/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.23043118]

Poetry thread.
Post your own or any other pieces you'd like to. Discuss/critique/rate, have a good time [optional].

[Anonymous No.23043119]

I'll drop one of mine to get it started

[Anonymous No.23043174]

Shilling my blog-site. Currently have 13 previously untranslated French poets up, along with some original works. Many more to come.
>https://iliazo.wordpress.com

My original works are translated into both French and Greek.

[Anonymous No.23043179]

I eat I eat I watch TV
Taking a shower is not easy
I scratch my dry scalp
it hurts

[Anonymous No.23043245]

My nuts
itch

[Anonymous No.23043405]

What happened to the Substack anon. Does he still post?
Does anyone have a link?

Ty.

[Anonymous No.23043579]

After watching Kurosawa
I took an hour long shower
Drank some milk and went to sleep
Under two layers of bedsheets
I would feel the warmth and safety
Tired like I'm aged 80
But that is just my default state - how I've been feeling lately

Suddenly the urge to pee
Starts to overwhelm me
And my bladder starts to plea
Since its size's equal to a pea
But that's just his opinion, man
So I politely disagree.

Before you ask - I peed the bed
So what? I like sleeping in wet
That's the stance that I take
And I am proud of it

[Anonymous No.23044317]

>>23043405
I'm not sure which one you mean, but if you search "substack" on an archive it should give you a pretty manageable list to check.

[Anonymous No.23044418]

Thereth wereth a boarde callth /lit/
wereth morothe collthe and bit
shareth ye peening wyeyth
Shakespeare

[Anonymous No.23044471]

Dancing to your own beat
By the waterway
Making it your own
I see, I see,
I spy the walloped riders
Coming to reclaim their honor;
I see the kings fallen to disrepair
scrambling to their throne
Fixing nothing
Breaking everything

You must’ve seen the dirt
Caught beneath my nails
Else, you wouldn’t have run
From such a dirty sight
Do you know why?
Why it’s even there?
I work for you.
You don’t even know my name.
But I bleed and bleed like a stuck pig
Every wound cleans me out
And I’m stone again.

Weak breed of people
That’s what I say.
Disreputable and bare
Of any admirable qualities.
Throwing themselves into the waste
To find a single treasure
And when you do
It’ll tear itself amongst you,
Like the holy fire cupped
In our calloused hands.

I would roll on my back
If I knew claws did not await me.
I would bathe in the sun
If its glow would humor me.
I would kick-back against kicking it
With people kicking me like nothing.

Dancing to your own beat
By the waterway
I see, I see,
I spy the swivel in your eyes.

[Anonymous No.23044764]

>>23044471
Hey anon, I really like this.
You sound world weary.
Too tired to be properly mad though.
But not tired enough to surrender to the madness.

Can you tell me more about what the holy fire means to you?

[Anonymous No.23044891]

>>23044764
Thanks
The holy fire to me is that single divine spark of creation all humans have inside. As the universe splits this holy fire gets split into smaller pieces with it but it’s still there, just a small little flicker. W4s

[Anonymous No.23044981]

To Paint a Water Lily

A green level of lily leaves
Roofs the pond's chamber and paves

The flies' furious arena: study
These, the two minds of this lady.

First observe the air's dragonfly
That eats meat, that bullets by

Or stands in space to take aim;
Others as dangerous comb the hum

Under the trees. There are battle-shouts
And death-cries everywhere hereabouts

But inaudible, so the eyes praise
To see the colours of these flies

Rainbow their arcs, spark, or settle
Cooling like beads of molten metal

Through the spectrum. Think what worse
is the pond-bed's matter of course;

Prehistoric bedragoned times
Crawl that darkness with Latin names,

Have evolved no improvements there,
Jaws for heads, the set stare,

Ignorant of age as of hour—
Now paint the long-necked lily-flower

Which, deep in both worlds, can be still
As a painting, trembling hardly at all

Though the dragonfly alight,
Whatever horror nudge her root.

[Anonymous No.23045014]

you wanted a poetry thread
what you got was this one instead
I recycled a verse
it couldn't be worse
and now it is stuck in your head

[Anonymous No.23045427]

>>23044891
Beautiful. If I might extend your metaphor a bit, I do find myself chasing the flame as it were, trying too hard to harness the creative force. It's heartening to think that I needn't try so hard to feed it, and that it flickers with insight on its own if I let it do its own thing.

[Anonymous No.23045623]

>>23045427
It’s heartwarming to me that it stirrred something in you
Feel free to share what you’ve written, brother.

[Anonymous No.23045716]

>>23045623
Heavens, well I don't have anything finished yet, but I can drop a WIP or two. I'm pretty into lyric style at the moment, but refining the rhythms and rhymes is proving tricky.
Here, I have one I'm still putting together about life, death, friendship, and estrangement.

Surely this can't be it.
All there is to it.
That we could pour so much into each other,
And then just vanish.
Our book just snaps shut, and what's left is this,
A bundle of fast fading memories.

Never again would our minds trade touches,
Nor would our hearts ever sing together again.

I refuse.
Refuse to live a life where you're just a moment.
I want to keep fresh, forever, those memories.
I want to hold them till I can hold nothing else.
Better yet, I want to hold you, my friends.
Hold you again, and cross paths in the street.
I want to see you, and dine, and talk, and trade lives.

I don't want to look back and say 'that's all we had.'
I need to look forward to the next time we've planned.

You'd think that by now it'd be easy for me,
But it's not, so I won't.
I won't say goodbye.
Not till the day that one of us must die.
Reluctantly then I'll slowly let go.

They say it's for lovers, but I say it to you.
Come back to me friends, come back while you can,
You'll find me standing with arms open wide.
Life's been so cold without you by my side.
There's a place for you all, deep in my heart.
So if it please you, till death do us part.

[Anonymous No.23046026]

Penis In
Penis Out
Penis In
Penis Out
That's what it's about

[Anonymous No.23046238]

>>23045716
The fact you have a theme that resonates in the poem is good for a wip. I would just say try to slim it up and liven it up a bit unless you’re going for a different tone. Good luck

[Anonymous No.23046245]

I get it up
i look to the shadow to my side
I sigh
my mind goes blank

[Anonymous No.23046445]

Huge vapours brood above the clifted shore,
Night o'er the ocean settles, dark and mute,
Save where is heard the repercussive roar
Of drowsy billows, on the rugged foot
Of rocks remote; or still more distant tone
Of seamen, in the anchored bark, that tell
The watch relieved; or one deep voice alone,
Singing the hour, and bidding "strike the bell."
All is black shadow, but the lucid line
Marked by the light surf on the level sand,
Or where afar, the ship-lights faintly shine
Like wandering fairy fires, that oft on land
Mislead the pilgrim; such the dubious ray
That wavering reason lends, in life's long darkling way.

[Anonymous No.23047163]

bump

[Anonymous No.23047990]

Breath exhales
from my nostrils
and for a moment
I am Aware

[Anonymous No.23048398]

>>23043245
Unironically good

[Anonymous No.23048413]

>>23046445
Wow did you write that? I wish I were that good. T_T

[Anonymous No.23048599]

>>23045716
I think there’s a way to be flowery while also being strong. I don’t like the idea that “being vulnerable” requires being entangled in the weeds of emotion, thrown back and forth, never pushing forward. This poem was written by a weak human being. The theme of rumination over minute social issues is common, and it’s going to stay popular for a long time, but that doesn’t mean it’s any good.

This sentiment is all throughout Nietzsche, but my favorite (and directly applicable) writing about this thematic trend comes from Bukowski, in the poem termites of the page.

the problem that I've found with
most poets that I have known is that
they've never had an 8 hour job
and there is nothing
that will put a person
more in touch
with the realities
than
an 8 hour job.

… (read the full poem online)

poet (?):
that word needs re-
defining.

when I hear that
word
I get a rising in the
gut
as if I were about to
puke.

let them have the
stage
so long
as I need not be
in the
audience.


This is the only Bukowski poem I have ever read that I really liked. Be strong. Have self respect. Have courage! I miss my friends as well, but I don’t have to write it like this.

The lamp fades as our paths split.
You unto the unknown, me unto the same.
Years may pass, but not our glib.
We will come together once again.

Over hills and rivers crossed
Along winding curves through night and day.
Apart, forever, these days long lost
Our nascent play sits far away.

Someday, we will meet again.
It will not ever be the same.
Our travels will have made us men,
Glory waits for us to claim.

I was a bit harsh before. I miss an old friend. Thanks for your theme, it helped me compose the above two stanzas

[Anonymous No.23049029]

Long
Hard
Ejact'd
Softness

[Anonymous No.23049698]

>>23048599
No offence taken. I know that I'm an overly sentimental person, but that what makes my perspective mine, and yours, well, yours.
I'm no soldier, I can't be Sassoon or Wilfred Owen, but what I can be is me, shamelessly displayed.

For what it's worth, I'm glad the frustrations at my verse helped you put yours together. It reads neatly.
>>23046238
Yeah, there are lines that could get trimmed out without losing much, rather, gaining pace. It's sad work killing your darlings, but it IS the work.

[Anonymous No.23050758]

bump

[Anonymous No.23051468]

11 O'Clock, 11 O'Clock,
It's almost 11 O'Clock in Bongland
Scouse Kippers Toad-in-the-hole
Bangers and mash
Beans on toast
What shall I dine for lunch?
Perhaps I'll just have some faggots
and a dessert of lardy cake or scone

[Anonymous No.23051497]

>>23044471
This is very good. I'll need to reread it, but if you aren't published, you should try to submit to a publication soon.

[Anonymous No.23051512]

>>23044471
after the first stanza, I was like, woah this is really good, I should write this guy and tell him that

But then I read your second stanza here and it's like some meh heavy metal song

*cue up the metal band as the singer screams*
You must’ve seen the dirt
Caught beneath my nails
Else, you wouldn’t have run
From such a dirty sight
Do you know why?
Why it’s even there?
I work for you.
You don’t even know my name.
But I bleed and bleed like a stuck pig
Every wound cleans me out
And I’m stone again.

But the rest of it's alright, by the time I read the 4th stanza I was thinking maybe I should write this guy and encourage him. But decided not to. Can't believe these people were impressed
>>23044764
>>23051497
But it's what got me to finally write

[Anonymous No.23051588]

>>23051512
You haven't read enough poetry, and you are rude. I can't think of anything worse than that to say.

[Anonymous No.23051608]

>>23051468
>dine
>lunch
I always thought what you have for dinner is what you dine on?

[Anonymous No.23051721]

Plap
Plap
Self Love
Empty

[Anonymous No.23051910]

Crazy Iris
Crazy iris
Lay in full bloom
Along the water’s edge

Lucid colour
Certain detail
Every line in place

Lay down my sheets now,
Only in earnest
Through scattered sunshine
Would I believe in Hope?

Tepid siren
Floating aimless
After a heavy storm

Tainted iris
Lay in full view
Along the water’s edge

Lay down my sheets now,
Only in earnest
Through faltering sunshine
Would I believe in Hope?

[Anonymous No.23051968]

>>23049698
The poem I posted initially was shit. I spent like 3 hours refining it yesterday into 4, four line stanzas, 10 syllables per line. I’m going to finish it in two days. Without seeing what you wrote I wouldn’t have been able to put my thoughts together. Also, your poem is better than my initial draft, and I can see that now. Glory waits for us to claim? Christ that’s cringe. I was trying to dig out a feeling but I stopped before I’d really unearthed it. Thanks again for your work.

[Anonymous No.23052528]

Innocence
Defiled
Menopause

[Anonymous No.23052713]

>>23051497
Thanks, havnt yet but I’ll try to see if anything works out
>>23051512
Is it St anger tier? Cuz if it is, no editing required

[Anonymous No.23052721]

I lacerate the thesarurus
I am a radier verborum
I use polysyllabic words without judgement because im a pseud
the superfluous and abjected entities steel their hards against my google brain.

that's so deep. no one has ever felt like me, filled with the excrement of 21st century pop music.

[Anonymous No.23053215]

Black
Poor
Bodies
HATE?
LOVE!

[Anonymous No.23054254]

bump

[Anonymous No.23054313]

My existence is a Thorn
Yet there is no scorn
I am free

[Anonymous No.23054317]

Caesarion's sun shines silent out the darkling mind of womb
Caesarion comes like lightning to my dark surrounding room
Speaking through blot's black leaking true light of mine
Seek and do not stop seeking until you find
And that sigil silent hangs above me til this day
And I vigil blinded search again the word to say
About the secret that I seek with seven silent signs
A fountain secret that I seek in heaven's pliant lines

[Anonymous No.23054430]

Of 'Of', and Of "Of 'Of'".
Because,
I once said
And I also once said
Which is why today
I don't say.

[Anonymous No.23054452]

[Anonymous No.23054530]

unspoken longing

I want you to end me
your pale, slender hands, cradling the knife that rends me
with a solemn gaze you hold me close
as you kiss away the blood that descends me
maybe together we could pretend, that in another life this didn't have to end
mirror of my sorrows, why were we doomed to be so morose?


this is the first poem i've ever written and i don't have anyone to share it with.

[Anonymous No.23054562]

>>23054530
Female hands typed this post

[Anonymous No.23054577]

>>23054530
Women will literally choose a sexy, gruesome death over confessing that they are madly in love with me. It's all so tiresome.

[Anonymous No.23054852]

>>23054530
Stopped reading after "I want you" btw

[Anonymous No.23055780]

Bump

[Anonymous No.23055787]

>>23054530
What was the inspiration for it? Please do tell. I am curious.

[Anonymous No.23055805]

Cuando el Cosmos cumpla su Destino
y a todos llegue Universal el Juicio
¿Qué llevaré al tribunal divino?
La añoranza vergonzosa por mi vicio

Desnudo de culpas, con la infamia
de odiar a Dios por mis dolores
Tronos severos mostrarán la llaga
que a Cristo cortó como a las flores

Pero al menos, por un instante,
¡antes del Golpeo del Martillo!
Sentiré que onions yo quien es juzgado

Mi alma sentirá así importante
al ver que tan portentoso Estrado
observa al obstinado en ser chiquillo

[Anonymous No.23055811]

>>23054530
22 year old girl wrote this post

[Anonymous No.23055821]

>>23055805
>onions
what the fuck with autocorrecting
that verse says
'sentiré que onions yo quien es juzgado'

[Anonymous No.23055826]

>>23055821
what the fuck again
'onions'

[Anonymous No.23055850]

>>23055821
Kek, spics get what they fucking deserve

[Anonymous No.23055895]

>>23055821
It was good though
>t. barely speaks spanish but it sounded nice

[Anonymous No.23055938]

>>23054452
Second draft. I haven't slept in 3 days, fyi, thanks to you.
///////

SORCERESS
To love her is to suffer a thousand blows,
Gasping for air with a bloodied nose.

Pining for a lick of her thorny lips,
Her sweet embrace, a tremulous kiss.

To love her is to whip her tender flesh,
Her hurt abliss, throbbing fresh.

We drown in a river run red with sting,
Darling, you're mine, my crimson plaything.

[Anonymous No.23056154]

Infinity; cannot be finite.
Finity; cannot be finite.
Modern mantra: The universe is infinitely finite.

[Anonymous No.23056280]

Draft 3. (Final?)
///

SORCERESS
To love her is to take lot's fiery blows,
Smelling sweet scents—despite a bloodied nose.

Pining a lick of her thorny lips,
Her soft embrace, a tremulous kiss.

To love her is to whip her tender, rosy flesh,
Her hurt abliss, dripping—throbbing fresh.

We drown in a river run red with sting,
Darling, you're mine, my crimson plaything.

[Anonymous No.23056488]

>>23054530
I wrote this inspired by yours. It's called passing birds.

I feel fits of frightful burning in my breast—
This binding, bashful beating on my chest—
Unknown, unspoken, word-unbroken longing,
Stayed and stilled by solemn fear of wronging.

I know Not this nothing that I plainly seek—
Perhaps, a painéd thought that "you're unique";
Foolish yes, for a fickle heart so strongly
Yet so bashful still— to feel so wrongly.

And again, I knew you not, nor you knew me—
Yet still I, foolish, vainly think of thee.
No matter— I'll always run by break of day,
So like the passing birds we fly away.

[Anonymous No.23056585]

I open my buttocks
on the east London Love Locks
belching out a fury of flatulence and gas
staying a while, holding open my pimply ass

[Anonymous No.23056609]

what devil walks the crooked streets at night
scaring the town till everyone dies of fright
flesh falling from the bone onto rotten streets
thousand year old stench of hells mouth and feet

[Anonymous No.23056627]

Paseo imaginario
-
Son muchas las veces que paseo y siento que estamos unidos
Aunque nos hallemos distantes, te encuentro en mi alma a cada paso
y así vamos juntos andando entre los matorrales
ascendiendo el monte por el camino escarpado de tierra,
y alrededor nuestra
la multitud de florecitas coloridas en profusión de perfumes suaves
transmite con su esencia una leve caricia aromática en la nariz
como un aderezo sobre el primer plato de follaje húmedo
y tu presencia es como la ternura de las hojas que toco
pues si no fuera por el anhelo de ti, no me molestaría en tocarlas,
y estaría perdido en la ladera sin la compañía de los pétalos...
Vuelvo la vista abajo, y una inmensidad arbórea invade mis ojos,
que se fascinan abriéndose al mirar las nubes y las casitas blancas del
antiguo barrio al otro lado de la ladera,
iluminadas por rayos dorados con el celeste puro de la bóveda etérea
y el fugaz pasar de los pájaros oscuros
haciendo malabares con el viento,
en el imprevisible jugar de las bandadas.
Suenan ladridos y campanas a lo lejos, llegando a los oídos con la
claridad acústica del valle profundo
y se escucha un riachuelo de agua clara
donde un puñado de sapos se agolpan en cúmulo
haciendo ondas delicadas de reflejos brillantes en la superficie
y en los laterales del sendero salen al paso piedras y troncos
donde se esconden dibujos de pintores que dejaron su legado sencillo
en el espíritu de los solitarios aventureros del sosiegoAsí, entre la tranquilidad de las plantas,
pienso, con un leve pensar que apenas suena como voz,
en esa forma de estar en el mundo, reposada,
que es mirarlo, dejando a los pensamientos
evanescer imperceptibles,
dejarlos en vaporosa fugacidad temporal
y anhelo vagamente nada concreto,
como quien bebe sorbos de agua
sin temer que pueda terminarse...
Entonces, juego a buscar
ese silencio de la existencia,
ese darse cuenta del movimiento,
el flujo de sensaciones que manifiesta la realidad,
y sonrío imaginando con una curiosa travesura
los vaivenes y conexiones de mi cuerpo enlazado con el cosmos
y experimento la dichosa euforia de ser parte del universo,
criatura sensitiva.
Y fundidas en un abrazo de miríadas fractales
veo las hojas de los árboles, los jirones y algodones de nubes,
la tierrecilla y el polvo del suelo,
me parece percibir las cabriolas del invisible aire turbulento
y, respirándolo sin esfuerzo,
me colma de substancias neurotransmisoras
que son el regalo que la química de la naturaleza brinda
a los pequeños momentos en que un afortunado mamífero
puede disfrutar con el mostrarse real y completo
de que a cada momento hay algo que impulsa la materia,
una limpia energía brillante,
tímido poder que llamamos belleza

[Anonymous No.23056897]

>>23056488
A crude mockery of verse and metre sprinkled with pseud alliteration, devoid of depth, fancy and metaphor.

Stick to divination and celestial observations. You're good at it—the reason why I found you hot in the first place.

Women can't write poetry. Poetry is beauty. They can't create beauty because they are beauty incarnate themselves.

A woman trying to write poetry is like a guitar trying to play itself.

>Ooh, I'm shy
>Ooh, I'm scared
>Ooh big bad world, I'm a teeny tiny thing

Not my first rodeo, baby. These are all code for, "Chase me harder, Daddy."

I'm done, though.

I'm done chasing you. We both know that I own you outright. You've never felt this way before and you sure as fuck aren't going to feel this way ever again.

If, perchance, another man comes along to set your heart aflutter like I do... well, go with him.
But the odds of that happening are laughable. And you know it. You have zero leverage.

Submit, or perish.

You know where and how to reach me. I wasn't looking for love on this godforsaken place but I fell for you, somehow.

Come to me when you've accepted the cold hard facts. Come to me begging. Come to me on your knees, pleading for forgiveness. Then I'll see.

Farewell.

[Anonymous No.23056916]

>>23056897
O_______O
I'm a dude and I have no idea what you're talking about. Still, nice story and thanks for the biting critique. I'm no poet, of course.

[Anonymous No.23056956]

>>23056897
What's the story behind this? Greentext?

[Anonymous No.23057159]

A wash a wave
spinning
where will it end

[Anonymous No.23057188]

>>23051588
He's not wrong and it's constructive. It does read like that. For what it's worth, I think it's a great metal song but not great modern poetry.

[Anonymous No.23057396]

Film club

I did a quantitative study on the relation between movie taste and sexual partners.

They scowled at me and I had to leave.

I don't think they would have beaten me but sure

Ever since.

I have been having wild dreams with Schopenhauer sitting pensive at my bedside.

Says Descarte won't speak to me anymore and Kierkegaard wants to slap me.

He's my only friend.

Agrees that women haven't heard of Rivette so why sleep with them.

It disgusts him.

I say that was the only group that accepted me.

The days are absurd like a sunday dress on a mistress.

Malaise of work and sleep.

I can't focus to watch films, not even Truffaut.

I type schizo ramblings on imdb but I can't afford electric.

I could have been a revolutionary, a real fighter.

I still pray. I pray that when a human chooses to engage with me

That I wont turn my head in bitterness and malice.

I have lost grip on my weight and I smoke too much.

I have disdain for the drug users, the mad and the drunks.

You must be sober while watching Brakhage, Snow and Bay

I'm mostly alone, there's a woman who lost her son, who visits me.

Her son was a footballer,
a real happy lad with no political affiliations.

He loved someone, it was beautiful.

I loved torrents of Fellini and Vlacil.

He's dead and I'm alive.

Now I'm her surrogate son.

She touches my knee and I hit her.

She didn't want to watch La Notte so I screamed.

Schopenhauer is back.

Says film club doesn't miss me and you're ready now.

For the squalor streets and the desolate cinemas.

For the cheap whorehouses and the deadening silence of the lonesome

I see. I see.

[Anonymous No.23057787]

Sachlichkeit

Melt the whole of it
Freeze it and turn it to glass
a Thick corset fasten, oer’ empty air
Tighten it
Run circles of straight lines
Waves lap
mingled as laces over themselves

irony falls into sincerity
Cut it away
For sake of the word
Forsake it
Cancel it out If you want it at all

Dry air wrings out the humors
Balance alone found in the alps
surrounded by mutts of the middle
Fegefuer, Der Zauberberg

Aristotle would have mutts of us all
same as the Buddha

Cut your mouth from its tongue
Pivots and kungs middle path,
Throw them away
Into the coming on
Into the mingling dead
Join them in styx
Pray they dont break you
half breed shades
As they have me, In the mingling waves

[Anonymous No.23057836]

Brutalia est
How's you day?
It's all a jest
Rest, now in the hay

[Anonymous No.23057892]

>>23056916
>>23056897
>>23056488
>>23054530
Come on, I'm literally dying to know wtf this whole thing was about

[Anonymous No.23058095]

>>23054562
>>23054577
>>23055811
im sorry frens but im a man

>>23055787
>>23056488
>>23057892
i would prefer to keep the inspiration a mystery, as i feel that it doesn't put the poem into a box and limit any interpretation. i will say though, that this came from an extremely depressed and lonely place. i also really appreciate that you were inspired by something i made, and that i was able to see what you got out out of my poem by seeing it reflected in yours. it was fun to read and made the whole process a lot more fun and fulfilling for me so thanks.

[Agrim No.23058198]

Draft 4. Never falling in love again.
//////

SORCERESS

To love her is to face
Fate's battering blows.
Conjuring of the stars—
Or a path I chose?

Pining for a kiss from her—
sweet, rosy, thorny lips.
Her mystic, raw embrace,
Brings a quieting, tremulous bliss.

To love her is to whip
her tender, lissom flesh,
Her wounds lay abliss,
dripping honey so fresh.

We swim in a brook run red,
run red with bloody sting.
Siren, be mine always—
Be my crimson, playful thing.

[Anonymous No.23058207]

>>23058198
>>23056280
>>23055938
>>23054452
BPD relationship?

[Anonymous No.23058290]

>>23057892
What is it like being so fucking dumb that you can't put 2 and 2 together? You don't need to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out a lover's quarrel when you see one.

She conveniently becomes 2 separate "men" on an anonymous board as a plausible deniability tactic. Anyone with an IQ above room temp though can gauge that those poems literally read like how chicks write.

This other poet, who has some creative merit, although he has a long way to go, calls her a "sorceress".

Obviously, he fell for a nutjob and a compulsive liar. And then flipped out because he figured her attention whoring wasn't going to come to an end anytime soon. Good for him I say. Bullet dodged.

Bitches be crazy.

[Anonymous No.23058302]

>>23058290
What are you talking about? Who is "she"?

[Anonymous No.23058378]

>>23058290
wtf are you talking about kek

[Anonymous No.23058415]

>>23054562
>>23054577
>>23054852
>>23055787
>>23055811
>>23056897
>>23056956
>>23057892
>>23058207
>>23058290
Literal schizo samefag, holy shit

[Anonymous No.23058425]

>>23058415
You included me in a few of those but yeah it looks like a psycho.

[Anonymous No.23058691]

diarrhea trickles down my leg
the TV begins to cut out; I frown
I post on /lit/, call OP a fag
straightening up to receive my crown

[Anonymous No.23059662]

Bump

[Anonymous No.23060691]

Sailing over decades worth of seas and mountains.
And you wonder why your vessel breaks.

The holes, the stripped wood, bends and cracks;
worse yet, the sound it makes.

Not for a while, once there was a time you would reset your course in line.

But often simple action falls before the ease of wondering, how well things might go in one's mind.

Time to time, you lean forward and take the reigns.
But the scattered reefs of your mind forget to go away.

[Anonymous No.23060700]

Just don't
I'll open
Aggggh
It hurts
Don't.
More

[Anonymous No.23060703]

>>23043118
Primogeniture

It lacerates my throat with tender nuance
Pin-prick test strips of what this really is
Every first kiss is sucked up by vacuum hisses All award ceremonies diluted with the
virulent piss of that
bone-eroding essence-owning orgiastic interstice.

Of course respites come and go
but I know it when my teeth sprout lighthouse lamp-tops
and scan a cluttered maelstrom ;
Holding doors open for smiling vessels with full loads of cargo
I curse their putrid, fickle smiling
It was never meant for me, no more than manners dictate,
but why would it ever be?
Why would I poke holes in other’s life-rafts because mine’s lost at sea?
I know it, too, when the school bell rings
and from my fishtank world I suffocate the
dawdling prawn,
no oxygenated condensate can
invade, resist, or penetrate
the collapsible stock barrage assault
of smoke serrated yawns.

When I aggress the stasis
When crowded elevators reveal the mouse
When Raskolnikov ventriloquizes my park bench nightmare
In the cluttered maelstrom
When I wish good fortune on a store clerk and mean it with the intensity of tears
That’s when I know.
You’re just a primeval marionette
swaying on a silk woven noose
yet you’re just as much a part of me as any lighthouse glow ever was
I’ll never understand it
I’ll always feel it in my
sweaty palms
My deferential leash
Schopenhauer spoke of a “nihilating” force, the nothing noths
You’ve nothed me to the edge of myself
And I’ll climb that wirithing gallows pole to whatever spider hole is left

[Anonymous No.23062069]

>>23060703
A lot of things going on in this poem that I like. It's hard to describe. Some of the imagery and metaphors are lost to me, but I think that's ok. The poem has enough of an intuitive logic to it that sustains it (which is important in this type of lyric, confessional poetry). The last stanza works well and does a good job concluding the poem. If I can critique anything it is that there is danger in the overly abstract, and that the reader might get lost in it. Metaphors must be use with upmost care I think.

Favorite line: "

[Anonymous No.23062077]

>>23062069
"When crowded elevators reveal the mouse"

[Anonymous No.23062356]

Might Mountains
Leer at lief lakes

[Anonymous No.23062650]

in this pitiful university
the nerve center
pitiful smoking and eating
the sky a pale and puking sawdust
I read
I ate
knowing that the "I" was pure invention
uttering nonsense that mattered to me alone

[Anonymous No.23062664]

But as they left the dark’ning heath,
More desperate grew the strife of death.
The English shafts in volleys hailed,
In headlong charge their horse assailed;
Front, flank, and rear, the squadrons sweep
To break the Scottish circle deep,
That fought around their king.
But yet, though thick the shafts as snow,
Though charging knights like whirlwinds go,
Though billmen ply the ghastly blow,
Unbroken was the ring;
The stubborn spearmen still made good
Their dark impenetrable wood,
Each stepping where his comrade stood,
The instant that he fell.
No thought was there of dastard flight;
Linked in the serried phalanx tight,
Groom fought like noble, squire like knight,
As fearlessly and well;
Till utter darkness closed her wing
O’er their thin host and wounded king.
Then skilful Surrey’s sage commands
Led back from strife his shattered bands;
And from the charge they drew,
As mountain-waves, from wasted lands,
Sweep back to ocean blue.
Then did their loss his foemen know;
Their king, their lords, their mightiest low,
They melted from the field as snow,
When streams are swoll’n and south winds blow,
Dissolves in silent dew.
Tweed’s echoes heard the ceaseless plash,
While many a broken band,
Disordered, through her currents dash,
To gain the Scottish land;
To town and tower, to down and dale,
To tell red Flodden’s dismal tale,
And raise the universal wail.
Tradition, legend, tune, and song,
Shall many an age that wail prolong:
Still from the sire the son shall hear
Of the stern strife, and carnage drear,
Of Flodden’s fatal field,
Where shivered was fair Scotland’s spear,
And broken was her shield!

[Anonymous No.23062681]

Tranny tranny, seething Janny
Set out towards words to bust
Yet all they find is Chuck and Banny
Alone to pay the toll

Where is Chuck if not for Sneed
He receives no payment for
His acts atop on gamer's throne
His ass is blasted still

[Anonymous No.23062843]

Fresh translation of QT French poète maudit Stanislas Rodanski. None of his work has been translated into English before. This is the very first. Support a /lit/izen.

https://iliazo.wordpress.com/2024/02/11/the-mystics-halloo/

[Anonymous No.23062960]

my lips are sealed by silver strings
tight lips with unseen gossamer
holding back the things
just under mouths queer tremor

far and away is the mind
when her memory unwinds
colors bright now pale
into a stark gray scale

silence is the friend of infinity
when it has grown so frail
from thoughts of lost affinity
Id sooner fall to sheol

then speak of my hearts misgivings
questions of life never ending
rather have my dark abyss
before take my final lurch
i could stand upon the perch
and spitefully piss

[Anonymous No.23062974]

my lips are sealed by silver strings
tight by unseen gossamer
to restrain the things
just under mouths queer tremor

far and away is the mind
when her memory unwinds
colors bright now pale
into a stark gray scale

silence is the friend of infinity
when it has grown so frail
from thoughts of lost affinity
Itd sooner fall to sheol

then speak of its misgivings
doubt of life never ending

rather have a dark abyss
which before a final lurch
would stand upon the perch
and have a piss
>>23062960
ten timees better faggot

[Anonymous No.23063017]

A poem I just found in my old note book

Behind me nothing but failure
Ahead suffering unpreventable
And here I stand in the middle
Not a man but a wooden puppet
Moved by invisible strings
Dancing to silent music
Was I ever a man at all?

[Anonymous No.23063399]

>>23062069
Thanks.
I wrote that when I was young and my dad suddenly became an extremely erratic alcoholic in my late teens after having been sober basically my entire life. It destroyed our family for a while and i was thinking about how I both resented him and loved him, about how I was both heartbroken and resolute to carve my own meaning out of the situation.

>poke holes in others life rafts because mines lost at sea

I've reread the poem many times over the years so the impact doesn't really hit me anymore, plus it's my own work so idrc; but when I reread that I always get a little emotional, bc that really was how it felt. I loved and needed him but he wasn't there, and instead of truly hating him, I recognized he was probably as lost and scared as i was.

[Anonymous No.23064155]

>>23046245
>>23049029
>>23052528
>>23060700
>>23062650

ShakespeareMilton

[Anonymous No.23064243]

germ,
you stake callter of proportions most,
i meep with you
in the cold hot swarthysome abyss
of merry mooning,
its an ounce of us
we tree dear bug roll.
all orb is the affection and you my handler, great sad ear defender of the fuzzy means, meals of sustenosh promising softer rings of the rolling stomach at mew time.
how each time
in these enviorns silver,
i find
in your galejaw
shoesh
a quiver

beaut,
bloddlip
let
halifaciius remerit
dont jaw blog
so quick
muh muh muh
mistress
mesquite and tender enough to delve an inch of ol mesh in there

swell capciatator
dictress of the slick arraignment of fun
da da dum dum dum dum dum

my, sharp inhale,
my

[Anonymous No.23064562]

Juggling grenades on a promenade
Suicide slave unchained on a getaway
Stumbling 'round with erratic gait
Steady passersby look the other way
Racing up the lane on this fatal day
Airborne 'nades fly in the solar rays
Picking up the pace to a better place
Hand to hand lands the hand grenades
Til he runs too fast and one of them drops
Now that's the one whose pin he first pops
Then he pulls all three, now wait and s-
Boom, he's gone

[Anonymous No.23064976]

>>23064155
What the hell does this mean?

[Anonymous No.23065592]

In the damp sick
In the dough
In the chewed on chew of faces
of expensive car owner faces
chewed ons of the world:
I do not fetishize the truth
I poke around
Holding my bland sandwich
in my non-dominant hand, I think
what could be worse, I think
what could be as bad?

To feel the thing you want
to feel and not to care

To be a wet road
in the dark

I'd like to thank
Toyota, like to thank
my parents, esthetician
Ritalin Clonazepam internet TV weed
my beautiful dresses

[Anonymous No.23065596]

In the winter, breeze unnerving,
I sit alone, in my cabin.
To the windows frost has appeared.
My house is low, but very dear.
...
...

[Anonymous No.23065765]

>>23064976

[Anonymous No.23065798]

>>23064976

[Anonymous No.23065891]

All that melted cheese
was excited to eat it at first
woofed it down with ease
today: boy my ass hurts

Agonizing pain to push out
big hard ball stuck in my anus
I pushed I stood and shook about
now my ass feels like I pushed out a bus

[Anonymous No.23066097]

Confessed to her my heart is a bird dancing
under the midnight sky, the stars were
eyes looking down at us walking by
feel ten feet tall, id do it again and again

=========================================

my heart is old and useless,
it smells of rotten flesh and roadkill
my heart is a baby tooth,
i want to pluck it from my chest so i may grow a new one.

please take my heart from me, or i will toss it off a bridge
like a useless couch, or a broken television
into the murky wine colored waters, into the darkness of the sea
so that its recollections remain gone and buried

[Anonymous No.23066108]

>>23066097
What happened bro

[Anonymous No.23066151]

>>23066108
lol, i just noticed the two poems are about hearts, i just randomly grabbed two poems out of a notepad.

but anyways, yeah, girl i loved is married and had kids.

[Anonymous No.23066195]

>>23066151
You're also married and have kids, r-right?

[Anonymous No.23066221]

>>23066195
no, im useless neet hikki schizo that studies poetry because i have nothing better to do

[Anonymous No.23066440]

Walking back alone
I think to a time last year
When there was not one

[Anonymous No.23066550]

>>23066221
Is buying an anthology of poems a good way to study poetry? I was thinking of getting one of the Library of America ones

[Anonymous No.23066604]

Odysseus had travelled long and far
To see his love and hold her to his breast
As she did too in suff'ring wait his scar
That fated sign the gods had justly blessed

As I have waited long and travelled far
But love like embers lost within my breast
Have simply burned into this mental scar
The empty longing of a life un-blessed.

But I can bring nothing to my defense;
Its not the gods or any else at fault
But my own self who with contempt intense
Do bid approaching love with sudden "Halt!"

[Anonymous No.23066622]

infinite your design is peak
it's quite a shame you are so weak
you protest but then take shadows cock
then ask why I'm hard as a rock?

He's mine OK he knows his place
under that mask I'd kiss his face
fear and pain is what you'll get
infinite is my little pet

headpats headpats come here now
then some pegging don't say ow
your fluffy tail belongs to me
your yelps of pain they bring me glee

[Anonymous No.23066633]

pork prepared with knowledge and skill
years of revision for a $3 bill
contrast to nights in opulent din
where money reigns but taste wears thin

thesaurus wielded like truffle and grater
misunderstandings just make it better
I read a poem and roll my eyes
"serendipitous"? come on you guys

from their tower scholars debate
how to best elucidate fate
compare it to a blind man's cane?
perhaps to wind on a weathervane?

idk to each their own
to me the best comparison
is being blown

[Anonymous No.23066647]

>>23066550
the way i studied it was by using the computer and writing down notes.
I would find random websites and wiki articles and write down the things that stood out to me.

just type in "elements of poetry" into the google machine

i also researched many free essays you can find online written by poets in the past on poetic theory

[Anonymous No.23066681]

>>23066622
So clone yourself with phantom Ruby
I'll grab and squeeze your perky boobie
infinite my sub youll do as I say
oops our knots touched I guess we're gay

[Anonymous No.23067388]

Roses are red
I peed in my bed
Laying in it for a while
Forcing myself to try to smile

[Anonymous No.23067517]

>>23043118
shackles born of flesh & blood
dopamine collars, hunger-pain chains
slavery systems in our veins
stretching back cross eons unseen
to before the world began
back when angst & bliss were new
when fuck & kill were all to do
& everything everywhere knew
this one life now is all thats true

[Anonymous No.23068440]

Oh lark des Clock
life is like a dark rock
Burning anus
is they finest
Oh lark des Clock

[Anonymous No.23069374]

Wet
Pink
Bred

[Anonymous No.23069659]

Sissy
Clitty
Bussy

[Anonymous No.23070236]

Into the thunder I go
read to date Ivanhoe
no need no need
everything's on fire
pure desire

[Anonymous No.23070882]

l'appel du vide

that howling abyss
cant help feeling that something is seriously amiss
teetering on that edge and hoping that i fall
maybe i should give in after all

trapped in this prison
that is clouding my vision
so to escape this reality
i will gouge my eyes out with a grotesque brutality

i cannot help but feel that i am on death row
as with each passing day i hear the cawing of a crow
maybe i could distract myself with creatine
as i continue marching towards that guillotine

the chaplain can see that i am in dire need
so he calls up the lord so as to intercede
but he said that he hasn't called back still
and i have a bad feeling that he never will

[Anonymous No.23071250]

dismemberment; funeral

no one can know through what silence she moves. for
day-dreaming nights and night-dreaming days, for
cold, steaming pints and slight, beaming rays.
she was lost, gone to the air, was really gone.
she couldn’t be compared to a tree, too
lively and unpredictable in her movements.
none of the warm slow swaying trees are known for.
cats were chittering around her, speaking
their unknowable language
to one another

[Anonymous No.23071513]

Seed
Sown in a barren field
Homosexual

[Anonymous No.23071795]

>>23043118
Can someone explain this one? For context, the previous line is someone asking what sickness does he have.

[Anonymous No.23071849]

>>23071795
Peach blossoms are symbols of sexual desire.

[Anonymous No.23072053]

trouvaille


qu'avons nous découvert ?
un cadavre bohème ?
est-il mort de l'air
qui nourrit ses poèmes ?

-allons donc, constatez
par son ventre gâté
qu'il fut juste inspiré
pour seulement s'empiffrer.

à juger de son lard
rongé d'un tel noir,
j'eu dit qu'il eu crevé
de la peste qu'il revêt

not finished, it's supposed to be a dialogue between two men who discuss the cause of death from a dead body they found on their way

[Anonymous No.23072430]

Here's a poem/short story I wrote last night while I was drunk and sad. Don't expect to enjoy it:

I was born 39 years ago from the womb of this girl they had hung.
She was 16, and apparently, they had done so because they were angry she got pregnant or something.

I fell out of her onto the grass as they were getting ready to set her corpse on fire.
Apparently, the people who killed my mom had wanted to kill me too, but they decided against it.

I was born with fifteen eyes and no mouth.
I was born with six wings sticking out of my back.
I was born with nine fingers.
I was sold into the circus at a year old by the church.

Marlow’s Magical Mystery Baby is what I was.
Marlow was the guy who ran the circus.

I stayed in the circus for a long time. Until Marlow was arrested for beating a nun to death.
They put me in the orphanage after that.

When I went to the orphanage they rolled dice.
3 or below means I join the bad children, and 4 and above means I join the good children.
They rolled a 6.

They locked me in a room. I stayed in this room for a long time.
I only ever left the room to eat and to go see the bad children.
The bad children were in this big long hall.
Each child was grafted to the wall by their skin.
We would have to walk through the hall and spit on every child we passed.
The room smelled like old butter.

When I turned 18 I left the orphanage.

I met a girl one day. Matilda.
I didn’t talk to her.
I just saw her.

She was born with two eyes.
She was born with two arms.
She was born with ten fingers.
She was born with no wings.
She was born with a mouth.

I found myself walking to the store one day.
I saw her.
But I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t talk to her.
But she came to me.
She wanted to talk to me.

But she didn’t talk. She just opened her mouth.
This dark fluid began to pour from her open mouth.
Down her shirt and onto the ground.

Some thunder crashed, and clouds came.
They were dark.
It started to rain.
It was acid rain.
That’s the only type of rain in this place.

I tried to move out of the way of the clouds, but they seemed to follow me.

Before I knew it my skin was gone.
Reduced to a red sticky puddle on the ground.
Like a kid had spilled his ice cream.

The ground below me cracked, and we both fell in.
We broke our legs.

Matilda let out this screech into the air.
The sky turned red, and flaming brimstone fell from above.

Her skin hadn’t melted off like mine.
But it was beyond repair.
It looked as if she was wearing a shirt two sizes too big.

It was then that I knew that God didn’t care about this place anymore.

I wanted to get out.
But I couldn’t, because I didn’t have any wings.

[Anonymous No.23073146]

penis

[Anonymous No.23073642]

Où es-tu passée ma chérie?
Le temps t'a ravie à mes yeux,
La brume tombe sur eux deux,
Et tu voulais qu'on se marie!

Quels froids déserts et quels abris
Gardent la glace de tes yeux
Quelles serrures et quels noeuds
Privent mon coeur de nos beaux ris

C'est une tombe obscure et froide
Qui caresse ta longue mort
Et baise ton cou squelettique

Dans ce lieu, moi, cadavre roide
Je me coucherai sans remords
Près de ton corps mélancolique

[Anonymous No.23073723]

you put your left ball in.
you pull your right ball out.
you pull your pecker free
and you shake it all about.
then you poke the pussy
as you turn the ass around.
and that’s what it’s all about

[Anonymous No.23074432]

>>23073723
based

[Anonymous No.23074439]

>>23066633
A poignant critique against institutional poetry. The fine dish of "pork" with all of its work and grated-truffle amounts to little more than a tasteless meal for a $3 bill. The author also jabs at the poets in their ivory towers and their pointless debates on the nature of fate; cane or wind on weathervane? To the author, being blown. Is it as though you were a leaf, moving with the wind? Or is it a more 'profane' suggestion? That fate is like the culmination of an act which, with time, must messily end? Certainly "misunderstandings just make it better."
>>23066681
>>23066622
X_X
>>23067388
Roses are red
Anon peed in his bed
I'm watching him smile
As I poop a big pile.
>>23067517
Uhh... How barbarian?
>>23068440
I have no idea.
>>23070236
Sounds exciting.
>>23070882
Hope you get better anon.
>>23071250
Who died?

[Anonymous No.23075342]

>>23074439
>Who died?
ur mom

[Anonymous No.23075430]

>>23072430
Very interesting. Time to take your meds.

[Anonymous No.23075444]

>>23075430
I don't want to.

[Anonymous No.23075501]

>>23072430
I don't think I understand it but I like the imagery. I would read an entire book like this.

[Anonymous No.23075969]

>>23072430
I actually did fairly enjoy it.

[Anonymous No.23075999]

Anyway, here's mine:

Bush,
Opposite the tush,
if you dislike it,
then you best shush.
If you were standing on a cliff,
and if, if you sneered at bush,
I'd stand behind you silently and push.

[Anonymous No.23076121]

The bladed high heels of your God step on the heads of future soldiers.
Clinging like sugar to a wet spoon, the blood of a thousand slaughtered children covers your hands.

Your disgusting sweaty body reeks of sin, and your eyes are red.
This is your fault.

But you like that, don’t you?
You’ve done this time and time again.

A voyeur into a world you could have, but just can’t bother to actually take.
Instead, you stand here, a mix of blood and secretion at your feet.

The wet, wailing, wavering mouths of the children you could have had.
Silenced by the time you finish.

They warned you about this, but you didn’t listen.
Why does it keep you sane?

[Anonymous No.23076213]

Ed from five doors down waters his flowers every Saturday.
Ed from five doors down stirs his tea with the wrong spoon.
Ed from five doors down has old flags on his wall.
Ed from five doors down screams in his sleep.
Ed from five doors down spits in empty skulls.
Ed from five doors down collects old children’s toys.
Ed from five doors down keeps licking my window.
Ed from five doors down hasn’t felt happy in a while.
Ed from five doors down bought a gun yesterday.
Ed from five doors down has been wearing more layers recently.
Ed from five doors down stopped coming outside.
Ed from five doors down has been colder recently.
Ed from five doors down flayed himself in his bathtub.
Ed from five doors down keeps slipping when he tries to walk.
Ed from five doors down is slowly freezing to death.
Ed from five doors down can’t hold onto his mug anymore.
Ed from five doors down can’t do anything without pain.
Ed from five doors down scraped his eyes out last night.
Ed from five doors down can’t scream anymore.
Ed from five doors down keeps making these strange rattly noises.
Ed from five doors down has been sliding around the floor.
Ed from five doors down turned his skin into a coat.
Ed from five doors down listens to music every night.
Ed from five doors down started smiling again.
Ed from five doors down has been smiling too much.
Ed from five doors down only lies on the floor now.
Ed from five doors down keeps laughing.
Ed from five doors down stopped moving yesterday.
Ed from five doors down is gone.

[Anonymous No.23076592]

Walking in the courtyard,
Not paying attention to the people....
The birds triumph prematurely that
Spring has arrived.
Not sure what to do with my hands...
Sway them? Keep them stiff? Conceal them?
Conceal the left and
Flaunt the right? Maybe I should
Conceal the right and
Flaunt the left?

No, I must cross my arms to show that I remain reserved.
Keeping the head still, uncaught is one's self.
A hawk catches a sparrow mid-air.
I am met with hostile gazes from above and
Below. I look down to find that my body is oozing
Blood. and Sweat.

One fellow licks his lips while watching my every move
Profusely. His mouth waters uncontrollably at the sight of me
As if his saliva were weaving a silent, primal spell of predation.
I try to blend in with the guard rails beside me...
The predator loses sight of me.

I remember my therapist telling me that I'm prone to overthinking.
Think just enough to get one foot in front of the other.
Much like the sparrow, which considered each flap of its wings with just the right amount of thought?
I decided to give it a shot, and I let my guard down.
A pheromone is released into the air.
However, I cannot decipher its meaning.
The courtyard scurries, and its meaning is finally revealed
To me, by a venomous stinger through my chest.

[Anonymous No.23077023]

>>23076592
I like the part with the saliva.

[Anonymous No.23077497]

thoughts on dark places

Things get pretty radical in the dark:
rooms made vague by throwing
a scarf over a lamp are the exact
sort of rooms they invented drug abuse
in.

Dusk outside and the memory’s sunset
is burning brightly towards the night,
where it is dark.

Inside of me is dark,
I can see it when I close
my eyes.

[Anonymous No.23077654]

>>23076213
Great.

[Anonymous No.23077766]

Come in some paper
Come in some socks
Come in my pants while I
Come into class

[Anonymous No.23078092]

I'm alive
My penis

[Anonymous No.23078634]

>>23057396
anon this is ridiculously good

[Anonymous No.23079449]

Bump

[Anonymous No.23079878]

>>23043118
When all the poems have been read
And all the different words were said
And all the stories have been told
And trillions of copies sold
And all the renders have been made
Of things the world's yet to create
And when the songs have all been sung
And every master is outdone
And all the thoughts that one could think
Have long been thought by algorithm
When there's no longer night and day
For it's whatever you may say
When we abstracted things away
And words no longer forms convey
Will in this limbo light emerge —
Of human thought the brightest torch?
Or will extinguished be, at last,
And all that could be come to pass?

[Anonymous No.23079964]

>>23079878
Great poem and yes the industrial revolution was a disaster for the human race.

[Anonymous No.23080689]

Such pretty words until my hands were around her throat.
That bitch cowards romanticize, beneath me as my plaything.
I am not merely broken, but sharpened and bloodied.
All that makes men weak at the knees has submitted to me.

"What reddish horror are you?"
"Every foe is annihilated, I am what remains"

[Anonymous No.23081739]

bump

[Anonymous No.23083378]

Penis
Cock
Dick
ERECT
POWER

[Anonymous No.23083397]

Penis and Cock
ERECT like a Rock
Dick is Power
Reign will shower

[Anonymous No.23084378]

This has been pretty sub-par as poetry threads go

[Anonymous No.23084754]

I know it's a ridiculous question, but it seems I take anywhere from one to three hours just to write two four verse stanzas in iambic pentameter, and even then I can tell that there are many issues with how it sounds (that I want to fix) by the time I get it "presentable." How long does it take you guys to compose a poem?

[Anonymous No.23084844]

If I have to die,
I think I'd like to die in the spring
with the waxy green tulips bursting out of their bulbs,
with warm rays of light coming in from doors ajar,
with bird-song and butterflies lighting on my body
by the open window
in an open casket.

[Anonymous No.23085109]

ANGUISH
I feel ANGUISH
I don't like feeling ANGUISH
Whence this feeling of ANGUISH?
I'm anxious about my ANGUISH
Will it abate, this ANGUISH?
Other people don't feel ANGUISH
Do you feel ANGUISH?
I hope you don't feel ANGUISH
Begone, ANGUISH

[Anonymous No.23085110]

Shoulder, shoulders, sweet and creamy
I planted mines and I planted peas
Whether they kiss out remains to be seen

Shoulders, shoulders, heavy boulders
Prickly feet and thorny feelings
Exploratory hands like new fleet dealings
Skin scarred by shingle kiss and shingle kiss

He flung himself forward
So I must finalize new dealings and not crystallize old feelings

Looking forward
Yannis, Yann is
Yannis exploratory hands like new fleet dealings

Yannis, you wed my bed with your late night talks
And giant cock
Yannis quick
Reading determined, philolympian
Yannis in touch
And floating in space
Does he really exist, doth thou really live, Yannis?
Yannis, do you know?
Do you know the colour of the pearl which sprung from the cove of your questions?
Are you OK, Max, are you OK?
It shimmers delicately as light, because your own heart is round and precious.

[Anonymous No.23085116]

>>23085109
I call the poem 'Anguish' btw (lower case as majuscule seems a bit pretentious)

[Anonymous No.23085257]

>>23085110
Umm... What is this

[Anonymous No.23085264]

>>23085257
Text note 12/01

[Anonymous No.23085595]

>>23084754
Wildly variable. I've found that sitting down and telling myself "I will write poetry now" is rarely a winning strategy. Composition takes longer and I generally don't like the results very much.
I'm the most productive in bursts that usually happen very late at night while a little delirious. It seems like the subconscious brain is always assembling the framework of a piece in the background, and when it's finished I get a notice to write it out and fill in whatever blanks may exist. Your subconscious is better than "you" at essentially everything, so the more effectively you can leverage it, the better. The "flow state" phenomenon is exactly this, and people with considerable experience in a given pursuit can semi-reliably open that channel to the subconscious while they're working.

[Anonymous No.23085773]

>>23084754
>>23085595
don't listen to this anon he's some kind of freak you should write when you're sober and alert.

takes me a few hours to a few days to finish a poem usually, i tend to like to mull the words over in my mind for a bit

[Anonymous No.23086647]

why do you guys write?

[Anonymous No.23086654]

>>23086647
Cuz if we didn't we would die

[Anonymous No.23086656]

My First Poem:
They Thought Jesus Was Insane Too—
.
.
.
Until He Created A Religion Slaughtering Millions In His Name

[Anonymous No.23086782]

>>23086647
I want to express my feelings. Besides, poems let me put in hidden meanings to say things I normally wouldn't, keeping it undetectable unless one is familiar with the particulars of my life.

[Anonymous No.23087845]

>>23086656
The Aristocrats Thought Cleisthenes Was Insane Too Side with the Middle Class and the Democrats—
.
.
.
Until He Created A Political System and Ideology Slaughtering Millions In Its Name

[Anonymous No.23088640]

Shadows off-angle on squares towards
The pressed sun with script across: debted.
Forests flatten, animals unaware round in figure 8s
(Instincts affected, expired blood in their eyes).
A yip, a paw - the intricate useless lace -
Like churchmen found heretical in death
So eternally made difficult.

You and I are calm like dogs or wolves
In paintings. Blocked in, sated -
Fixtures ground beside the intricate imagined dead.
If Apollinare was born in Cleveland
Would Crane have stayed? Perhaps
They could have held hands
And still jump into the Cuyahoga together.

[Anonymous No.23089239]

>>23086647
it makes it easier for me to discern and compartmentalize emotions and imagery in my mind. it helps me to understand myself more, i think

[Anonymous No.23089257]

Poopy di scoop
Scoop diddy whoop
Whoop di scoop di poop
Poop di scoopty
Scoopty whoop
Whoopity-scoop whoop-poop
Poop-diddy whoop-scoop
Poop, poop
Scoop diddy whoop
Whoop diddy scoop
Whoop diddy scoop
poop

[Anonymous No.23090601]

I lay in bed and clinch my buttocks
Massaging my anus with them mmm
I think of Achilles, of Hadrian
Of sexy gay bars, and wet gay baths
Of the hot guy on TV grabbing his crotch
Then I slip my hand down and grab mine

[Anonymous No.23091322]

Morning
Evening
Night

...case CLOSED

[Anonymous No.23091341]

>>23043118
licking your fingers was the golden thistles
claimed by the foamy sea who holds your hand
behind your ear and abalone shell eyes, I see bursting noble missiles

quake did the land, as your hair entangle and expand
encumbering my vision and tattoo my ears
I hold you until we're ash, as the sun beamed we're we stand

[Anonymous No.23091378]

cunt
cock

[Anonymous No.23092314]

Bound by Theodore Roethke

Negative tree, you are belief
Engendered by an iron grief,

A variously compounded fact
Denied the favor of swift act.

With terrible precision, you
Can split an aging rock in two;

Yet in your dumb profusion there
Is quiet, positive and clear.

You are a timeless sorrow thrust
Beyond the dreamlessness of dust.

You are a bird, securely bound,
That sings the song of voiceless ground,

And builds a nest in sterile stone,
Yet breeds no kin of flesh and bone.

You are a bird denied, the blood
Of earth in flying attitude.

[Anonymous No.23092422]

>>23043118
I'm relatively new to poetry. I didn't think this one was amazing, but it was the first one I wrote that I kind of liked

The leaves rustle outside my window
And I'd better get up,
Obstinate in my search for some
Conversation with the rustling leaves

The leaves rustle outside,
And I wonder;
If I were ancient, a caveman,
Could I lay here for half the day
Just to hear them for a bit longer?

The leaves rustle outside;
If I were poor, would I still have time to rustle back?
As it stands, I can sit here and
If I ignore my human self, I can wait
And pretend that my hair is leaves too
And my body is wind running freely;
Rustle, rustle, says the leaves,
But I'm already gone.

[Anonymous No.23092446]

>>23092422
You do a good job expressing yourself in the poem. There are some stylistic choices that might be errors, such as repetition of the word "rustle," but it is all fine. You did a good job!

[Anonymous No.23092519]

>>23092446
Thanks anon! I tend to like repetition when it's used well so I'll keep working on it

[Anonymous No.23093585]

Do I dare?
I stare--
at the yummy white
Is eating something
That came out my penis alright?
Perhaps a taste....

[Anonymous No.23094089]

>>23092422
Nice work, the last stanza really got me, your phrasing is similar to mine. Try to expand that, and don't feel you need to write a certain way. I've tried writing on different poetry websites, but they become inundated with Victorian English, which no one actually speaks in anymore.

[Anonymous No.23094195]

>>23094089
Thanks so much, anon! I've been reading lots of books about poetry so I'm kind of relearning from the ground up. Still need to find my actual voice, but I'm happy with this start. I'll keep working at it

[Anonymous No.23094344]

My Love is like a bitter game of chess to me—
'Tis fraught with traps and poisoned pawns I cannot see.
I play these cold and calculating gambits too
Because I know not how to show my love to you.

Oh is there ever time that I don't desp'rate pray
For courage that I might this broken heart display,
And fear no curséd trap or poisoned pawn's attack?
Alas— I cannot bear the dagger in my back.

So I quit thee, I resign and now forfeit thee;
Let my longing heart despair and finally break me!
Just let my sundered soul to find its final rest;
And with no beating heart— no hope within my breast.

[Anonymous No.23094411]

My Love is like a bitter game of chess to me—
'Tis fraught with traps and poisoned pawns I cannot see
I play these cold and calculating gambits too
Because I know not how to show my love to you.

Oh! Is there ever time that I don't desp'rate pray
For courage that I might this broken heart display,
And fear no curséd trap nor poisoned pawn's attack?
Alas— I cannot bear the dagger in my back.

So I quit thee! I resign and now forfeit thee!
Let my longing heart despair and finally break me!
Just let my sundered soul to find its final rest;
And with no beating heart— no hope within my breast.

[Anonymous No.23094741]

Lately it feels like the movie is over
But the reel keeps on spinning sans film
The lights come up and I feel I've been cheated
But the price of admission was slim

I guess I can't complain
Nothing ventured, nothing gained
But I can't help but feel
Something's wrong

I would head for the door
But my feet stick to the floor
From confections
that I didn't spill

Lately it feels like my life is on repeat
Of a movie that I didn't pick
It's better than silence and sitting in darkness
But goddamn, that margin is thin

[Anonymous No.23094744]

A Paleolithic Existential Crisis

Tonight is one of those nights when I too am night.
I'm sitting alone,
Guarding the cave, protecting the sleep of the tribe.
For company I have only the whispering of the crickets,
The spirit of the fire dancing and leaping upon the wood
And the buzz of my own thoughts.

Today, even the star gods are hiding in their precipices,
Covered in thick, greasy clouds like the fur of a black bear...
It's darker than usual,
And the ancestors haven't spoken to me for days.

Tonight is one of those nights when I too am night,
And on those nights that are more than a night
I don't hear that old sadness in the howl of the wolves,
The rutting that they scream to a moon they will never possess;
What I hear is that other ancient howl,
The howl of thirst for my intestines.
There is no beauty in the song of wolves on nights like this,
When even in the bite of lice I feel the sinking of fangs.

On those nights when I too am night
The screech of the owls and the cry of the foxes
Sound like the agony of the children and the brothers
I saw dragged away and eaten alive by the lions.
Today I feel their cries piercing me from all sides:
It seems that the earth is incapable of retaining the terror of their bones,
Like rotting wounds that have to drool out pus.

On nights like this, nights when I too am night,
Even the rustling of the leaves sounds like the cursing of a sorcerer,
And I fear the migration of reindeer, bulls, deer, bison, horses and rhinos
- That vast river of warm blood, fat and marrow -
Grows drier and leaner with each passing season.

Tonight is one of those nights when I know I've been polluted.
It's dark, there shouldn't be anyone here with me,
And yet I realize now that there is someone else.
In the silence, thoughts are unable to hide:
The ancestors are mute, and there are things that are not me speaking in me.
I understand... It happened once again...
I see that the spirit of the gray marshes has taken possession of me.
I feel it oozing inside me, bitter as the sap of the pines.
Like frogs in the marsh, the spirit of the swamp has spawned itselft inside of me,
And now it is like an internal vomit that I cannot spit out.

This is that spirit
That eats the smiles on the faces of men,
That crushes lungs, throats and hearts,
That makes muscles shrivel, that makes penises shrivel,
That dries up the milk in women's breasts,
That sits on the eyes and expels sleep,
That sits in the stomach and expels hunger,
That makes the skin smell like something that pleases the vulture.

(continue)

[Anonymous No.23094748]

>>23094744

Spirit of fire, I'm very frightened of nights like this!
I fear those nights when I too am night;
I fear what the swamp says to me when I'm alone,
I fear it because what it says hurts my soul like a cut or a broken bone,
And I fear it, too, because I simply don't understand that which it tells me.
The swamp inside me proclaims
That all the earth, all the grass, all the water, all the wind,
That all the spirits of the tree, the river, the mountain and the thunder,
That all of us who are above the dust, and all the ancestors below the dust,
The moon, the sun, the sky and the stars,
That these gods and even all the other gods:
That everything and everyone is just the dream of one God,
And that this God is an infinite shaman, but blind and deaf,
A shaman who roars prophecies that do not exist even to himself,
Who intones the songs of existence without knowing that he is singing them,
Who decorates the caves of the abysses without knowing that he is painting them;
The universe is like the dream of a stone:
That's what the swamp inside of me proclaims.

O spirit of fire that crackles and snaps before me!
You only illuminate my face, you only warm my flesh,
For inside me I feel so much cold,
That it is as if the soul of the ancient glaciers lives inside my trunk.

It's starting to wind more strongly.
On those nights that are more than a night
The voice of the wind sounds like a visitor coming from a throat
Made of dead branches, dry bones and hawthorns;
On those nights when I am night
I think that whoever could decipher the language of the wind
Would understand the nightmares of all the generations of the frost
And the sadness that has inhabited every drop of rain that has ever existed.

Oh, ancestors! Oh, my ancestors!
My ancestors, you who have always been with me,
Speak to me again, my ancestors!
Echo like warm breath inside of me!
Play your flutes, your rattles, your drums!
Don't abandon me, growl inside me!
Expel this heavy, slimy, gray spirit from inside of my chest!

The birds are starting to sing.
The darkness is melting, morning is approaching.
When the sun rises, I'm going to visit Kargumel, the old healer.
Ancestors, help him make me vomit this evil out of me.
May the gods grant that today, when the sun has dried the dew over the grass,
The swampy mist inside me will also have evaporated into flight.
O night that is now thawing, I hope that when you return,
You will be only night and I will be only man!
That when we see each other again, O night,
You will no longer find me as a man with frost on the bone-marrow
And a ball of slime throbbing where there should be a heart.

[Anonymous No.23094991]

>>23094744
>>23094748
this is really great, anon. I enjoyed it a lot. thanks for sharing.

[Anonymous No.23095222]

OMFG. So mopey. Always so mopey.
Calls the funniest guy in the world "mirror of my sorrows".
Want to show me you love me? Stop being a Debbie Downer. A jaded and cynical bitch doth not make a dream girl.

Write one that's fun and sexy and romantic.
Most include these words (or variations): satin, heaven, dream, deep, swallow, hold, squeeze, soft, racing, inside, together.

[Anonymous No.23095228]

>>23083397
No one ITT has even come close to the masterpiece that this is. Says a lot about modern poets desu.

[Anonymous No.23095598]

>>23094411
The second stanza would be great if it weren't for that last line there. Lines 2 and 3 are especially nice, but it's sad that they're followed up with a line as lame as "Alas— I cannot bear the dagger in my back."

[Anonymous No.23095656]

>>23095598
My other option was "Alasー I'll always dread/fear the dagger in my back." but I didn't think dread and dagger worked well together, and fear would saturate with the previous line. Thinking back, I don't know why, because 'dread the dagger' now sounds fine to me.
I don't have any issue with it (maybe it is my limited skill that prevents me) but how would you have changed it?

[Anonymous No.23095671]

i listen to what i might expect;
a list of possible side effects,
too clouded in hypotheticals
to balance atop a pedestal,
too voluble for the quiet set -
it's possible it’s a side effect.
and i imagined i was bleeding out,
that always happens when i'm sleeping now.

[Anonymous No.23095679]

>>23095598
>>23095656
Thanks a lot for your advice, actually. I think
>Alasー I'll always dread the dagger in my back
Is much better after some sleep. Is this what you were thinking or does it read poorly?

[Anonymous No.23095704]

A tantalizing morsel;
a pyhrric victory.
Disgrace is made immortal
and etched in history.

[Anonymous No.23095728]

>>23095679
Yeah, I think it reads a lot better that way. I've been tossing it around in my head whether or not "a dagger" would be better than "the dagger", but no, I think it's fine as is.

[Anonymous No.23095739]

Anon's poem from 12/18/23, "The Mufti stirr'd his Memory"

[Anonymous No.23095746]

Ode to the Iron-Cutter

Anguriel!
Sate thirst of blood,
Rend hearts to flood,
Flesh falls to mud,
Our loss is nought.

Anguriel!
Unsheathed it sings,
The bitten weeps,
The coward leaps,
All it reaps.

Anguriel!
Your doom it tells,
Your kind befells,
Last breaths set sail,
Dusk prevails!

Here's to the Silmarilion's least famous famous sword. I imagine it would be said by the wielder as a magic mantra before and during battle, to control it, threaten the enemy and a bit o' boasting. Eol's other sword had this nasty habit of going sentient from time to time after all.

Even if its meh (and this is the first thing I ever wrote), I doubt Maeglin is much of a poet so it fits desu. Its slightly inspired from some anon's poem about the Vajra which I read here months ago but was too much of a retard to save, so in the impossible case you read this, thank you for kindling some small ambition in my uninspired self.

[Anonymous No.23096222]

You know who you are? You're Tiffany 2.0
The same giftedness, the same hubris, the same obstinacy, the way she would taunt me after digging her own grave as if it was me who was going to lie in there.

You might be pretty but I'm absolutely certain your beauty doesn't hold a candle to how gorgeous she was. She was ugly on the inside, too, though.

So you see, you're not even an original.
You're a fucking imitation.

Whenever I would offer her joy she would choose misery, just like you.
What happened to her, you ask? Who the fuck cares. Probably offed herself.

Not everything is about the stars and signs, you see. There's a lot to be said about someone's breeding. This ugliness is in your blood. You can not escape it. Cut open your veins to let it all out and you still can't escape it.

Perhaps your mother was a whore or your father was a degenerate. Did you even know him? There's something about your kind that is vile through and through. You're not a person, you're a black hole.

And yet there's something pure and childlike behind that grotesqueness that makes one want to salvage it, to save the poor thing held hostage by your wretchedness.

But like the fabled scorpion, you'll always sting the frog helping you cross the pond. Always. Like I said, it's in your nature.

Like a character in a Dostoevsky novel, you really are your own worst enemy.

[Anonymous No.23096294]

私かな
春季のように
去るべきだ

[Anonymous No.23096446]

>>23096294
わかれきてつくつくぼうし

また見ることもない山が遠ざかる

こほろぎに鳴かれてばかり

れいろうとして水鳥はつるむ

百舌鳥啼いて身の捨てどころなし

どうしようもないわたしが歩いてゐる

涸れきつた川を渡る

ぶらさがつてゐる烏瓜は二つ

[Anonymous No.23096495]

>>23096446
That was very nice anon, thank you. I've got to check other texts of him later today

[Anonymous No.23096608]

Linesome cattle gatewise dawning
Rindful mindless hateless yawning
Park that lark upon your lips
Chide the bideful clockwise trips
Brineful waters sneezing falling
Hangful rains so siezing bawling
Time to start upon your end
Paved the streets with traffic's send

[Anonymous No.23097024]

The tranny reeks inside the room
encumbered by ill mood of doom

The blackest cocks delight no more
Not even paired with whitest whore

He looks ahead and sees the rope
That hanging line his only hope

A tear upon his stubbled cheek
Perhaps this be his final week

[Desu No.23097515]

I found your old letters
It’s kinda funny how digital memory works as a safekeeper to our worst tendencies
You were saying you were tired of my ire and that’s why you were distant
& how could you open up to love,
as I was so choleric and
how you rejected me so much
because of that

Oh! How a third person could misinterpret those words
embellished with fifteen century-like
margin notes with commentary
saying
“please don’t take this the bad way!”
and stolen verses from Ezra Pound.

I was such a fool,
I remember on the phone listening to you
cry and scream and vomit and then
turning around and clamoring love,
then turning again & hating me
and telling everyone I was evil incarnate
but again, what to make of mid twenties
melodrama?

I commend your ability to manipulate time
as I stood there waiting
trying to push through
but my love, I’m well versed in crafting my own destiny
And forcing things open
No safe failproof
no cipher to be dismantled
even if for sacred brute force
I might be a demon
But even this wild beast came to realize
it didn’t really desire the affect
Of such a flaky person.

[Desu No.23097525]

La melancolía es para mi
Como un amargo regusto que
quizás ya no fisiológico,
persevera tan profundo en
el ojo de mi mente,
que el sabor lo siento ahí,
Impreso.

La melancolía, aunque no
en el pensar,
envuelve mi cuerpo con sus manos
Y me hace caer
Me agita con violencia
Hasta que mis pies ya no tocan el suelo
Como un amante adolorido
Me golpea una y otra vez
Y trato de no pensar en el dolor
E imagino que estoy en otro lado.

Llevo toda la vida corriendo
De no se qué

La melancolía,
Me hace odiar a otros melancólicos
¿Cómo no rechazar mi propia
Debilidad?
Si he debido y debo ser valiente
Si nací guerrero
Rojo sangre en flor.

[Desu No.23097561]

For Maria Callas


You can always deprive a woman
Of her utmost desire

You can always trade
passionate lovemaking
for the deep red screaming knife.

Turbulent and unlucky in love
Mars in detriment
Trying to make peace
In fight
Venus newborn unsure of its joys
Oh, you, muse
Clear and pure in suffering
so familiar and sad

I wonder if life
To her, felt as this big
violent whirlwind
she was trapped in,
as does mine
when no one is speaking nor singing
when my soul is as quiet as
the deepest wish.

O broken hearted muse,
comfort me as I mourn
You and I,
alone
It’s hard to really be
To want, to need
To accept and embrace
the need to be wanted, special,
flaunted, seen, shown;
Perhaps even
of wanting to be heard
and understood.

You knew full well
Someone else could take your place
Because you’re did not fit
Yet you loved
As your heart ached
The sun feels so comforting
As it reaches my face
I never thought
I’d make it this far.
Maybe I should devote myself
To other matters, Muse
Shouldn’t I?

[Anonymous No.23097659]

FOUNTAIN OF JOY

There once was a Bedouin maiden
crossing the vast expanse of the Arabian arid
Her feet weary, and lips laden
With a thirst so grand, her spirit buried

"O heavens," she fell on her knees to implore
"Must I wither so savagely?"
"A drop, just one, I ask no more,"
She prayed ever so candidly.

A fierce gust of red blew her timid form
Towards the east, then west, then west of south
She thought herself dead in that torrid storm
And gave in to nature's irate bout

She lay there, roasting in sun and grit
For hours or days, no one knows for sure
But when she came to, in a startling split
Her eyes saw bliss, and ears pricked pure

There, in front of her, gushed so richly
That sparkling, famed, fountain of joy
Surging with sweet waters bewitchly
Her heart aflutter, she yelled, "Ahoy!"

Crawling towards its marble sill
She muttered praises to the Gods
But before her palms brought up their fill
Her neck was trapped in shiny swords

"I've graced these lands for eons, little girl,
Never have I witnessed one in such plight.
Have all you want from my bounteous swirl,
But, first, you must plead to be quenched just right."

"I walk with my head held high, my lord,
It's not in my nature to beg or appeal,
Your waters, so plenty, sure can afford,
One sip for me—it's not quite a steal."

"A sip, you say?" chuckled the fountain so bright
"You can drink and drink and bathe and cavort.
I wish to see you cheery all night,
And in the morning you'll have six camels as escort.

The maiden sat still, lost in thought
"Agreed," she claimed with a grinning smile,
The swords and shields, they vanished—the lot
She got down on her knees, and stayed a while.

But instead of uttering the magic word "Please..."
She suddenly lurched forth into the pool
With her mouth wide open, she tried to seize,
A life-giving gulp of aqua—so cool

The fool found herself choking on sand
The fountain, instantly, absent from site
Her dying shriek still echoes in our land
On nights when the moon shines full and bright

[Anonymous No.23097980]

(i just write so when I die, i'll leave more of a mess behind)

When night arrives and lonely creeps in
I open a can of beer
It used to starve off the ghosts
Give me some relief
To put me down to sleep

Today there is no more ghosts
No pain to be felt
It is just me in a room
With a can full of grief
What a shame
the only thing that gave me joy
now is something I have to kill

[Anonymous No.23098259]

>>23043179
Cyraxx?

[Anonymous No.23098439]

We're not so different, you and I.

There's an ugliness inside me, as well.
It's my rage.
I can't escape it, either.

Blessed by the Goddess of love and the God of war—the warrior poet destined to fight evil in the name of love, unloved and unlovable.

[Anonymous No.23098444]

Roses are red
Violets are blue
I really really really
Can't stop loving you
=(

[Anonymous No.23098456]

>>23095222
>>23096222
>>23097515
>>23097525
>>23097561
Behold the schizo.
>>23054577
>>23056897
>>23058290
All of these are one single schizo that thinks his GF is writing poems to him. Get therapy my guy, you need in big time, more than your GF, if she is as you say. O_O

[Anonymous No.23098599]

>>23098456
Cute allegation.
I wish I spoke Spanish.

[Desu No.23098794]

>>23098456
Bummer. I namefagged because I wanted actual feedback. Now I realize I can just be lumped with some schizo anon has erotomanic delusions with.

[Anonymous No.23099258]

>>23098456
>All of these are one single schizo
We def can afford more than one schizo in the poem thread

[Anonymous No.23099774]

>>23094991
Thank you. You are very kind.

[Anonymous No.23099920]

>>23098456
Poor chap.
Imagine being delusional enough to think a woman is capable of love.

[Anonymous No.23100623]

>>23094411
Old timer here.
Sharing my two cents.

The way young people think about love is fundamentally broken. Love is not a zero sum game. Your lover is not your opponent. The way you describe your situation like a game of chess, you'll always be competing with your lover!
The way you frame it, there will always be a winner and a loser.
Love is like a game of doubles tennis. That's why lovers are often called partners. And the opponent is the entire world.

The ideal romantic relationship is a father/daughter or mentor/mentee dynamic where the man leads and the woman follows. Relationships fail because of two reasons: either the man is not ready to lead/is unworthy of leading or the woman is not willing to follow because she's too independent minded or wary and believes she knows best.
A good, capable man will abandon such a nag in frustration.

Unfortunately, for such a woman life can get very lonely and depressing. Hope it all works out for you. All the best!

[Anonymous No.23101608]

>>23100623
>The ideal romantic relationship is a father/daughter or mentor/mentee dynamic where the man leads and the woman follows
based and correct.

[Anonymous No.23101653]

ritual of the muse:

dance around a fire
wallow in its wretched glow
offer a sacrifice to the unknown
smell the incense in the raven night sky

chant and chant and chant
spill your blood on the floor
draw sigils on the bedroom door
have radiant women tear you limb from limb

write of a beautiful love doomed from the start
write of love so rare and secret
the warmth of our lips
once close now far apart

[Anonymous No.23101812]

bitch hates fun
she'll never learn
what a fucking nag
I pack my bag
can't teach dumb
won't get my cum

[Anonymous No.23101839]

[Anonymous No.23101841]

>>23101839
I was just thinking that same thing.

[Anonymous No.23101851]

Eat sand
Hot, crunchy sand
No water for you
The fountain is closed

[Anonymous No.23101949]

>>23101653

[Anonymous No.23101968]

>>23098439
What is this about?

[Anonymous No.23101992]

Homework first.
Re: 5222.

[Anonymous No.23102028]

>>23101841
>>23101839
>>23099920
>>23099258
>>23098794
She appears: >>23101992

[Anonymous No.23102037]

>>23102028
Look at this TMZ wannabe

[Anonymous No.23103181]

Let us save this dying thread to-day
With my shitty poem for a bump,
Though you may just cringe and run away
When you read this proverbial dump!

[Anonymous No.23103207]

>>23056897
This is the cringiest post I've ever read on 4chan, and I commend you for that because I've been around here since 2008. Kill yourself and date real people instead of discord kittens, faggot.

[Anonymous No.23103421]

Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,
Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,
Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,
One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne

[Anonymous No.23104318]

trips of truf

the digits, anon, they never lie
don't aks me what or how or why
numbers will, unironically,
save you as they done did save me

[Anonymous No.23104368]

test

[Anonymous No.23104380]

And there is dark
wide awake my inner
watches itself through kaleidoscopes
with glimmering hope for a light
warm warm light
just like a scarf when it snows
like a warm tear drop when it elopes
elopes my burning ghost

[Anonymous No.23104389]

>>23104380
my first poem

[Anonymous No.23104399]

I feel god
in their faces all yellow
do i see mirrors ?
showering canary mellow
and the eyes lighten up
and my chest melts
sometimes awake
sometimes asleep
all i hear is my name they repeat
I feel god

[Anonymous No.23104417]

It's colder than.a nipple on a witch's tit
Colder than a bucket of penguin shit
Colder than the hairs on a polar bear's ass
Colder than the frost on a champagne glass

[Anonymous No.23104624]

Be cardfull wat u wish for schizo anon

I recall that day- upon soft satin,
When the heart within my chest did flatten.
I remember what it felt like- heaven
When I'd stay a-longing past eleven-
Childish too, hoping that it weren't a dream,
Before I'd loud awaken to my scream.

The scars within me simply run too deep
And I can not but fear my terrors creep-
I truly wished I could this pride swallow,
But hereupon will I in tears wallow.
The love within me shall no longer hold
These words to you and I remain untold.

There is no blood within me left to squeeze-
Go! Leave and let my heart to final ease!
Really, you seem to think that I'll be soft
When you still stand and hold yourself aloft!
You won't find my heart with love a-racing
With the messages that I'm erasing!
Oh, there is nothing left for you inside-
Now you this lover's quarrel cast aside!

You still seem to think we'll be together-
But you know I've long since cut our tether.

[Anonymous No.23105217]

Went to café;
Stared at notebook;
I wrote nothing
For an hour.

[Anonymous No.23105401]

THE WIZARD & THE CRONE

My love was starlight and firebugs galore
Lilacs and lilies all covering the floor

My love was Vegas, her green satin dress
A room at the Ritz and a whole lot of mess

My love was a squeeze of her swaying, crescent hips
Pouring my love on her rose petal lips

My love was holding her close on cold nights
Strategic pulls of her hair and lovebites

My love was dreamy and deep like Mozart
Commissioned by heaven's department of art

My love was sun-kissed, aromatic and bloomy
Her love was fun-missed, traumatic and gloomy

Her love was death playing over and over
Shooting up heroin on a rum hangover

Her love was swallowing poisonous treats
Staying inside, printing forms and receipts

Her love was racing barefoot on embers
Smoke-filled Augusts and Gothic Septembers

Her love was a grey burlap, tartany shirt
Swatting my rummaging hand out her skirt

Her love was softly muttering at night
Summoning ravens and fighting daylight

[Anonymous No.23105478]

>>23043118
i left my home

i began walking and i did not stop walking for a long while after

i came across a large orange building built of brick and mortar

from the building came loud screams that lasted a second or less

the screams boomed through my soul and shook my body and then as quickly as it happened it was gone

and then it happened again, and it continued happening.

i began to feel an inclination to investigate, which i chose to indulge.

upon entering the building there were others. their heads swiveled like an owls

and their eyes met mine.

the screams were coming from deeper in the building, past a white corridor with rooms adjacent on every side.

i began to walk down the corridor, and their eyes followed.

the screams were louder now.

before me was a white door that seemed innocuous in every regard except the events unfolding behind it.

i gripped the handle and opened the door, and as light floods a dark cabinet recently opened, light filled the corridor and washed over my face.

before me was a vast expansive meadow. the screams had stopped, and with them my desire to understand where they were coming from. that seemed to matter so much less than it had moments before.

there was a man seated in a green lawn chair, and as i approached the screams, i approached the man.

as i entered his field of vision he swiveled his head such that his eyes met mine.

his eyes were green like the chair. his skin was kissed by the sun and his expression was entirely bereft of any sort of emergency or rush.

and then i heard the scream again, and as quickly as the sound entered my ears, the mans head opened like a box

brain and viscera coated my face and panic consumed my own, intact, brain.

i swiveled my head in the direction of the scream, and i saw another man, in a bright orange vest, holding a jet black piece of metal.

he pulled a tub on the bottom of the piece of metal, which ejected a red cylinder. he held the metal in my direction.

i left the orange building.

i returned home.

i laid in my bed, still covered in pieces of men who were no longer as i am.

i closed my eyes and slept.

[Anonymous No.23106879]

>>23105401
I like it.

[Anonymous No.23108258]

>>23043118
May flower, may fly
May fever makes may night
Mat believer marks may light
Maybe see her, might tonight
Moving master, master flight
Mincing mental moves mental height.

[Anonymous No.23108269]

Tie-breaking round for /lit/'s favorite children's books. Vote for your favorites here:

https://forms.gle/QuSzQ6KgfGSex9uq7

Related thread: >>23108191

[Anonymous No.23108270]

May flower, may fly
May fever makes may night
May believer marks may light
Maybe see her, might tonight
Moving master, master flight
Mincing mental moves mental height.

[Anonymous No.23108966]

wrote up a short poem after work. think it turned out okay - don't like that it's asymmetrical but I think it gets across everything I want it to.

I yearn for a forest cabin,
for peace there I can grow;
from the earth, plants and trees,
the earnest buzz of honey-bees:
I could rest there in its late spring glow.

My heart marches to the songbirds' drum
whose music marks the morn;
cicadas whine where crickets will chirp
in a rhythm daily reborn.

But as I step through
a barrage of brick,
steel, and flatlined faces,
the call becomes a cry
and the cry ceases.

[Anonymous No.23108992]

>>23108966
Neat. It reads well and I actually intend to move innawoods too.

[Anonymous No.23110127]

"fucks the blonde silly"
it wit tittle chill willy
Ronstaadt better aspergilly
Ton mitt mat secure
extradition to rills
and secure this bill milly

[Anonymous No.23110149]

>>23108966
I like this one. Love the placement of those enjambments

[Anonymous No.23110218]

My butt
Ass cheeks held wide
Waiting for you
My hole puckered all sexy
Waiting
Eager
Glistening as you spit on it
My cock hard
Now take me

[Anonymous No.23110828]

Irene, Irene
You're not the Queen.
Now relax
And pay the tax

[Anonymous No.23111889]

The thumb
Juicy
Like a plum
After you insert it
in your bum

[Anonymous No.23112732]

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.23112851]

A poem written for funsies, not Serious.

Common beauty

Should I tire of you, babbling Brook?
Resplendent, by a touch of rosy light,
Or dread thee less, thou dark and stormy night,
Which glory’s red, are like an open book?

Say if, once starry eyed, now dagger’d looks
Giveth my dear, bedewing her rose-cheek,
and my heart pierced be, by her swallowed hooks,
She’ll lead me along paddleless the Creek.


Behold imaginal gardens of Eden,
tarry awhile, and paint the rosy pictures,
Are not Sun, moon and stars e’er shining beacon,
Revealing formal beauty’s common fixtures?


So long fare’d well, does prove, so far, so good,
The famous tint retain’d in the rose-glass,
By hours burnt, these sands of time withstood,
Transform to crystal-clear, and bold as brass.
And another poem, a paraphrase which begins semi strict but then tightens, written to demonstrate replication of elements of Pindar according to a theory and then additions with developments of my own.


1


For the Dead shineth below rays of a midnight sun,
Even as crushing night doth traverse sickle-in-hand,
Environ’d by strange meadows reek’d rich with balsams,
Their cities tinsel’d with twilight flow’rs crimson damask,

The Ghost-shade there, of frankincense and cypress,
Haunting the air while the lingering aroma,
Of golden fruits, rubies, sapphire fruits, enriches
The sprites of the fair-hell worlds with Coronas.


Still sing with harp and argue the pair of dice lost,
For the centaur’s speed and the great strength of old is theirs,
For they delight no paradise Lost,
All garlands of past-glory fresh-fragrant for e’er.

2

The wanted-failure which makes loose the stiff-back,
When viral death has seized the nerves with sleep,
And infects all but the immortal part of man,
Waking, with phlegm in mouth, despising the past dream.

Its limbs now sinewless divorced from tissue stir,
And march as ether’real fire to learn what faith alotted,
Whether their mettle prove ignoble, and of fickle worth,
Or were made pure by more orient fires, the furnace flames of God.

For these alone consists our borrow’d time,
Whether the gates of joy or paths of sorrow nigh.

3

Who can atone his woe,
And gain the robe’ Persephone’d?
Be crown’d kingly and noble soul’d?
Suppose you though grace’d as Orpheus,
And know the most glorious wisdom of Origen,
And speak Ye the honey’d orifice aristaeus,
The Bee-sting, all of it, but still know no goal,
The heroes to Eros slave, a child’s play, for a child plays and abandons,
To abaddon then, to wayfare and roam seas of oblivion,
Lest the love, lest the light, of a gold rose unfolds thee.


Next post I’ll have a third poem.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.23112857]

>>23112851
Poem written while outside in the snow while in the city.

It’s hard to see the beauty,
When snows descend like dazz’ling gems,
And cities gleam diaphanously dressed,
And ghost-Haunt-Fog has all-compassed with its cold breath,
But chills invade the boney fingers.


What jewels of fire may warm the flesh?
When the hand cracks to grasp a sheet?
No turgid pool the whirlwind cools delight me,
Cruel tempests have my tepid days bereaved,
Thief winter breeze deceive me not,


When southern sun a Satyr rude and hot,
Doth confuse my thoughts with lewder mock,
When garlands are as fever-fed pustules,
And rays make faint and beige-grey the red muscles,
Then perhaps aches shall move my wants,
To strifeless climes enrobed in prudent wann.


No Oxen plough their wonted grounds,
No dottlin’ spouse by sonnet’s sound,
For the fallen boughs with autumn Bow,
And twists their brittle boughs for a con’quors crown,
And offers to thy hearthless Brow.

Begone then, gelid frost,
As well as you, lucid streams,
Far offs my rock from humid extremes,
as a coal burning in the melted heart.

[Anonymous No.23112912]

Sip a light lager
but don't sip that
It tastes like dirt water

and put our thoughts on paper
but don't write that
cuz you're no opinion maker

always propose with a ring
but not to her
dancing in a g-string

and please, try something new
but don't dare to fail
cus i might laugh at you

[Anonymous No.23113179]

Frater please review

[Anonymous No.23113181]

>>23112857

[Anonymous No.23113285]

I scream in my mind, I won't get any respite until
I'm dying, that's relaxing, I close my eyes

[Anonymous No.23113485]

Are you done
Pushing me away?
Your foolish fright
Cratering your soul

Make me want you
Make me reach inside you
And hold me tight
As I sneed inside you

I want you on your knees
Where you truly belong
Salivating, panting
My little bitch in heat

[Anonymous No.23113520]

I want to make you
As full of me
As the moon is full
In the night sky

[Anonymous No.23113566]

Bare yourself entirely
Come to me
Stark naked, with a pout
Drop all shreds of doubt

These cloaks you dare not
Undo in error
Shall be the shroud
Of your death by terror

[Anonymous No.23113597]

The longer thou take
To reveal thy face
The more crestfallen
Shall I be

Thy face must be
The face that foiled
The finest faces
I have spoiled

[Anonymous No.23113778]

I'm an ESL and have little to no experience with writing. So my bad if there are any errors or inconsistencies

[Anonymous No.23113788]

where was a young man on /lit/,
who was particularly lacking in wit,
so he sat in his chair,
and let down his hair,
and decided to commit.

now clap

[Anonymous No.23114685]

I like Druids, they are cool
I wish I went to a Druid school
Oh Earth Mother, come to my haste
And lay all the heathens to waste

[Anonymous No.23114837]

Come here, foxy lady
Let me show you heaven
I think you'll do fine
As my concubine #7

[Anonymous No.23115187]

>>23066604
>>23079878
Good
>>23086656
>>23087845
Good idea, simple execution in a bad way
>>23088640
Awesome, professional
>>23095704
nice
>>23112851
>>23112857
Awesome

[Anonymous No.23115366]

Alrighty then, gather 'round, you cosmic clowns,
We're dust bunnies with spirits, wearing God's gowns.
In this wild universe, we're like ants in a jar,
While God's up there, watching from afar.

The Holy Spirit's our eternal roomie,
Crashing on our soul couch, never gloomy.
So strut with the divine, don't be a bore,
Modesty's in vogue, let's give 'em more!

[Anonymous No.23115530]

>>23113778
>thy
>thou

[Anonymous No.23116473]

Take shrooms with me

I feel like my stomach keeps popping, like. I can feel digestion happening
First time I ever felt that

What do you wanna do?

There are more bars but this is the loudest
Other one’s close

Easier?

AND FOR THE RECORD

WEIRD FEELING: I can break this glass bottle with my hand but it would hurt me :(

RESPONSE???

THIS FEELS WEIRD. I could crush this bottle, but it would hurt me

[Anonymous No.23116505]

Nobody replied to my poem, and that's a good thing.

[Anonymous No.23116689]

This constant trudge of miasma
Of static that racks my brain
Fiberglass radiation pursues
The instaturation of the mundane
Im awake when the moons out
Driving under the stars
To the rut of resignation
That refuses to be unlike tar
I walk under the threat of collapse
By the weight of a sluggish mind
Hearing the echoes of didactics
"Embrace the hustle and grind!"
It could be otherwise
I can feel my soul on its knees
Shackled and driven forward
Only the born right do what they please

[Anonymous No.23116743]

[Anonymous No.23116761]

Wanna make her
My private whore
But she can't quit
Being a massive bore

[Anonymous No.23116845]

Finally got her pic. Woohoo!

[Anonymous No.23116853]

>>23116845
She cute

[HW No.23116897]

I was a bright red balloon
She was a dull granite rock
So I told her
to write a smutty poem
About how much she wants my cock

[Anonymous No.23117873]

me: hey I like you
her: life is so bleak
me: I think you're fascinating
her: darkness is all-encapsulating
me: I can't stop thinking about you
her: my favorite color is nightmare blue
me: i find you so hot
her: my mind is a prison, my soul left to rot
me: I think about fucking you all day long
her: my mouth, dry from non-stop kvetching, can't service your dong
me: talk dirty to me
her: Chernobyl

[Anonymous No.23118721]

Chernobyl, Chernobyl
Your atomic glory
Your ruins so noble
oh, what a story!

[Anonymous No.23119738]

Bump

[Anonymous No.23119771]

>>23117873
KEK

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.23119792]

will write critique of others verse in here later today.

For now, a poem written just now to keep the pen sharp, the first stands is intended to simultaneously be in trochaic meter but also have a scansion of

- u/ u u/ u u/ - -/ - -/

Diurnally as the bright sun’s footpath,
Traveling to the untread steppe’s stretched-length,
Covered with as by the clouds hued wool-black,
Separate from the erect dens men fence.

“Away for a while, the airs uh-meet”
“A way for a wile, the errs uh meat! “
“ah wayfir awhile the heir’s a mete!”
Each trip-oh-ling speech confusing me!

Now speak, no sing in song,
And bring the peace I long,
With ease released from all,
I’ll bring a calf you’ll see damask,
The bleeding slash leaving sashes
Of red breaths, to leak heavy like death’s sabbaths,
But these calfs sacrificed by hand not knife,
With Sachets yet no myrrh, my verse my tongue has struck another flood no unguent just my huffing lungs,
Adam an add uh man, an adamant will will still still with love,
I have a calf of praise, a flash the man unmade,
At last to have a place, to have a lasting place,
From having last in place, to lasting made.

[Anonymous No.23119830]

>>23119792
really neat. must be fun to write those kinds of poems.

[Anonymous No.23119835]

>>23119792
How do I get as good as you? Any books? It seems like your stuff is quality no matter the subject matter.
Here are two of mine that I put more effort into than usual:
>>23056488
>>23094411
In the first one I rushed the the final stanza and did not find an alternative to the awkward second verse in the second stanza because I was going to work in an hour.
In the second poem, I tried to use a strict meter, and the problem that I see with it is the awkwardness of the first and last verse of the verse stanza, and the third verse of the final stanza, but I am not sure.
What stands out to you for improvement? I'm at the stage where it is not easy for me to see my (probably glaring) flaws.

[Anonymous No.23119981]

>>23112851
Who are your favorite poets? Rec me a few books on poetry or something.

>>23088640
Not bad. Ditch the churchmen nonsense. It's trite.

[Anonymous No.23119988]

>>23086656
0/1000

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.23120059]

>>23113179
My argument is I see what you’re going for but I think you need more erudition to make it satisfying, try to read Samuel butler, Lewis caroll’s poetry, and Samuel wesley sr’s maggots collection, maybe maybe Edward Lear and Thomas Duffett, I say these because if you want the non-sensical Witt which is still beautiful, these men would all assist in the task in various ways.

>>23119830
Oh it is, I also think it’s necessary for the serious poems to have these play-ones.

> How do I get as good as you? Any books?

It’s just a process of reading your favorites and studying them a lot and keeping your “pen sharp” by writing while stressing and stretching your skill to breaking points until you succeed in the harsh technical task, this then allows you to go smoother than (imo) others when you write without the many constraints, for books. Beginning with poetic meter and form and bridge’s milton’s prosody isn’t a bad start, but it’s really more a question of finding favorites and pastiching them and replicating them, and then replicating multiple at once. So for me to also answer

>>23119981
My taste range from William Blake and Swinburne and ae Russell, to d’urfey, fulke greville, Robert herrick, elkanah settle, the aforementioned Samuel wesley, decadents like Baudelaire, weird fiction poets like Clark Ashton smith and Robert e Howard, obviously the Bible as a whole and so forth, but where my verse is gonna seem odd compared to these is, I take a ton from Indian poets and Chinese poets, Specifically the mahakavya tradition of extreme metric/wordplay constructions like in magha and bharavi’s work, and I take much from the whole ghost-tradition stemming from li-he and meng-jiao, my rhyme and assonance stuff is 100% derived from studies of rappers believe it or not, ranging from tech n9ne to Royce da 5’9 to Eminem to mf doom to k-rino to kxng-crooked, for their musicality and rhyme play is actually unique in the global corpus of writings, only there will you find multisyllabic rhymes a commonality to the point entire lines may rhyme, and to which the rhythm of lines may be determined not by meter but rhyme, likewise I’ve study of and arguments concerning the Pindaric rhythm (I’ll post in the next post a poem wherein the second half I would argue I recreate an English equivalent by making iambs equal dactyls, epitrites equal cretics.)I even have studies and replication in some verse of Norse court poetry, late medieval alliteration, etc, and of course my first fixation is always religious and esoteric lit. But these are my taste, it’s best one read widely according to their taste and constantly replicate and combine, that’s the only way. Every good book is a manual for how to write well a different way.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.23120103]

>>23056488

>I feel fits of frightful burning in my breast

Frightful feels forced, free ya fingers so the line flows better, by this I mean to say, high alliteration like this whole stanza is very doable in a good way but I find what usually messes it up is a common alliteration pattern, whereas a more variant distribution can produce a better quality verse

>I feel fits of frightful burning in my breast
—
This binding, bashful beating on my chest

Could for example become

I feel a fit of fire burning in my chest,
That fuels the forceful beating breast,

“Solemn fear” is far too vague.

>I know Not this nothing that I plainly seek—

The danger of Witt is that you can appear trying to show yourself witty, which is disgusting and imo even Shakespeare has examples where this ruins the line. “why don’t you go into the sun,
the problem is I’m too much in the son!”
To paraphrase some hamlet.

Foolish yes, for a fickle heart so strongly
Yet so bashful still— to feel so wrongly.

“Yes for A” “so” is all useless filler as is the so in “so wrongly” either write lines smaller or rewrite the line until the slush is gone.

>And again, I knew you not, nor you knew me—
>Yet still I, foolish, vainly think of thee.

If you want a good example of ego centric but pretty verse you need to look to Allen upward, here’s an example of a very perfect verse from him, it’s very herrick.

Sunshine
(from Songs in Ziklag: 1888)

Bathed in balmy odours
Sitting upon flow’rs,
By the rippling waters,
Thus we pass the hours.
In the trees above us
Gaily sing the birds,
Making pleasant music
To our whisper’d words.
Yonder in the open
Pours the sunshine down
On the stooping reapers,
And the harvest brown.
In the stream the fisher
Lightly drops his cast.
All around is happy;
Would that it might last!

>>23094411
The key to learning your defaults in a verse is repeating the line over and over with your physical mouth. The sound will tell you everything. Next post I’ll try to critique this one in depth, tad busy

[Anonymous No.23120212]

>>23120103
Thanks! I'll wait for it! :-]

[Anonymous No.23120462]

Thanks! I'll wait for it!
Methinks like a twit
The danger of Witt
Smelly, mushy like shit

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.23121315]

>>23120462
>>23120212
Oh I’ll reply I’ve just been busy. Lmao.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.23121632]

>>23094411
>My Love is like a bitter game of chess to me—

This may come off strange to say, but it’s dangerous to write about “smart “ things like chess, because if you’re not careful witt, metaphor and certain subject matter inherently may come off smarmy and pretentious, while there’s good poetry about chess and using chess allegory, doing this sort of metaphysical allegory and beginning by stating it very clearly, it is a dangerous way to go.

>'Tis fraught with traps and poisoned pawns I cannot see

Poisoned pawn feels like it’s just for the alliteration and doesn’t quite serve the metaphor and simile nor image, “tis” while usable you have to worry about if your register when using these sounds organic or if it sounds like you’re larping a different manner, you have to perceive of terms like “tis” and so forth not as special early modern power words, just see them as special poetic diction, but normative lexicon words, this line feels off because tis feels fanfic-like.

>I play these cold and calculating gambits too

Playing with idiom and common phrase is difficult, In the above “common beauty “ poem I show how you can stitch them, the problem is again, if Ill-treated the common usage of an idiom depletes it of its imagery and even rhythm, this line feels exhausted because “I play” then the idiom makes it seem like you’re forcing yourself to be relevant to the idiom, “gambit” doesn’t fit the tone you’re going for.
>Because I know not how to show my love to you.
Too generic and arguably filler-filled, too easy of a line, no real vision in it. Nothing memorable then.


>Oh! Is there ever time that I don't desp'rate pray

Remove the “oh” add to this “that i “ it’s too much.

>For courage that I might this broken heart display,

This does sound properly Elizabethan, any complaints on it are hair-splitting.

>And fear no curséd trap nor poisoned pawn's attack?

Curséd filler, try to restructure to have only curse and it’s good to try to remove repetitive words or phrases unless you have a rhetorical scheme wherein you’ll keep repeating. Here’s a Shakespeare sonnet where he does repeat himself intentionally, note the difference.

To me, fair friend, you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I eyed,
Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold
Have from the forests shook three summers’ pride,
Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turned
In process of the seasons have I seen,
Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burned,
Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.
Ah, yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand,
Steal from his figure, and no pace perceived;
So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,
Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceived:
For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred:
Ere you were born was beauty’s summer dead.

Cont

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.23121649]

>>23121632
>Alas— I cannot bear the dagger in my back.

Not a playful usage of the idiom imo, too straight forward for a poem with Witt in the center.

>So I quit thee! I resign and now forfeit thee!

“So I quit” has a weakness to it, I think you’d have been better off by making the rhyme on the 8th and 9th syllable while keeping the “thee” in the final syllable but repeating “thee” in the next line, this would give some variety to the sound.

>And with no beating heart— no hope within my breast.

The ending is fine I have no complaint.

My ultimate comment is, unity unity unity. You need unity throughout the parts, unity in diversity, unity in conception, unity in register. Pick a poet, perhaps herrick and try to just replicate his speech style over and over, you’ll find yourself with more smoothness by repeated replication.

[Anonymous No.23121687]

>>23121632
>>23121649
Thanks for the advice! I chose chess because I play chess and saw a prompt on Lichess for chess related poetry. I used the word poisoned pawn because it's a trick where you give your opponent a seemingly free piece only to cause them to lose horribly in some manner (usually in an unpredictable way).
A gambit in chess is a move which is seemingly losing (or outright losing) that one uses to get the drop on an unprepared opponent. In this case, the move is cold and calculated instead, intended to appear like a risky move but is instead a form of manipulation of one's partner.

Thanks for the advice dude. I'll keep all of this in mind. I just didn't want you to think I wrote the poem in a pretentious way, I was just taking something from my life to put in.

[Anonymous No.23121713]

>>23043118

Watching things slip so far away
My life my times my dreams
Friends who care but feel like strangers
I'm tearing at my seams

Cotton empties out, falls adrift
Flaccid pleats blown about
Stagnant air and crushing failure
Tear my button eyes out

Like any good plush, dress me up
Many outfits to pick
Church clothes and school clothes and work clothes
None of them ever stick

Pull on my chord and hear me sing:
"So many outfits and-
-yet there aren't any occasions-
and man this life is bland"

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.23121744]

>>23121687
No no I understand and I’m aware of gambit being a chess term and so forth, the problem is precisely that this is a very metaphysical style poem and even the best of them will receive complaints of pretension, I don’t mean that personally, it’s just a thing to keep in mind.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.23122355]

Written while in traffic

Hail Tetragrammaton the four-fold King,
Trail round thy glory-train about the Queen,
whose bosom holds thy son the wondrous Prince,
Whose body is the sephirothic Ten,
Where E’er do flock the baser muses Nine,
To sing the simurgh chief whose crown is Eight
Rays of sunlight born from the gates Seven-
Fold, whereby enoch glimpsed the star of Six,
Which holds the sov’rin dom’nince o’er the Five
Elements which compose the stainless Four
Kabbalistic worlds which are by the Three-
in-One made to reveal the mystic Two:
The Goodfall and the double-meaning Ace.
Come for I gift the meek-praise of a Fool.

[Anonymous No.23122767]

Buddha laugh, Buddha smile
Buddha dance in Buddha style
Buddha turns a Buddha stone
Buddha takes the Buddha throne
The Buddha’s words are meaningless
The Buddha’s smile is singing bliss
The Buddha’s wanting this and that
But Buddha doesn’t want like that
If Buddha knew what Buddha said
He’d laugh and laugh til he were dead
So just keep thinking “Buddha smiles”
And sit like the Buddha a little while

[Anonymous No.23122775]

>>23122355
Neat!

[Anonymous No.23123079]

She lay among the myrtles on the cliff;
Above her glared the noon; beneath, the sea.
Upon the white horizon Atho’s peak
Weltered in burning haze; all airs were dead;
The cicale slept among the tamarisk’s hair;
The birds sat dumb and drooping. Far below
The lazy sea-weed glistened in the sun;
The lazy sea-fowl dried their steaming wings;
The lazy swell crept whispering up the ledge,
And sank again. Great Pan was laid to rest;
And Mother Earth watched by him as he slept,
And hushed her myriad children for a while.
She lay among the myrtles on the cliff;
And sighed for sleep, for sleep that would not hear,
But left her tossing still; for night and day
A mighty hunger yearned within her heart,
Till all her veins ran fever; and her cheek,
Her long thin hands, and ivory-channelled feet,
Were wasted with the wasting of her soul.
Then peevishly she flung her on her face,
And hid her eyeballs from the blinding glare,
And fingered at the grass, and tried to cool
Her crisp hot lips against the crisp hot sward:
And then she raised her head, and upward cast
Wild looks from homeless eyes, whose liquid light
Gleamed out between deep folds of blue-black hair,
As gleam twin lakes between the purple peaks
Of deep Parnassus, at the mournful moon.
Beside her lay her lyre. She snatched the shell,
And waked wild music from its silver strings;
Then tossed it sadly by.—‘Ah, hush!’ she cries;
‘Dead offspring of the tortoise and the mine!
Why mock my discords with thine harmonies?
Although a thrice-Olympian lot be thine,
Only to echo back in every tone
The moods of nobler natures than thine own.’

[Anonymous No.23123702]

Jenny, Jenny!
~yes, my love?
On your period?
~yes, my love.
Crying buckets?
~yes, my love.
~hold me, dearest...
Ew, what the fuck bitch. Get off me, you stupid cunt.

[Anonymous No.23124005]

Another reason women fail at writing poetry is because they are extremely self-centered creatures. Which is a good thing, biologically, because the world is full of dangers for a woman and self-preservation is of utmost importance.
But a bad thing when it comes to creative expression.

Your muse? Not me. But yourself.
Here's a summary of your works:

>Muh feelings, a poem
>Muh feelings, a poem
>Muh feelings, a poem
>Muh feelings, a poem
>Muh feelings, a poem

If you want to be your own muse so badly, you should go a step further--grow a cock and go fuck yourself.

[Anonymous No.23124008]

Go back in time and recall all the love I've freely given to you in the last three weeks and what laughable pittance you've given me in return. You're heavily in debt and you'll continue being miserable until you start paying it back with interest. That's how karma works, baby. Your cosmic ledger is unbalanced and you're suffocating under the weight of it.

I challenged you to write something romantic and hopeful to ease your suffering, and lo and behold, I got:

>Muh feelings, a poem

You'll cope and seethe some more after reading this but you know it in your heart that I speak the truth. That's why my existence is so light and breezy. You chain yourself in lies and deceit, so every step is a drag.

No more poetry.
You know my discord, send me a request. Honesty and humility will go a long way if you want to win back my love.

I'm done here.

[Anonymous No.23124182]

Winter fades, as sunbeams play,
Hints of spring, they swing and sway.
Blossoms bloom, and birds take flight,
Nature's art, a pure delight.

[Anonymous No.23124293]

>>23124008
If it really was that discord thot writing those poems, all that happened is you dodged a bullet of unending suffering and probably BPD cheating-related HIV and gonorrhea.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.23124980]

>>23124008
>>23124293
I’m out of the loop what is this?

[Anonymous No.23125252]

>>23124980
It starts here:
>>23054530
And then someone writes
>>23056488
And a schizophrenic thinks it's his girlfriend and this begins a lot of weird poetry-arguments on the poetry thread. Here's some:
>>23056897
>>23058290
>>23058415
>>23094411
>>23095222
>>23096222
>>23098456
>>23101839
She appears very briefly: >>23101992
An anon and the schizo write a poem based on >>23095222
>>23104624
>>23105401
>>23124005
>>23124008
There are some others, anyway it's a schizo getting triggered by everything, apparently thinking his GF was in this thread (maybe she was)