novel? Are you going to attempt to get it published or is it already? Genre? Personal motivation for writing it?

[Anonymous No.2195394]

>>2195359
That is probably my principal objective while travelling, taking some time to myself.
Avoid people, release control, give in to my thoughts. I've been doing it since I was a laddie, getting lost on purpose in the corn fields.

North America is sadly the place I visited less, only setting foot in Miami. But I swept Europe from one end to the other, even if briefly during the last 4 years. Must say that forests are indeed my favorite spots. Sad to say that Rosscarberry Woods was the only place in Ireland that I had the pleasure to see by myself.

After googling "Rahan Church", the urge to buy a plane ticket to Ireland encroaches me...now that would be one of my sanctuaries. Jolly lord.
These few frontiers left between the hand of nature and the hand of man are overwhelmingly wondrous.

[Anonymous No.2195395]

>>2195371
This is truly getting astounding, since I myself question everything. The truth behind every cell, every atom, every single existing thing. The 8 year old child method is the way I attain knowledge. "Why", repeated after every single answer. Leads to a new question, followed by another answer and so on...

Do you think that it would be ignominious to reveal your emotions, let's say, in a book dedicated to that end? In disguise, it would be quite a tale.

Yes, that was my intent, apologies for not making it obvious.
I too fit in the INTP category, which is disturbing since my personality has nothing to do with it.
Not in the letter term, but in lesser things. For example, I am terrible at math.
Trying to guess, ADHD?
That feeling that you are permantly out of touch with reality leading to questions like "what's the point?" are quite dangerous, and that's the line we're walking here.

About my novel, the theme itself is a bit abstruse. Deals with the meaning (or lack thereof) of the human nature an *mother* nature in general. It takes place in an unnamed country, and we see the world through the eyes of a child who can percieve the lap between reality and non-existance. The lad tries to find a reason to live since his childhood, knowing that nothing matters in the end.
I can't quite qualify it. But as for motivation, I think the child I was erstwhile, travelling through the world due to my parents unstable economical issues...my only friends were books and quick movies until settling down once and for all. I questioned life itself since that tender age, so I guesse the child is a deeper reflection of myself. Quite cliché, but I put on a personal touch.

[Anonymous No.2195397]

>>2195395
Is*
Dammit.

[Anonymous No.2195401]

>>2195395
Guess*
Boy, I was in a rush.

[None !GdJA7kwHSQ No.2195407]

>>2195394
Just to assert a point, only go to Rahan Wood itself.
If you want to experience something else entirely visit a place called Ballyboggan graveyard.

Afraid I have to take leave now.
Loved this thread to bits.

[Anonymous No.2195409]

>>2195395
Haha, mine is quite similar but in the future, I don't want to give it away though, but the themes are quite similar to yours. I believe I may be a bit more narcissistic however, as the personification is essentially , well literally, the epitome of humanity. It sounds bad but it makes sense the way I am going about the novel.

I have ADHD, yes. Just recently started adderall, I like the results so far, I don't use it all the time but it is hard to tell if I lose any benefits of ADHD when using adderall. I think I lose a small amount of critical thinking, and it essentially puts blinders on so I just focus forward. Very good at math however.

How is questioning what the meaning of anything dangerous?

And yes, I also questioned everything with why at a young age. And still do. I found that questions with no answer have more meaning than answers.

And would presenting my feelings be ignominious? (googled this one, great word)

No, I do not fear shame or even feel it as far as I am aware, I just do not want to lose the genuineness of my writing. I have a problem with altering the truth for a more favourable outcome, so I am trying to become more... constant, as I believe being so adaptive to environment is unhealthy. Whether or not my writing would change upon being observed is questionable, but I would rather not take the risk, as of yet.

[Anonymous No.2195412]

~ "Missing" by George Swede ~
----------------------------------------------
M SS NG

Thiiief!

[Anonymous No.2195414]

It Wasn't a Choice Not to Hold In the Awful

The zebra sits upon a hill of apples,
laughing for joy at his blessing and boon.
“Ang Lee will probably ask about his envelopes,
but ignoring him is so much easier than speaking.

He will also want to cash in on my fruit boon.
How awful! Worrying about Ang Lee and speaking,
when all I really want is to be alone with my apples.
Why is there so much more joy in fruit than envelopes?”

Upon seeing Ang Lee enter the room, without even speaking,
the zebra’s face falls towards the apples.
He is thinking, “Here he comes to steal my boon!”
But Ang Lee begins: “You needn’t worry about the envelopes.”

And that was that; he didn’t spend long speaking.
Silence, night, and fruit are all that envelops
all. And that was true joy: a zebra alone with his apples;
Ang Lee, saintly clever, transformed into a boon.

[Anonymous No.2195415]

>>2195409
Also I missed something extremely important, my novel also includes the observation of two different realities. Amazing to think that from two independent sources (well nothing is truly independent) that we arrive to something so extraneous, and meet in the same place, and have a conversation. It's absolutely mind blowing.

[Anonymous No.2195416]

we should never forget
how small and funny-looking we are
-like some dogs I know

[Anonymous No.2195425]

>>2195407
Rahan Wood is on the top of my "To Go" list right now. Hopefully in December I'll be able to step in that human malady empty place.
Taking notes, so you know.

Have a good one mate, great talking to you. May good be with ye.

[Anonymous No.2195427]

>>2195409
>>2195415
I understand, being a tad craven myself about posting my work/ideas here. 'Tis disturbing how much we have in common in this particular area.
On a sidenote about narcissism, that is probably the one good attitude everyone should have. I find mankind quite depressive now, always head-in-hand, crying that they are not good enough instead of acting according to their freedom.

I deal with ADHD in a different way. I avoid the pills and shoot in the direction of something more natural. Avoiding the line between hard drugs and recreational drugs, I take the light ones to sort my ideas. Imagine having a small bouncing ball in a confined space jumping around endlessly...now imagine that multiplied by 1000. That was my mind before, I couldn't sort my ideas, from the basic to the more complicated ones.

Well, the more you question the more you find out. After you reach a certain baseline, there is no going back. You discover more and more, end inevitably life and happiness start losing their meaning. Unless you struggle with that, and keep moving, you are bound to be miserable (permanently).

I must ask, did you find a way to *stop* questioning everything? Yes, I do let go sometimes, but my mind returns to that place inevitably after a while.

Ha, I'm a sucker for fancy, unnecessary words. But would you feel constricted if so?
I can't help in this matter, for it takes time for you to feel comfortable enough to actually show your work to the world. This took me approximately 10 years, so it's not a big deal...there are authors out there whom delayed their work for decades and decades.

My word, I am actually curious about this meeting of realities. The urge to ask is bigger than my self-control. I wonder if this crossed my mind before...

*Blast this 'field too long' rampage inducing bovine crap!*

[Anonymous No.2195428]

~Chronic Meanings by Bob Perelman~
--------------------------------------------------------

The phone is for someone.
The next second it seemed.
But did that really mean.
Yet Los Angeles is full.

Naturally enough I turn to.
Some things are reversible, some.
You don't have that choice.
I'm going to Jo's for.

Now I've heard everything, he.
One time when I used.
The amount of dissatisfaction involved.
The weather isn't all it's.

You'd think people would have.
Or that they would invent.
At least if the emotional.
The presence of an illusion.

Symbiosis of home and prison.
Then, having become superfluous, time.
One has to give to.
Taste: the first and last.

I remember the look in.
It was the first time.
Some gorgeous swelling feeling that.
Success which owes its fortune.

Come what may it can't.
There are a number of.
But there is only one.
That's why I want to.

[Anonymous No.2195431]

Thus now he knelt before the ruins
Cold of sweat, heat of flame
To vow the severed heads of those who brought the village to it's shame.
Those who plundered, pilfered, and pilaged lives
Would now accept the blame.

He would find them all with a mighty vengeance paid for in their pain.
Shah-jan, the king of kinds wore seven rings
And sixty feathers plucked from sparrow's wings.

Growing fat on the throne where he sat like a stone.
A man who has never known no hunger or shown no mercy
In promises broke like a bone.
And there he sat like a stone, in promises broke like a bone.

Dispersed about his people, rostam calls out for his equals
In thirst to rise and curse, exact the worst revenge on enemies to hang from trees.
The royalty must die like common beggars and petty thieves

Tomorrow they will find us
Oh god, hide the children

Those who rule against us will be murdered where they stand
Let our arrows rain from the sky to drain the blood into the land
If a mortal stands before us, strike him down with sleight of hand
And if heaven rides against us, then God himself must be damned

[Anonymous No.2195433]

Thus now he knelt before the ruins
Cold of sweat, heat of flame
To vow the severed heads of those who brought the village to it's shame.
Those who plundered, pilfered, and pilaged lives
Would now accept the blame.

He would find them all with a mighty vengeance paid for in their pain.
Shah-jan, the king of kinds wore seven rings
And sixty feathers plucked from sparrow's wings.

Growing fat on the throne where he sat like a stone.
A man who has never known no hunger or shown no mercy
In promises broke like a bone.

Dispersed about his people, rostam calls out for his equals
In thirst to rise and curse, exact the worst revenge on enemies to hang from trees.
The royalty must die like common beggars and petty thieves

Tomorrow they will find us
Oh god, hide the children

Those who rule against us will be murdered where they stand
Let our arrows rain from the sky to drain the blood into the land
If a mortal stands before us, strike him down with sleight of hand
And if heaven rides against us, then God himself must be damned

[Anonymous No.2195436]

Thus now he knelt before the ruins
Cold of sweat, heat of flame
To vow the severed heads of those who brought the village to it's shame.
Those who plundered, pilfered, and pilaged lives
Would now accept the blame.

He would find them all with a mighty vengeance paid for in their pain.
Shah-jan, the king of kinds wore seven rings
And sixty feathers plucked from sparrow's wings.

Growing fat on the throne where he sat like a stone.
A man who has never known no hunger or shown no mercy
In promises broke like a bone.

Dispersed about his people, Rostam calls out for his equals
In thirst to rise and curse, exact the worst revenge on enemies to hang from trees.
The royalty must die like common beggars and petty thieves

Tomorrow they will find us
Oh god, hide the children

Those who rule against us will be murdered where they stand
Let our arrows rain from the sky to drain the blood into the land
If a mortal stands before us, strike him down with sleight of hand
And if heaven rides against us, then God himself must be damned

[Anonymous No.2195442]

>>2195412
My word I laughed histerically at that.

[Anonymous No.2195444]

>>2195412
That...

Fucking brilliant.

[Anonymous No.2195446]

>>2195427
I don't thing you lose the meaning of happiness or life. I think you gain understanding and can even exemplify it, that being said I am not the happiest person, but not particularly depressed. Around others if I have patience I can be the joker, the life of the conversation, but I am not sure if I feel the life myself. But for the time being I can convince myself that it's enjoyable to make others laugh and enjoy my presence. I often question the sentiment "ignorance is bliss", I have not found the right answer yet and don't really have a position. But I am trying to find out how perhaps there is a difference to illusory happiness and true happiness.

I don't think I can let go completely, but there are definitely degrees of experiencing it.

Complicated words are shorter, so yes it is great to not have to explain concepts with such long sentences with just a simple(complex) word with agreed upon meaning.

I used to do the natural way of it, it's exactly how you describe as well, a solid particles vs a gas is how I imagine ADHD. Adderall is a great focuser, but it definitely is not for everyone.

I somewhat agree with your view on narcissism. It is restricting to have to appear humble in order to avoid intimidating others, but it also holds place. It just depends on reward of being narcissistic I suppose.

[Anonymous No.2195448]

>>2195436
You've used an old-fashioned setting, and yet written it in free verse. I'm normally in favour of free verse, but you might benefit from rhyme and meter in this situation. Additionally, your rhymes lack ingenuity: stone, throne/flame, shame, blame etc... it gives a childish feeling.

>A man who has never known no hunger or shown no mercy
Double negative.

So yeah, my advice would be rewrite it in a form to suit the period tone/language.

[Anonymous No.2195450]

>>2195448
It's meant to be set to music.

[Anonymous No.2195452]

>>2195450
Oh clever, posting song lyrics in a poetry thread. I spent time writing critique thinking I was helping someone. Thanks for that.

[Anonymous No.2195453]

>>2195446
Oh and I just noticed that you asked HOW I stop questioning. If I am solitary and in my own elements I will listen to music and perhaps indulge in a drink.

If I am in a social setting, I just adapt to everyone else, and if I wish to not adapt, I listen to music.

It helps to just say "Life is beautiful, sometimes you do not need an answer to enjoy it" I can just appreciate the simpleness of life. I try to just imagine how strange it is to even exist and just bask in it. Of course this is fleeting, but it happens sometimes. I have not found a solid method yet.

[Anonymous No.2195455]

>>2195452

[Anonymous No.2195456]

>>2195452
Not samefag, but anon didn't say it was meant to be sung. Just that it was meant to be set to music. Jim Morrison used to recite poetry he had written while the band played music that fit the tone of the poetry. Listen to Break On Through, then listen to Celebration of the Lizard, and tell me you can't tell that one is a song and the other is a poem.

[Anonymous No.2195458]

>>2195456
>>2195452
No, it is meant to be sung. What I meant is that the odd meter is set to follow the music.

[Anonymous No.2195457]

>>2195456
My friend, you have missed the point. Anon was trolling.

http://www.songmeanings.net/songs/view/3530822107858704428/

[Anonymous No.2195471]

>>2195446
>>2195453
I'll post a screencap of something about the "reason to live" matter. The only thing that keeps me moving instead of throwing myself into the well-deserved severe depression waiting for me at the gates of desistance. A friend of mine (the one who captioned it) said that it was the most accurate thing ever to come out of my mind. Bi-presence, have we here? In a moment you can be the life of the party and in the next one seclude yourself in the darkest corner of the house just because a flashing thought hit you from out of nowhere...if that's the feeling, I can relate.
It's not that ignorance is a bliss, but the lack of awareness is the one true blessing holding us from having a 70% suicide rate in the world. You can be as smart as Stephen Hawking if you don't realizie how meaningless life truly is. Having the intelligence of Hawking AND the awareness of Nietzsche is another thing.

The aformentioned drugs actually put the said bouncing balls in order. I was able to grab them and give them shape, the way I intended to.

It is a pain...most people would agree that I could reduce my text to 25% of what they are now if I wasn't so damn picky...gah.

I actually tried Adderall back in February, but felt like a zombie afterwards. So stucking with the occassional monthly joint or so was a good decision.

The way I see it, if everybody was a full blown narcissist we would have an ecstatic society that wouldn't fall down because of their flaws. But that's just me, I can be wrong.

Ah, music IS my refuge from other elements (besides literature).
I put many of my questions and over-thinking syndrome to rest thanks to music...could listen to "Where is my Mind" every single day to cheer up if needed.

[Anonymous No.2195495]

>>2195471
Weird again, I did a music video in my high school video class to that song.

And I agree with your thoughts about why not. Perfectly sensible.

And no, thoughts do not intrude on my ability to socialize, in fact I have found it a good conversational starter. I usually skip small talk, if they don't like talks with substance I don't like the person since they're boring.

I don't think you've ever been in contact with an actual narcissist. The difference is that we can take a step back and realize that with our accomplishments whether or not they are "great" we are no better nor worse than the person who finds their happiness in something extremely simple. Narcissists will believe in absolutism, not relativism. This raises a lot of problems, but if you perceive those to not be significant, that's equally as reasonable. I think the identification that one has flaws, and then fixing them is more important than believing to be flawless.

I also disagree that awareness would lead to mass suicide, that was my belief as well, but I believe awareness to be something else. I can link you to this one thing that is very obscure, and I had a great trouble deciphering what they were talking about, but it is interesting none the less.

Bit of a read though although this is the reading section so you probably won't be that aversive towards it.

http://www.etresoi.ch/krishnamurti/time/7.html

[Anonymous No.2195537]

>>2195495
Boy, the coincidences won't stop tonight, will they now?

That "why not" routine actually keeps me moving. No more self-doubt thoughts creeping in, no regrets, nothing holding a man back...I believe it is a step closer to freedom.

I ment the "life of the party" thing as an example, although it did happened to me a couple of times. I am not, by all means, shy or anything of the sort. But sometimes I can't help myself and my minds starts to race off.

I love myself, probably in an excessive way. A very "douche" thing to say, but having high auto-estime is good, despite feeding the ego and habilitating it to a major fall. However I do believe that if given enough freedom, time and reference levels people would eventually lead mankind to a utopia instead of dragging it down to an endless pit of decadence. But this matter is subjective, and if not taken from the right angle it could lead to wrong conclusions.
I am a supporter of the "you can learn something from everybody" point of view. And it is true, no matter how intelligent or stupid, young or old and other antonyms that can cross my mind, everybody has something to teach you:
>I think the identification that one has flaws, and then fixing them is more important than believing to be flawless.
This was yours. Thank you for that.

I didn't make myself clear on that matter, apologies again...I like to lead people so they can draw their own conclusions, but sometimes I do it too I surreptitiously. My point about awareness is the same one of Dave Wyndorf's about mushrooms: "Americans have been so suppressed for so long that given that kind of freedom they would tend to abuse it".
Being always in favor if transparency, I can agree that everyone should know the truth. But I think that we can reach a consensus about the aformentioned truth being, at times, overwhelming.

[Anonymous No.2195539]

Sadly this signals my departure, after all, it is 4am here. Unfortunately I won't be able to finish the read today, but I put a bookmark on the sucker. When I wake up in a couple of hours, during my morning coffee I'll finish it.

'Twas good talking to you comrade, it's not often that I have the chance to discuss such non-frivolous themes in such a relaxed manner.
Take care mate, may good be with he.

Post Scriptum: if you reply, and if the thread lives by tomorrow, I shall respond.

[Anonymous No.2195557]

>>2195539
Jim...i never thought of you as a poet, just a lucky drunk.

still envy you though

>>2195319..caught you jim.. trying to copy nick drake's style huh...now i've totally lost respect for you

[MousieMousie No.2195707]

Time to clap - by mousieMousie

The cat was drawn,
By fish heads
In the alley,
Towards the shadows.
Where, crouching patiently
For night to arrive, saliva
Glistened expectantly
For the engagement 
Of teeth and artery
In matrimony
Smiled the cat
Till death do us part

Somewhere glass broke.

[Anonymous No.2195709]

>>2195707
broken up prose.

[MousieMousie No.2195726]

>>2195709
Probably - by mousieMousie

There probably deserves to be
A full stop or a comma somewhere
Like a leaf and a branch = a tree
A complete sentence is prose not poetry.

Returning with my shapened axe
I hack and hack and slash to chips
Each sentence into little bits
Without letting the story lapse

Into complete stupidity
I dive.

[TheGrandPoemer No.2195744]

Mousie, mousie

Rattish radish
Grown in my vermin-laden garden
Eden, it's grown again
Time to harvest, to cut down, to destroy

From Fern Gulley to Fraggle Rock
The storm rolls in
And blows and swells
It steams generally, in a general
Stormish way, storm-like, stormishly
Take shelter, Rattata
Take aim at your vermillion den
I will sing a canto, for your Kanto
Region
Travelling, bent low, asunder by
This scattering storm
Will it ever end?
Will my time ever come?
There are times when I wish it would
My failing to catch em all
Assaults both my pride
And my general grammitude

[Anonymous No.2195753]

>>2195744
The world needs more puns like this. Everything is subjectively too serious or objectively too hysterical

[Anonymous No.2195767]

When my hands and veins
grow into faint specters,
my patience edging for dusk
and his shallow twilight ember.
when my fingers crave
the light lofty embrace,
of your shoulders,
your face,
your sharpened, delicate frame-
fitted with grace by winds
envied by the squalls of summer.
when my heart wanes,
to cull trust
from beneath shrouded a hood,
a majesty of melancholy
bones misunderstood.
when my eyes seek out-
out from murky waves
that burning clouds
benign and plain forgo to
cry out in ghastly display,
without me
the sun sets anyway

[Anonymous No.2195773]

a villanelle. Needs much tidying if any so choose to help me butcher it for a while. bookmarked, going to sleep for now.

Apathy is an artist death.
Held beneath a tensed frame,
Painted anxious by ageless breath.

A spread among youth has us left,
Hungered hands float on to disdain,
Apathy is an artist death.

Over pen’s and page’s behest,
are those fed on the timeless wane,
Painted anxious by ageless breath.

Entered coal-hue vines, thorned, with regret,
Carried on stemmed bones as the same,
Apathy is an artist death.

Dilapidated caves of vessels outstretched
Each season of eyes lowered in shame,
Painted anxious by ageless breath.

Although the sun rose, no light was shed
Truth was to eternal as thorns were to maim,
Apathy is an artist death,
Painted anxious by ageless breath.

[Anonymous No.2195782]

beyond the shredded verdant veil of wooden limbs
which hug the tortured spines of rocky hills

where the long-drawn skin of the ever-placid plain
shrugged it's hips and spilled into the sky

the heaving hearts of mountains guide the course of wind
which in it's keening howl comes passing by

with sharpest hands to clench the rosy-fingered dawn
and drag an Ida sigh across the spires:
the exhalation of a god

[/lit/ needs a Rose Thread No.2195786]

>>2195753
Just doing God's work, son.

[Anonymous No.2195791]

>>2195786
Praise be, brother.

[MousieMousie No.2195794]

The grand poem err
On storms over blown
Shown, shawn marino
Bend over, new Zealand calls.

Greener pastures await
The prick of your pulpits feet
Storm forward brooding, broodily, broodishness
(to be so bold to sample your reflection of narcisis)
Hail,
Europe lies beneath our boots
Muddy, tightly laced
Production stamped in china
Careful hands, pin holes dripping
Bloody nonsense.

[TheGrandPoemer No.2195802]

>>2195794

My face when
I would have started out a parodying poem
So ponderously, so portentously
As to say, if you'll please
The Grand Poemer has erred
Just slightly
But just understand, MousieMousie
If that is, as I'm led to believe,
To howsomever conceive, your real name
Assuming it's not an assumed
Misnomer or nom de plume
Or nom de post
Or Stephenie de post or plume
Or fig; figuratively, see fig. 1, literally

Fig. 1 is as follows, so slowly, so toxically
And titillatingly tittering torturously:
I have engaged in a poemic warfare
Just the other night, if I'm not mistaken
T'was a gentleman's quarrel, in the first
Then did subsume to some terrible samefaggotry
And your champion, your one and only
Poemer
Did only just escape
With his pride unscraped, unscathed
So just understand, MousieMousie
Miserly, in misery, mysteriously
Or so it seems
I do not wish to start shit, rub a clit
Or dick or tit in the club or on a spit
Or spit or speak until I remit
The sin I did commit
Unless of course this was also
In jest, I'll ingest this injustice
And will return as merely your humble
fellowpoemer
Here on /lit/

[Anonymous No.2195811]

I hate poetry and I hate your poetry.

[MousieMousie No.2195813]

>>2195802
To err to travel and inbetween
Forget the words to the perfect joke
Ringing bells on the costumed jester
before the king with extended smile
Smiling at the gilouteen for other necks
Of slower turtles
But I only mock and offer soup, warmed whisky
And blame the other chefs
If the putrid smell offends,
Desert unfortunately is figureless
A mess of jelly unset, and with regret
The only gelaenous substance got
Flushed, royally.

The other night not a peep from me
As I slept when the house was busy
In the walls waiting
To pick at the crumbs left on the floor
sensuous Smells seduce somber memories
Of deflated mamories
The cow was already milked.

If not in jest
What have we left?

[Anonymous No.2196217]

Gyldenlak, før Du din Glands har tabt,
da er jeg Det hvoraf Alt er skabt;
ja før Du mister din Krones Guld,
 da er jeg Muld.

Idet jeg raaber: med Vindvet op!
mit sidste Blik faar din Gyldentop.
Min Sjel dig kysser, idet forbi
 den flyver fri.

Togange jeg kysser din søde Mund.
Dit er det første med Rettens Grund.
Det andet give du, Kjære husk,
 min Rosenbusk!

Udsprungen faaer jeg den ei at see;
thi bring mig Hilsen, naar det vil skee;
og siig, jeg ønsker, at paa min Grav
 den blomstrer af.

Ja siig, jeg ønsker, at paa mit Bryst
den Rose laa, du fra mig har kyst;
og, Gyldenlak, vær i Dødens Huus
 dens Brudeblus!

[Anonymous No.2196224]

I am the Immortal Faggot,
Not often sought,
My level of faggotry,
Makes men cry,
I try to write gay poetry,
But it comes out shit.

[Anonymous No.2196604]

How safe am i posting my works and artist name on /lit? Should i stay anon or link to my deviantArt account so you can check my poetry in general?... I'm mostly on /b so i'm a little bit scared i'll get spammed on dA

[Anonymous No.2196606]

>>2196604
No one wants to click a link to see your poetry.

[Anonymous No.2196616]

>>2196606
You've got a point. Though people would still be able to find me. That's what i'm afraid of

[Anonymous No.2196624]

>>2196616
No one gives a shit enough to find you.

[Anonymous No.2196637]

Ok then,

Metamorph (in progress)

This change, this vital transition, 
Of seven suns the fourth's twilight
This unexpected fruition,
Embrace old hatred with delight.

Becoming an abomination,
I'm all the things I used to judge.
They'll achieve complete domination,
Embrace who you are, hold no grudge.

(bridge) x2
Let go of the fear to
Let through the dark in and
The light that comes within this
Evolution that marks your being.

A metamorph in transition, 
Of seven suns the fourth's twilight
Old memories demolition.
Embrace old hatred with delight.

(bridge)x2
I'm caught in this
Metamorphosis
And I embrace this new
Definition of my soul


How's that?

[Anonymous No.2196783]

How can the fabric
Not rip underneath
The constant threat of
Desolation and abandonment?

The very meaning of this
World seems to be slipping
Away from my grasp. What
Is there left to look forward to?

As I lay Dying here, sit here,
Writing this poem, what will
It all mean if I am but
Alone and forgotten?

[Anonymous No.2196821]

>>2196637

>(in progress)

Fuck off, you fucking prick.