/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.3995130]

Poetry thread, criticize, converse, and contribute.

Here is one:

Stares at me
same as anyone
for free
Next to the blockade
Petroleum Whatchamacallit
Coin constellations
the Waitress' mistake
Coffee forgiven
Focus fixed on leather
tearing beneath me

Teleport to a space tube
launch along caves
cut smoothly
Come back in time
to crack
under prime lighting

Finest in the industry
I don't recall the policy
See me when you get lost
Some extreme legal course
complete with mud and
walls and Barking Racists

[Anonymous No.3995133]

line breaks are the easy way out bro

[Anonymous No.3995135]

jijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijijiji

[Anonymous No.3995138]

The low-lying clouds fall down
Around glowing poppy flowers
Rooted high in bowls of glass,
And everything turns monochrome.

[Anonymous No.3995142]

>>3995133
mind blown

[Anonymous No.3995146]

>>3995142

I too can write
In Courier New
And punctuate
With line breaks
For those who don't know
Where the semicolons go
Or what they do;
Or how to read a poem punctuated
Properly.
And to sound profound--perhaps
An emdash for aesthetics
And an Instagram photo filter
For tumblr.
Because the language doesn't matter.
I will create the sublime with filters.
You know,
Like the band?
Who's Kant anyways.
You are beautiful.
Who's Keats anyways?
I'll add a plot twist about a landscape
And how you felt like the wind at my back.
Synaesthesia helps one turn cheap tricks.
Another line comparing you to the train
And fog, maybe.
Something about flowers in your hair.
Now please,
Like
And share.

-Some Asshole

[Anonymous No.3995151]

>>3995138
I like it. Everything feels colorful; and then everything turns monochrome.

[Anonymous No.3995164]

>>3995146
I too can rage
About rules broken on
a page
Because art has no
rules
Just as 4chan has
no tools
Lurking, stalking
waiting to pounce
Surely none of that around
w8..

[Anonymous No.3995172]

>>3995164
No tools? What

[Anonymous No.3995175]

>>3995164

I never rage on lit. This was passive aggressive rage at seeing shit from this dude: http://tylerknott.com/ on every social media platform.

[Anonymous No.3995183]

Here's part one of a three part poem I'm writing.

Transmigration

I.
How much longer must this body wander
Collecting lives like empty bottles
Scattered loose within this hovel
Through which we crawl beyond the Fall
Until the End of days?
We chart our course by force
Of moon phase and harvest season,
Persevering beyond all reason
In flesh made flesh from blood and soil
Crying out from under toil
Of man upon the land out father left us.
The curse of the dead falls upon our heads like lead,
Hunched upon the plow that digs deep down the grave
To which we’re now enslaved,
Swallowing bodies whole and vomiting the souls
Into some lost country, inconstant and unknown.
Thrice over I have traveled this terrain
Inherited from brother Cain, never slain
But perpetually stumbling through dark Sheol,
Body marked but whole and without a soul to guide him.
I follow his pathless way like a stray,
Cocooned in clay that weighs upon my feeble senses
And deadens their defenses to the senselessness
Of wandering.

[Anonymous No.3995184]

>>3995175
u kno i kind of think social media was a "wrong turn" for humans...i really dont like it

[Anonymous No.3995193]

When I start to feel upset,
I feel like I'm to blame,
And as I point the finger,
I know that I'm to blame,
And while I'm brooding after,
I forget that I'm to blame,
So nothing really changes,
And I do it all again.

[Anonymous No.3995196]

>>3995183

not bad. 'thrice' is out of place though.
and 'like lead' is forced, plz revise.

[Anonymous No.3995197]

Every surface is slick with grease.
The heavy air fills with the sound of a thousand children
Wasting their parent’s money
Ululation of machines
Covetous clamor of ski-ball.
Black lights discover stains
Along with the technicolor bloom of booming arcades.
Boys full of youth race on rocking motors
As near-naked women dance on the screen.
The hot smell of sweat weighs down thick fog.

She
And
Little Speedy
Are dancing in the corner.
Lights flash across his façade
And she leaps to placate his flashing badges.
She wears a Garfield Scary Scavenger Hunt t-shirt
And a purse.
Dragging her hands across his oily face
She doesn’t get the high score.

[Anonymous No.3995198]

Internet
What I should have never seen
These things affect me more than I can know
Slowly sickening
The darkness envelopes my mind
Self mutilation
Fantasies previously unknown
What is gender anyways
Beginning to encroach
Socially
Normal is bland
4chan
Maybe I should take a break

[Anonymous No.3995199]

>>3995193
liked it. except 'brooding.'

[Anonymous No.3995204]

>>3995199

I can't remember what brooding means I just made that up on the spot. Doesn't it mean when you're cooling off from being pissed and grow more angry than upset?

[Anonymous No.3995210]

>>3995204

http://lmgtfy.com/?q=define%3A+brooding

[Anonymous No.3995214]

>>3995198
Inspired by my engrossment in this thread
>>>/b/497351975

[Anonymous No.3995218]

>>3995214

if pictures on b have you questioning you value systems, you haven't been around long enough summerfriend.

[Anonymous No.3995222]

>>3995218
Nah, it's just these past 5 years (or so) of lurking are starting to get to me

[Anonymous No.3995226]

>>3995222

"this too shall pass"

[Anonymous No.3995271]

>>3995151

[Anonymous No.3995281]

pulsing against my back
my wrestling partner
my guard, my hungry grabs
against his horny hands
i force myself behind him
i pull him up, from behind
with a thrust, his slackness
pulsing warmly against him

[Anonymous No.3995283]

>>3995164
Greentexting that this is art
doesn't make it so
but
I didn't greentext
and
this is not art

[Anonymous No.3995290]

What do you think about this one?

Glimmering specks so near yet far.
Eternal lights of oblique mortality.
Head in the clouds, feet on the ground.
Maintained grasp of reality.

Gone for millennia,
not missed 'till now.
Longer time for the telegram
than a cosmic curtsy, intergalactic bow.

What once would guide to freedom
has been freed of its slavery.
What always seemed to be
is gone for eternity.

Never miss what was already gone,
until it's gone forever.
A supernova realization of one's mortality,
false bravado to sever.

[Anonymous No.3995298]

everyones
lines
are
so
sh
or
t
and I hope you know what this means
And I hope you know what this means
who x (A.gi is)
who y (nsb a)
who z (erg hack)
I de hope you know it
I de hope you see it
I de hope you cut your guts out and spread your splongks
to all the little girls in this old world
IDEHO.PE.YA.PULL,YARE.YES.OUT

so you can go above and stare at the star of day, jiiiiiiih pros tnv SUN.

[Anonymous No.3995300]

I saw a dapper hobo
In a brilliant red button up
Shiny white beard
Cracked-out Santa Claus
(Smart bird)
Picking through trash

[Anonymous No.3995355]

Nigger nigger
Standing there
Nigger nigger
I have to stare
Nigger nigger
Watermelon
Nigger nigger
Hes a felon
Nigger nigger
Teeth so white
Nigger nigger
Black as night
Nigger nigger
Fucked your mama
Nigger nigger
I voted for Obama

[Anonymous No.3995370]

>>3995355

end line should be "vote Obama" n drop the I from the 4th line like a romanian V but otherwise this is a 5/5 masterpiece

[None !oo940fvuZc No.3995375]

In a field
I am the absence
of field.
This is
always the case.
Wherever I am
I am what is missing.

When I walk
I part the air
and always
the air moves in
to fill the spaces
where my body’s been.

We all have reasons
for moving.
I move
to keep things whole.

[Anonymous No.3995388]

>>3995146
the poetry in this thread is largely disappointing. yours was the only one I liked

[Anonymous No.3995392]

the damp warm soft place
the broken high brain
too much, no lunger warm soft safe place
now, only depressed
need more

[Anonymous No.3995547]

It's the same day again, another Monday, everyday is Monday
Monday, its Monday. Monday again, its Monday
The rain is pouring and its Monday, I have to go to work
I'm stocking shelves on Monday and the rain is pouring
I see the blonde girl and I avoid her eyes because its Monday
Perhaps on Tuesday I'll smile at her but its Monday and its raining
I'm taking a cigarette break on Monday and its raining still
Now I'm buying painkillers because its Monday
and the rain seeps through my hood on Monday
Monday, its Monday. Monday again, its Monday
"Is the bus late?"
"Yes, probably because its Monday."
Solemn faces on Monday
Crying children on Monday
Jaded skies on Monday
Will the sun be shining on Friday?
Who knows, I only exist on Monday
and its raining again.

edgy/10 amirite guys?

[Anonymous No.3995643]

I listen to the neighbors fuck
it's 3 AM soon
their bed is thumping softly
through Mayhem's Freezing Moon
Winter has touched my window
with zygomorphic lips of nature
and our apartments are cold vivaria
of some bored dude in Canis Major
Maybe I am his starseed
A breath of exhilaration
tapering off
like every other elation

[Anonymous No.3995859]

>>3995643
I like this. Almost everyone else in the tread feels like they're trying to be Cummings and failing miserably

[Anonymous No.3995865]

Dearly beloved
Every inch of your body
Victimized by flames
On high, you burn
Nevertheless dwelling in Arizona

Jumping up
Arms like branches
Creeping up familiar trees
Only reaching for the fleeting
Beauty in a simulacrum

Army man
Round six feet five
Insect son
Now he's dressed to kill and grown

[Anonymous No.3995907]

Poetry is a daunting measure,
of how much you should know,
‘Tis why I stay sober of my talent,
And not express my sorrowful woe,
I am — but a bird of weak oversight,
Unable to anticipate my next plight,
I give in, therein, to my natural flow,
And let the words of joy eagerly grow.

[Anonymous No.3995913]

I've seen the hunger,
The beast of men's tongues
But so few wonder
What they have become

I've seen them lose their faces
The beast's clear in their eyes
Good ones become lechers
What a human surprise

But tonight you've got the devil in your feet again,
And there are so many people to meet again,
Just one drop and you'll be dancing to the beat again

She speaks with such a soft voice
Seems like you've got no choice
At least you have the morning to remember who you are
If you get that far

[Anonymous No.3995934]

Here's something really short I wrote

Keystroke farmers, changing passwords, guarded warehouse keepers
Made-up ages, advertisements, gender neutral angels
Drowsy nudists, desperate housemates, simulated webcams
40,000 chatty strangers, all with common names
40,000 gender neutral angels

[Anonymous No.3995943]

>>3995146

>Who's Kant anyways.

Ew.

[Anonymous No.3995956]

Slipping sideways on the sidewalk
pass! pass! pass!
my eye sides hurt
the sugars shrinkage sings to me
"Where are you going?"
My teeth feels smaller
I should eat less
as I count the counter pieces
What's that whine
is it the tv?
is my roommate's girlfriend singing?
I've left the bathtub
on I know it
Tell me huntress, where'd you go?
are those footsteps from the kitchen
or do I just hear the freezer making ice?
is my vision prescription up to date
It's felt fuzzy funny lately
I left the sink on! damn!
good god I've left the fan on
Not again! the winds will kill me
my blog followers will crush the king
who the hell has still a home phone
anymore?

[Anonymous No.3995968]

dead mind howling in the junksick night
prick these broken veins and learn to fly
all your life
you were only waiting for your dealer to arrive
here comes your man
(i'm waiting for my man)
here comes your man
(i'm waiting for my man)
outside theres a boxcar waiting
(twentysix dollars in my band)
out by the fire breatheing
mom and dad why did you send me to electroshock thereapy

[Anonymous No.3995984]

>>3995375
This is really good. Don't listen to people bitch about short lines and such. There are no fucking RULES folks.

[Anonymous No.3995991]

>>3995984
>There are no fucking RULES folks.
Yes there are. There are no absolute rules, unless you follow a meter.

I don't believe in changing your language in order to fit a meter tho. Sonnets are bullshit, unless you are a genius.

[Anonymous No.3995993]

>>3995138
>>3995146
>>3995281
>>3995375
>>3995643
>>3995934
>>3995956
Best ITT

[Anonymous No.3995995]

>>3995991
You just disagreed and then agreed with him.

A meter isn't a rule, it's just a mold for the poem set by the poet. You can break the meter if you want. There literally are no rules at all.

[Anonymous No.3995997]

>>3995984
Agreed though I sympathise with the complaints about short lines; they often accentuate the bukowskiesque shittiness of already shit poems. This poem is pretty good though and it works.

[Anonymous No.3995999]

>>3995995
>You just disagreed and then agreed with him.
That's just me being me.

[Anonymous No.3996007]

my mother was a semi-conductor
my father farted into change pots
sister annie broke into cars
Chubbie took the power from horses

I broke the prose out
and took a couple pieces home

momma said no
daddy said dont
tied together my feet
and shared a fine pie

[Anonymous No.3996046]

>>3995956
I can't tell if this is really good or trollbait

[Anonymous No.3996091]

Here i am,
my first time on /lit/
tired i am
of fapping my dick

of living.
in the abyss of /fit/
Ride i did
into an even bigger shit

into a wall.
but there were no bricks
Now I'm dead.
the wall was made of lead.

[kdawson No.3996125]

Water Rights

The rich had plumbing,
the poor had wells,
the wretched only cisterns
and the rain’s mercy.

Our well was a ceramic pipe
thrust up through the back porch
floor, going down
to the sweet water hole
with an aluminum dipper contraption
that caught water
like mice in a trap.

I was proud of it.
The really poor
had to go outside.

[Anonymous No.3996155]

>>3995956
I feel like the whole thing flows a lot better without the line about the blog followers

[Anonymous No.3996159]

>>3996125
Maybe it would be better if instead of "like mice in a trap" it just said "like trapt mice"

[jgl No.3996271]

U and I are elements,
not gas, nor mettalic,
sometimes ionic,
but strives for covalent,

Unreactive and reactive at the proper times,
Unable to separate and no one knows why,

At time U and I,
have very strong repulsions,
and what is baffling,
is the trait to gain attraction,
scientists are confused
"what really binds these two?"
"could it be an extension of a sub--"
"wait.. could this be love?"

[[ How cheesy. Wrote this back a couple years ago ]]

[Anonymous No.3996682]

>>3995956
Anybody got any opinions about this?

[Anonymous No.3996687]

>>3995934
It feels like you were trying to write song lyrics, not a poem. I do applaud you for not using too many line breaks. You could have easily just broken up every little phrase with a line break and it would've been as long as everybody else's.

[Anonymous No.3996737]

we crave solidarity
falling through the fold is a scary thought
there’s the story of Ann with her highschool amphetamine tours through Europe
and the UN family that lived five years in, respectively, in Da Nang, in Maharashtra, in Khartoum; thousands of miles from global brand skateboard burns, 80 pound weights safe in the sunlit suburbs
Mr. B was very lonely in his 20s. he tells me to pick up a backpack and a plane ticket and leave my family for South East Asia

does the decade mean less to him if I don’t?
we crave solidarity

[Anonymous No.3997334]

>>3996737
I like this

[Anonymous No.3997381]

>>3996682
Dude, you have the most replies in the thread

[Anonymous No.3997888]

I met a man on the western road
Who told me he was leaving
Away on a ship to the East he stowed
From his life of sin and thieving

Across the sea to a distant land
Where the sun lay low and dim
That place where the ice lies on the sand
Is where the thief saw him

He met a man on the eastern road
Who told him he was leaving
Away on a ship to the West he would stow
From his life of death and grieving

“Turn back, go home, stay away,” said the thief
“Your journey ends in sorrow
The land to the west cannot settle your grief
For there, there is no tomorrow”

“I pray,” said the man, “that you hear well and true
That the days in the East grow dark
I seek a life and a land anew
So onto this ship I embark”

The thief and the mourner with not one more word
Crossed paths and went on their way
What wrath or luck the thief then incurred
That I cannot say

But I met a man on the western road
A mourner from the East
Along the track, alone he strode
Unable to find peace

“Turn back,” he said, “do not think to go west
Nor east should you go forth
Perhaps,” he said, to himself I guessed
“My fate lies in the North”

[Anonymous No.3997946]

He closed his eyes
Because on the other side,
There was only more darkness

But with his eye lids folded
This darkness; he could control it

[Anonymous No.3997985]

Daydream delusion
Limousine Eyelash
Oh, baby with your pretty face
Drop a tear in my wineglass
Look at those big eyes
See what you mean to me
Sweet cakes and milkshakes
I am a delusion angel
I am a fantasy parade
I want you to know what I think
Don’t want you to guess anymore
You have no idea where I came from
We have no idea where we’re going
Lodged in life
Like two branches in a river
Flowing downstream
Caught in the current
I’ll carry you. You’ll carry me
That’s how it could be
Don’t you know me?
Don’t you know me by now?

[Anonymous No.3997994]

High in the sky
Two golden globes suspended
My lovely lunar loins
Colonise me, Baby
You might find life

[Anonymous No.3998000]

A strange feeling in my chest
Darkness reigns around me in decay
Mocks my pain and smiles
Images flicker in an abandoned theater
As a lone spectator laughs at all the wrong parts
And cries at the happy scenes
As around me everyone crowds
Their kindly faces turn sinister
As smiles melt away
And fangs appear
And cut my throat
Bite my neck
And drink all my poisoned blood
While she hovers in the shadows
And silently watches.

[Anonymous No.3998008]

>>3997985
I swear this is from a film...

[Anonymous No.3998020]

>>3998008
Before Sunrise

[Anonymous No.3998038]

>>3997994
>My lovely lunar loins
My lovely lady lumps
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iEe_eraFWWs

[Anonymous No.3998052]

penis through vagina
light through space
i stare
and wait for something
to
happen
Minnesota, private garden
there is this couple making out and she is wearing a long dress and the dress is dirty and she is lying barefoot
penis through vagina
Robert was conceived in this garden behind this rock
now he wish that rock smashed his face
when
he
was
born
he often says:
i can't stand thinking about those days
the days when
in the summertime
we were swimming naked insane
in this lake
and she was there
standing under that tree

[Anonymous No.3998069]

These pleasant worlds add crystals
to undecaying pistols
Who swarm in folly and in light
of malintended ritual

[Anonymous No.3998299]

Like the sand beneath your feet,
Feel the baking desert heat.
Thirst for water grows stronger,
With each of your hotter breaths,
While you feel the creep of death.
Tricks of the mind play new games,
While your senses melt in flames.
As the desert wind begins
To laugh and chill your bones,
Visions of demons and ghosts,
Invite you to meet their host.
Bury your face in the sand,
And take your place in this land.
We’ll dance the circle of death,
And sway along into trance.
The chorus of the damned play.
A fanfare around the pyre,
For the shrill demented choir.

>I'm not a good poet.

[Anonymous No.3998782]

>>3998052
opinions?

[Anonymous No.3998828]

>>3995130
Couldn't help but imagine some stand up bass player thumping out a bass line to this. Were you going for a Beat sorta poem?

[Anonymous No.3998832]

>>3998052
this would make ok lyrics for a chillwave song i guess. as a poem it is lacking. the imagery is dull and trite. sex, light, trees, lakes. i understand that you're trying to be minimalist and mysterious but it comes off as lazy and makes the poem very uninteresting for the reader. "Robert was conceived in this garden behind this rock/now he wish that rock smashed his face" is really dumb and facile. adding line breaks doesn't make something a poem. sorry.

[Anonymous No.3998839]

Jesus Christ allmight
ee, I am writing a hai
ku poem sweet tits

[Anonymous No.3998850]

poem for dead mouse by side of road

“Cats kill
by severing the spine
at the neck”

raindrops fall on grainstalks (flowers on gay graves)
the cold in your bones drifts listless like alcoves
rotted shutters, roofs dart stark against the sky
(grey and red-grey) the dust of cigarettes
drifts placidly the bones soon rotted through
to woody cores the eyes that droop to feet
on dampened concrete, where greybody squirms
paw-pinioned to the pavement – squelching snap –
falls still. the feet keep on. the eyes float up
back to the clouds and bones of empty homes.
the grainstalks by the highway sway and flowers wilt.

[Anonymous No.3998891]

On a pronunciation of "I am"

To the speaker,
I couldn't help but
notice that little difference in your voice,
your 'I' swings low, into a lul,
almost saying, if not following a 'U'
in its shape.

The 'a' appears almost over matured,
crafting a din like an 'e'
but resounding like an 'æ'
forgotten in olden days and long past times.

As the 'a' strikes against the 'm'
there is a hidden subject,
a small child between the letters,
something that smacks of an 'l',
but just barely.

In your voice I can hear
the 'a' reaching out to the 'm',
as if afraid to fall short- terrified.
and I can feel your tongue
reaching out to the roof of your mouth.
Like the tentative tongue of a virgin's
reaching towards the labia
of a woman he doesn't love.

[Anonymous No.3999116]

Dogs eating vomit laced with hallucinogens
dust from a dirt road coated the face
he wiped this away with hands annointed
with the burnt intestines of tube amps
he turned and spoke aloud as the wind changed
thus it was ripped away from him.

Everything came crashing inward
All the voices that ripple around corners
all the eyes of things
felt in treelines
the skin that crawled
the ditch that breaks the legs
in the dead of night
All the beds that brought no sleep
tile and chlorine
Ceramic ashtrays thrown at faces
the man that died and the man without teeth
Retinal cells slaughtered by headlights
all the knives almost pulled out

This is the way of forever
without breaking point
just voices amputated
clean as arms taken by shrapnel
painful as eardrums lost to strafing
or knees kicked with cleats

there on the ridge
the wind that took the spoken thoughts ran off the clouds
and without words the moon shrank to its place
amongst a sky of aging stars

for there is nothing to say.

[Anonymous No.3999134]

>>3995130
It's really Cobainastic.
Anything similar to Cobain's style I ever wrote is this
http://maskedwannabee.deviantart.com/art/Schyterscide-390145981

Also, don't judge me on that, I'm told that this is my best one so far. http://maskedwannabee.deviantart.com/art/Colourless-Lapdog-361448618?q=gallery%3AMaskedWannabee%2F41506012&qo=10
Thanks for any critiques

[Anonymous No.3999140]

>>3998891
daaaaaaaaang pretty good. I'd try to get this published somewhere.

It's a lot better than the shit I see published in my school's literary journal.

[Anonymous No.3999147]

/lit/

>browse /lit/
>poetry thread
>expect mediocrity
>was not disappointed
>feelings of complete superiority
>oh god all these faggots are so plebeian
>whip out dick and start masturbating to myself
>why the fuck is there not a female of me to impregnate
>i want pure genetic clones of myself to make a family of pure beauty

[Anonymous No.3999157]

>>3999147
post your poetry

[Anonymous No.3999158]

I'm awful

Constant exhibition-
Impression pure motive.
Jagged locks, critiqued
happiness, happiness enigma.
Confusion confusion, illusive allusion,
conclude.

[Anonymous No.3999178]

>>3999157
Please son mind yourself
Mind your business
Every word spoke thus is lyrical

[Anonymous No.3999190]

Brotip: read your poetry aloud
avoid boring metaphors and similes
edit and re-edit until you feel a simultaneous
tingle in both of your nipples, cock and prostate.
Don't use line breaks for the fuck of it.
Try different words. Surprise your reader.

[Anonymous No.3999197]

>>3999190
All poetry of mine

Impromptu
Clever, succinct
Attribution of meaningless adjectives
Poetry is simple, depth is nigh
Just let words flow

[Anonymous No.3999199]

i feel like i shouldn't be writing this
i am horrible at poetry
but this is a poem i am writing
no one is here to stop me

[Anonymous No.3999202]

>>3999199
Suck my dick

That was awful
Kill yourself
Your life devoid of meaning

[Anonymous No.3999207]

Wrote this about how I thought this one French painting looked like Michael Cera. Kinda sucks since I mainly write prose, not poetry.

On the Portrait of Miss Edith Crowe

The walls scream grey my neck is itchy and
Miss Edith Crowe is Michael Cera (a very
forlorn Michael Cera eyes grounded arms
x’ed her shirt screams black screams death).

Henri wanna paint “music playing behind the
veil of flesh” just like Michael Cera singing
The Moldy Peaches at the end of Juno his voice
cotton behind a thin veil of three A.M. TV static.

Paper cuff beneath gasoline sleeve Miss Edith Crowe
burns burns for an objective truth and Michael Cera
burns burns for another season of Arrested Development
and you -
burn, burn, burn for artistic fulfillment
on that pixilated screen, so bright and lovely-lonely.


(She’s wrapped in black, Edith, a
Crowe in name and form, maybe
Henri had something to say about
the human condition but you’d
rather philosophize with reality
television and Coco Puffs).

Talk, tired Thanatoid!
Talk about Eternity in the liquor store candy bars a dollar fifty you cough up blood and quarters.
Talk about Disneyland giant pretzels fireworks happy but Mickey Mouses make me mourn.
Talk about ocean and desert supreme solitude now your neck is itchy and your fingers twitch.
Talk about that smulshed-strawberry scarlet in the lower left-hand corner of Henri’s
pretty picture her soul bleeding dry for you, you.


Sitting on the cold hardwood floor -
I think, looking
up:

Miss Edith Crowe’s wings have been
clipped.

[Anonymous No.3999209]

Wrote this about how I thought this one French painting looked like Michael Cera. Kinda sucks since I mainly write prose, not poetry. Pls be gentle.

On the Portrait of Miss Edith Crowe

The walls scream grey my neck is itchy and
Miss Edith Crowe is Michael Cera (a very
forlorn Michael Cera eyes grounded arms
x’ed her shirt screams black screams death).

Henri wanna paint “music playing behind the
veil of flesh” just like Michael Cera singing
The Moldy Peaches at the end of Juno his voice
cotton behind a thin veil of three A.M. TV static.

Paper cuff beneath gasoline sleeve Miss Edith Crowe
burns burns for an objective truth and Michael Cera
burns burns for another season of Arrested Development
and you -
burn, burn, burn for artistic fulfillment
on that pixilated screen, so bright and lovely-lonely.


(She’s wrapped in black, Edith, a
Crowe in name and form, maybe
Henri had something to say about
the human condition but you’d
rather philosophize with reality
television and Coco Puffs).

Talk, tired Thanatoid!
Talk about Eternity in the liquor store candy bars a dollar fifty you cough up blood and quarters.
Talk about Disneyland giant pretzels fireworks happy but Mickey Mouses make me mourn.
Talk about ocean and desert supreme solitude now your neck is itchy and your fingers twitch.
Talk about that smulshed-strawberry scarlet in the lower left-hand corner of Henri’s
pretty picture her soul bleeding dry for you, you.


Sitting on the cold hardwood floor -
I think, looking
up:

Miss Edith Crowe’s wings have been
clipped.

[Anonymous No.3999215]

>>3999207
Pretentious

Didnt read a second stanza
Pathetic copy of poetic style
Oh god I'm so superior
Eat shit and die

[Anonymous No.3999223]

>>3999190
yes, reading poetry aloud is the most important thing. Poetry is the art of language and it is of UTMOST importance that you read it aloud to see if the tone is right and the words flow naturally.

[Anonymous No.3999224]

>>3999215
>Eat shit and die
And this is why I don't post on /lit/. Thanks, guys.

[Anonymous No.3999231]

>>3999223
Oh god what

These words I am reading
Feelings abound, pretentious intent
Faggotronics

[Anonymous No.3999234]

>>3999224
ignore the trolls...

[Anonymous No.3999237]

>>3999140

shit, man, thanks! Poetry isn't really my strong suit... so I never thought it'd be good enough...

[Anonymous No.3999239]

>>3999224
Green text implications

>I do not appreciate art
>perpetual acceptance search
>why don't you love me

[Anonymous No.3999242]

PART 1

Rate, it's a true story.
Posting in 2 comments because it's too long.


I had a good childhood, until the age of nine,
Then my father decided that he wouldn't be mine
And I ran from the problems into my mother's warm lap.

My time in middle school was mostly spent,
By making jokes and having a scent,
And I hid my problems from my mother's warm lap.

One day my granny decided,
To hug her neck with a rope provided,
That the rope is bound to a tree,
So she could be gliding freely.
I've heard the news, I saw her hanging,
Afterwards the pictures in my head were quite damaging.
My mother's lap turned cold.

One day I came from school, tired and broken,
Not a word from my mom has been spoken,
She wasn't home, or maybe was she there,
From the garage door came a strange glare,
I ran towards it, she was noiselessly crying,
With a rope around her neck and close to dying,
I saw her, she saw me, she cried, I hid.
My mother's cold lap was unapproachable.
I walked to school like every other day,
But now I'll describe why I did pray.
I wasn't really fit, nor very good looking,
Because my mother got worse at everything, except cooking.
I couldn't talk to anyone, and didn't want to go out,
And very soon I was left out,
Every day people pointed at me and laughed hard,
I could never let down my prim guard.
I rarely went to school and studied nearly never,
And by that I ruined my future forever.
It seemed that everyone's purpose was to hurt me,
Until I decided that I wanted to glide freely...
I came home and prepared the rope,
Put my head trough it without any hope,
But my mother opened the door, she screamed and cried,
And couldn't imagine what she would do if I died.
My mother's lap was too small for me.

[Anonymous No.3999244]

>>3999234
>ignore the trolls

O! What but a shit day can it be
When ye olde 4chan criticize
My emotions are tacit; facile
Why won't the trolls be kind?!?!?!

[Anonymous No.3999246]

>>3999242
PART 2

I've grown to a man, without hope or motivation,
Figured that I've come to the end of the station,
But then I found out about being in love,
I thought it's a gift from the bearded guy above,
Found a girl, got her attention,
But my personality served as my contraception.
I tried hard, for months to come,
And from day to day my heart would crumb.
But at the end of the tunnel, was a warm light,
Waiting in my PC, and shining bright.
It was a girl, no less, from far away,
Helping me from day to day.

Years went by,
As her and I,
Wanted to die,
But could only cry.

She promised me her lap was warm,
I believed she meant only harm.
But after promising it for years to come,
I started believing it, man was I dumb.
When I finally met her, I've touched a piece of Heaven,
It was the best day I had since I learned to cry on command when I was eleven.

Now years went by,
As her and I,
Didn't want to die,
We wanted only to lie,
Next to each other,
In the shallow water,
Not wanting anything other.

Her lap was warm and comfy.

To my bad luck, thought I had no other,
Something else has wanted her, and even got her,
Not only her heart, not only her soul,
Even her holes, and her role.
She told me she could never love me again,
Because apart from me, there were wiser (wo)men,
I remembered our future that she told me about,
And trust me, for it, I've hardly fought.
I wasn't enough, I was too weak,
She couldn't love this damaged freak.
I said, „me or them“ and that was the end,
I didn't only lose my love, but also a friend.
I was ready to jump into the river Styx,
But I couldn't do to my Ma' what my granny did trying to fix.
I knew this would happen, and I told her day in day out,
That's what I never wanted this relationship to be about.
Her lap was cold and unapproachable.

Now years go by,
And here am I,
Wanting to die,
Wanting to cry,
With no more lies I could buy,
With no more way to get high,
With no more way to fly,
With no more way to touch the sky.
Now I'm just „that guy“,
Who seems too wry,
Never closing an eye,
Living in a sty,
With no Wi-Fi,
But I would always imply,
That I would reply,
That I could retry,
That I was nearby,
That I can rely.
But without her everything is too dry,
So all I want to say is; goodbye.
Because everything was a lie

I've lost my family, friends, future and love,
Just tell me, can I even live anyhow?
A man with nothing to lose, the most fearsome thing alive,
With no hope or love, I can only survive.

[Anonymous No.3999248]

>>3999246
PART 3


Perhaps that's how it's learned, never to trust,
Which I didn't in the beginning, but she has cut off that crust.
Perhaps I wouldn't be that sad, if she didn't break her promise,
Why did she do it? She was my Goddess.
Perhaps I wouldn't be so mad, if I listened to my intuition,
But what would you have done in my position?

I want her back, as much as I don't,
I've became very young after being too old.

There is one thing I know for sure, which is;
I'll never be able to be in the warm lap of a wonderful Miss.
I have turned to ice, and I'd melt away,
Flowing trough her lap, never seeing the light of day.


Perhaps I am destined to live alone,
But I have potential and responsibility, which shouldn't be thrown.


I'm writing this to you, as a suicidal non-believer,
I know I can't be helped, but please go and relieve her.
~~~Yeah it's all one poem

[Anonymous No.3999250]

>>3999239
I'm fine with someone not liking what I write, but it'd just be nice to get some critique so I can write something that isn't shit. Isn't it better to help people improve rather than acting out to boost your own ego?

[Anonymous No.3999256]

>>3999250
>art

Why, oh why
They do not like my art!
Art is to be liked
There is no other meaning

[Anonymous No.3999267]

>>3999248
I liked it. Womens' laps was a good recurring motif here.

"Now years go by, [...] I can only survive" was the weakest part imo.

[Anonymous No.3999274]

>>3999267
It's called Colourless Lapdog.
Thanks for the critique.

[Anonymous No.3999280]

>>3999250
it is a troll, you can not change his ways. the most important thing to remembre is to not take anything he says seriously, he's lying

[Anonymous No.3999295]

>>3999280
>lies

Irony
Too harsh, or not harsh,
Lies about lies
Emotional manipulation

[Anonymous No.3999399]

They ask me if I have seen hell
Whether I am afraid to die
No I have not seen hell
But I have climbed stairwells
That would never end
I have seen girls dancing
Through rings of fire
Seductively burning alive
I have seen men smoke
Until their eyes turned grey
And they drifted away

They ask me if I have seen hell
Whether I am afraid to die
No I have not seen hell
But I have seen babies born dead
Their eyes vacant like the souls of men
I have seen children turn to bones
Their flesh eating itself
I have seen the eyes of the parents’
Who lost their little one
And their gaze made God ashamed

Have I seen hell?
No
But I have seen people carved like slabs of meat
And women raped by knives
People tortured until they lost their mind

I have seen
People lost in the halls of emptiness
With no one to hear their silent screams
I have seen
Men eviscerate their eyes
When they saw through the lies
The horrendous truth hiding behind
Or
Burned themselves alive
Until they were charred ashes
For peace they could never find

But no I have not seen hell
And yes
I am afraid to die.

[Anonymous No.3999920]

>>3999399
>2edgy

Sometimes I read
A poem and the thought
Enters my head that says 2damnedgy
It is when a person tries 2hard 2make poems
With controversial topics in order to make their poem
Taboo which is very stupid. If you ask me

[Anonymous No.3999964]

>>3999962
Go back to /b/. Nobody cares about stupid numbers on /lit/

[Anonymous No.3999962]

3999999

[Anonymous No.3999965]

There once was a kitty kat

And on my lap he sitty sat

Then he shitty shat

On my lappy wap

And out the flap

That kitty kat went

[Anonymous No.3999968]

>>3999964
Go back to /lit/. Everyone cares about ur stupid letters on /b/

[Anonymous No.3999977]

>>3999968
This is /lit/ you big silly.

[Anonymous No.4000034]

Music>Books

[Anonymous No.4000052]

>>4000034
>art is rock-paper-scissors

[Anonymous No.4000421]

>>3995290
That's deep.

[Anonymous No.4001044]

i once met a girl
i once met a girl
i once met a girl
i once met a girl
i once had a girl say to me
"everything you ever felt
so far is false"
i once met a girl who made me happy

[Anonymous No.4001068]

What's with the lack of punctuation in most of these poems?

[Anonymous No.4001079]

Jesus Christ what a pretty face
I saw you looking down at your feet
Please, just wait
You're waiting for something that I can't give
A permission slip for allowing you to live
Keep the lights on
And please..
Just Wait


Jesus Christ, look at the mess I made again
Stop biting your lip and giving me that look
Fucking stop it, we're no longer friends
But if you please just wait and listen to me talk
I can fix the battered bruises and fix what needs to be mend
You're short on patience and I'm short on height
But if you please just wait...

I can make it up to you, make the clouds a bit brighter
Sit you underneath the birch trees and talk about tomorrow
I'll put down this fucking pen and forget how to write
If you please just wait
-First time doing one of these. I apologize in advance if it's shit.

[Anonymous No.4001110]

>>4001079
I thought that was pretty nice, very personal, striaight up front about the meaning and emotions, and sincere

[Anonymous No.4001134]

>>3995290
I like this one.
I'm a sucker for space imagery.

[Anonymous No.4001136]

>>3995197
Not bad, too sentimental with last line, show that she didn't get the high score.

[Anonymous No.4001137]

The Curse of a Suburban Mother

For her
Own
Born a
Saint,
To die
A check out chick

Grab the cigarettes quick!
Sliding one into cracked lips
She flicks and flicks 'til it's lit

And changes the channel to an advertisement

[Anonymous No.4001141]

>>3995375
avoid absolutes and the whole we vs. me perspective.

[Anonymous No.4001154]

>>3995984
>>3995993
>>3995991
you guys don't really read poetry, do you? you don't read anything about poetry either? poetry has plenty of rules, some you can follow, some you can rebuild, some you can completely rule out, but it is important to know them. originality is formed by knowing what has already been done.

[Anonymous No.4001162]

green forest,
green forest run me over
blue,
blue as a summer song
a summer song lasted forever

[Anonymous No.4001164]

One day I'll be able to write poems again.

That will be a happy day and I will go from there.

Until then I will do my best to keep everything in order and stay as healthy as possible.

To write poems is to touch

And I dream it in my arms on some nights.

Saying that I will surprise god, does not surprise god. One day I will.

For now there is the noise of bone on bone, instead of the silent music, the sound painting, the, you get the idea.

Poetry, lost, but will be found. Hopefully maybe eventually before I die.

[Anonymous No.4001169]

>>4001164
nice, nice

[Anonymous No.4001187]

>>3999116
good job, in between stanzas 2 and 3 I'd add a stanza that goes one step deeper, into a very specific, personal moment of the same feeling you create through general examples in the rest of the poem.

[Anonymous No.4001193]

>>3999190
>last two lines
especially agreed

[Anonymous No.4001216]

Close inwards, inwards, inwards into a point and implode into into into the space ripped within the point, contained in the point

Inwards, inwards, inwards, into a point, a world order of a magnitude smaller, implode, inwards, inwards, inwards, inwards, implode,

Into a world an order of a magnitude smaller, inwards, inwards, inwards, into a point, contained, by the first point and by what contains the first point.


Driven to the center to be suspended there,

Then driven to the center of there, and suspended there.

[Anonymous No.4001218]

>>4001216
cool

[Anonymous No.4001241]

Those who grew up;
Wish they would have grown.

[Anonymous No.4001252]

>>4001241
Shit... Not gonna lie, that was kinda deep.

[Anonymous No.4001289]

"The Deep"

Shattered glass in Bed-Stuy illuminates the constellations,
all contemplating their destination for time too long
for the mind of man to bare

Heading for the river of lost planes and corporate excrement, lonely, alone; though at home.
Love we entrusted in the state. Who is surprised that these nihilists, Strangers,
forge blame, scapegoating the essence on the libertines and a once controllable libido?

No need to burn the flag, what was colonial pride is now a baker’s dozen.
Smokestack dying, breaths of burnt rolls on dusty ice, coughing currency
We the camel, Camel the straw, lungs entrenched with ostracizing crimson

Crack torn, futile, a hundred-and-ten floors won't suffice,
The burning tower, a self-mutilation;
the end, the fall, we've died, strung out past time

The shuttle's take the tourists out, signs posted "watch for the riot flares".
Rodney's broken body and the embers thrown from the West never died.
Civil-dis agreement, protest; never died for less

Heavy hands shake in bungalows and six story garages,
making life so presently "It", deceiving; so much for believing.
Captain America has left the home front and joined the Tea Party

Illuminations of Wu-Tang smothered on city walls, blazing in the heat
of the once everpresent glory of a self-loathing bottom society
while Mother Teresa's tears vaporize and scream murder on the streets

>That face when i've only made 3 poems and still feel like a failure because poetry magazine didn't publish this eh poem

[Anonymous No.4001294]

>>4001252
I'll do one more...

I hated my dad until the day he died
I asked god why; he spoke
Love sustains.

[Anonymous No.4001305]

And me I'm no stranger to culms of bamboo
In bubbling cauldrons of hot pork chop stew
The cyanide, coconut sweet pickled shoots
Are tumbling down streets where they don't know the climate
Atlantic coast rock beaches native to pandas
Where leopards and rice-field rats sleep at the wharf of Boothbay

How could a person still live that way now?
Turning limp cartwheels in dried up canals
The spirits you slept on moved West after Wednesday
And now all the paddies are next door to juice stands
Where forty years prior our ancestors just barely lived
While of half of me used to fly plasticine steamships
Your other side sometimes still overcooks broth

I'm sure even models are ugly to mollusks

[Anonymous No.4001311]

Slipping sideways on my stair rail
pass! pass! pass! on, pass me by
my eye sides hurt
the sugars shrinkage sings to me
"watch yourself; the young are going"
My teeth feels smaller
I should eat less
as I count the counter pieces
What's that whine
is it the tv?
is my roommate's girlfriend singing?
I've left the bathtub on I know it
Tell me huntress, where'd you go?
are those footsteps from the kitchen
or do I just hear the freezer making ice?
is my vision prescription up to date
It's felt fuzzy funny fuzzy lately
lately, lately, lately layers
I have left the sink on! damn!
good god mine god I've left the fan's still running
Not again! fake winds will kill me
and send strange angel Ansen for my legs
who the hell still has a home phone
anymore?

Citrus fruits, olive juice, fudge almondine
loosen up, woven tight warm gabardine

[Anonymous No.4001314]

>>4001311
This is a rewritten version of something from earlier in the thread.

[Anonymous No.4001315]

>>4001314
>>4001311
To clarify I'm the original author of both, I just revised it a tad.

[Anonymous No.4001321]

There are few days between years,
I feel like a gust of light emanates from my being,
in some sort of enlightening life-changing moment,
when all the fear vanishes,
and I’m overwhelmed with hope and certainty.

But never have I actually used
these empowering moments to leave this hole,
instead,
I wake up the next morning,
again enveloped in the same web all day,
while being nagged about a future
that I’ve already planned
at the end of this rope routine.

And if I finally decide to develop desire,
the opacity of society immediately squashes
each and every one of my ideas
that had been conjured in my mind
and were beginning to prosper unnoticed;
the vivid nature of ambition is replaced
by the eerie stillness of life and death;
and the sounds of joy and hope are substituted
with an incessant drone,
a sound which nothing can replicate,
a sound that cannot be drowned out,
a sound as monotonous as life itself.

I’ve always believed that you could find answers
just by looking within yourself;
that all you had to do
was put the pieces together
and you'll come out from your cave
with world changing material.

But now I’ve delved into derision,
and afraid to leave my head
is the only bit of wisdom I’ve learned:
that this was a stupid thing to do,
and even if I did know everything,
it wouldn't matter
if I didn't do anything.

[Anonymous No.4001354]

Fucking sage.

[Anonymous No.4001356]

>>4001354
Nice downvote, champ.

[Anonymous No.4001575]

Critique would be most welcome.

--

The king and queen, weep for thee,
On golden chariots, made of fire.
As the water moves, in heaving flows,
Towards ocean coves, where children play.
Under sapphire bays, in Albion,
White cliffs of Dover, drown in sulphur.
So come on down, and sing a song,
Written for you and me.
Hear the flute and lute, in the minstrels’ galley,
Float on the air, as notes dance ‘round,
And spin within our head.
We’ll waltz in mud, foxtrot on dirt,
Carried by the flood,
Return to where we are born.
Snared on the waves, to swim in our graves.

[Anonymous No.4002231]

>>4001311
Well, it's an improvement.

[Anonymous No.4002314]

>>4001575
Read it aloud to yourself after not looking at it for a few days.

[Anonymous No.4002344]

When I was alive and sprawling,
Among full insects and the reeds -
Waving nonchalantly in their green hearted
Oscillating strides,
These peasants of the cosmos peeled back
The opacity of wind, cooling the
Loud critters that prosper unnoticed -
Intersecting the bottoms of burning
Sun-dense lawns, ignoring in rainfall
The blue clay monochrome sky,
Where treetops like mold sprout virulently -
Until the ceasing of the sun yields blackness,
Colored only with the pleasantly incessant
Insect humming, which no men can replicate -
In company as involuntarily assembled as that
Of the brittle bugs, singing with the silence,
Ubiquitously, to no one, Together.

[Anonymous No.4002368]

A life like water through fingertips
A few brave souls
A few naive souls
Which amount to the same
Reach out to grip the flows
But always
A degree of futility
In grasping at vanity

[Anonymous No.4002437]

Flaming troglodyte
Angry like a memory
I'll kill you whilst you edge your blade
*tips fedora*
I bid you farewell

[Anonymous No.4003639]

94

[Anonymous No.4003664]

The dead eye gray
Cries tears of sorrow
But rain today
Means life tomorrow

[Anonymous No.4003679]

>>4003664
the adjective noun adjective

don't play with syntax if you don't know what you're doing

also rhyming only works when you also use meter

[Anonymous No.4004687]

>>3995290
Hell, might as well post another.

The oppressive yellow filth
forces its way in.
Takes over the green blanket
ignoring it's a sin.

A casual passerby,
views this unwanted war.
Discord versus conformity.
An everyday chore.

Calling in reinforcements.
Escalates to chemical warfare.
The cruel inhumanity,
because we couldn't share.

A fight for cleanliness,
and a fight for purity.
A useless endeavor.
A wasteful battle of immaturity.

[Anonymous No.4004694]

>>3995993
I see mine interspersed with some that are good and some that are shit so I'm not sure if you're being sincere and it makes me feel BAD.

[Anonymous No.4004745]

I want a girl like a spider
poised, you live in the shadow of my room
And ill catch you holding up loose threads,
tell you it doesnt matter cause youre with me now.
creep quietly and kiss me in bed
whisper to me in your arachnoid french
wonder how to devour me.
i want a girl like a spider, so i can call her ugly,
and crush her on the floor
tell myself at least im human,
Shouldnt mess around with misguided creatures.

[Anonymous No.4004776]

>>4004694
It may come as a surprise to you to learn, but people have different tastes, especially when it comes to poetry.

Tangentially-related, here's an experimental study on music up-take. tl;dr: mostly arbitrary unless you're the best or the worst.

http://www.princeton.edu/~mjs3/salganik_dodds_watts06_full.pdf

[Anonymous No.4004775]

>>4004694
I like all of them. Would you mind pointing out which ones are good and which are shit?

[Anonymous No.4004784]

>>3995934
Holy hell that's good. Do you have more? (Sincere. I really like it.)

[Anonymous No.4004801]

>>4004784
More as in more of that same poem? Sorry, no. I told you it was short. I don't like to write when I don't have inspiration. I don't like to force it. Except with essays.

If you mean just other poetry I've written, I've got more ITT

[Anonymous No.4004809]

bitches love sonnets

How can I profess my love for nature?
For she is the most elegant maiden,
But far too busy to hear my murmur.
For her ears are already most laden.

Maybe, I should shout it on a tall height.
So my statement pounds at the precipice.
But, I'd just be treated with the sad sight;
Of it being rejected by the abyss.

I know she will never hear the words,
And that's just the sadistic truth with life.
Maybe God wants me to remain unheard,
So that I can keep to myself this strife.

But, while the wind blew and played with the chime.
I knew, she was listening the whole time.

[Anonymous No.4004816]

>>4004687
I really like that.

Just a quick draft:


I want to try heroin

I wanna be burnt by seething flames of butane
as the crumbs of poppies sizzle and melt.
The trigger of the syringe will indent my thumb
and it will swallow that opiate milk
like some creature of the deep.

The barb will pierce my lifestream,
blood shooting up the barrel,
fusing into concoction.
And I will thrust that trigger with no regret,
plunging the chemical into my vein.

The silence will become church bells,
the floor will melt beneath me,
every skin pore will weep with relief.
And I will remain,
neither dead nor alive.

[Anonymous No.4004832]

>>4001305
Any feedback on this?

[Anonymous No.4004834]

God's a slag
And God is dead
God likes country
And Radiohead

God's a lion
And God's a bee
God likes indie
And God likes twee

God is Krishna
And God's the ground
God is Hampus
And God's a cloud

God's a white man
He's dressed in plaid
God's an old guy
Who killed my dad

[Anonymous No.4004839]

>>4004832
Is that about your home country or something? I really like it, especially the first four lines. Atlantic coast rock beaches is a bit awkward though, maybe cut it down a bit.

[Anonymous No.4004914]

Teresa does crack
at the back
of my car.

She removes her false teeth,

and,

like a fish,

she talks about her offspring:

She's down south round the Sound with her dad who picks peaches in summer.

In winter he sits around drinking and beating the girl.

but it's better than this.

Teresa don't cry
I say

One day I'll marry your girl.
I say

We'll pop out a brood.

and you,

you can brood too round the back of our house,

with that stable
of bastards whose fathers you only knew by flash of their wallet straps
you fucking slut.

[Anonymous No.4005142]

>>4004914
awesome, a pleasure to read

[Anonymous No.4005149]

>Teresa does crack
>at the back
>of my car.

What's with the clumsy line breaks?

>She removes her false teeth,

Before talking?

>and,

>like a fish,

>she talks about her offspring:

What's with the line breaks and the fish simile?

>She's down south round the Sound with her dad who picks peaches in summer.

>In winter he sits around drinking and beating the girl.

>but it's better than this.

>Teresa don't cry
>I say

>One day I'll marry your girl.
>I say

>We'll pop out a brood.

>and you,

>you can brood too round the back of our house,

>with that stable
>of bastards whose fathers you only knew by flash of their wallet straps


Wait. You'll pop out a brood with a crack whore, and it turned out that she was still whoring.

>you fucking slut.
You were asking for it, Cummings.

[Anonymous No.4005541]

>>4004839
It's about mixed cultures and stuff. I mean, Boothbay is in Maine on the Atlantic and the rest are referenced to Southeast Asia. I'm trying to jumble together incongruent imagery. I've written more and it's still very much a work in progress.

[Anonymous No.4005548]

this isn't very good but it's the only recognizable form of poetry i've written yet so fuck you

I want to sleep.
But there are bottles to hide and cigarette butts to throw away.
There are pretensions of coherence to maintain.
There are words that have to be written, expelled through a bodily process to relieve swelling of the brain.
There are voices that have to be satisfied with what I’m doing. There are concerns of worth that have to be addressed by thinking worthlessly of breaking cycles.
There are people to appeal to. There are personalities to keep up. There’s an image of nonchalance to be punctuated with mandatory expression.
There’s a robotic urge to procreate. There’s an emotional desire to reciprocate. There’s an intellectual strive to prove that I’m still alive.
There is a universe pressing down. There is the weight of faking a knowledge of the world. There is a buzzing that won’t go away.
There are things to do.

[Anonymous No.4005629]

>>3996007
this is good. make the capitalization consistent, get it off lit and publish it.

[Anonymous No.4005719]

>>3999224
>And this is why I don't post on /lit/. Thanks, guys.
mister fragilepants should have stayed home if he's going to get his balls busted so easily.

[Anonymous No.4005731]

>>4005719
you know, i legitimately want /lit/ to harshly criticize my writing so i can improve, but nobody ever does
i just want some slightly biased ball busting ;_;

[Anonymous No.4005744]

>>3995290
put yourself on the outside of this poem. if you heard someone reading it aloud, wouldn't you want to punch him in the teeth with a really fat brick?

your poem communicates nothing. if you're going to fix this problem, you're going to need concrete images and to use real words that communicate something to your reader. right now it is a pretentious wankfest. nobody cares about your expansive vocabulary.

[Anonymous No.4005750]

>>4001154
>originality is formed by knowing what has already been done.
anybody who had studied it or read it consistently would know that, too. thanks anon.

[Anonymous No.4005814]

i bet you all are the family runt
fuck all of you, your cunts
4chan seems to be the death of humanity
all you try to act so manly
look at me, im a man with emotion,
your stupid, kill yourself, you cant even comprehend the notion
of life and all there is to see
all you do is watch porn and waste your seed
lets pick on each other and try to be mean
that will surely give my life meaning
when i put other people down
it really does seem to turn my frown upside down
but lets be honest you'll never be happy
i mean just look at your face and all that acne
try to go fuck that fat girl with low self esteem
that'll boost your confidence, hide her face with your cream
im pretty sure you can go through life like this
thinking about how no one will ever miss you
just keep thinking the grass is greener on the other side
even though we know your just going to run and hide

but alas as you sit here and read this poem
im contemplating my life
i see that im just like you
another retard on a stupid forum

[Anonymous No.4005822]

>>4004834
that last stanza could be a poem in itself, by far the best from the poem

[Anonymous No.4005841]

I swear I’ll always see you, even when I close my eyes.
I always did believe you when you said that you would rise.
I watched you feed one thousand. I watched you feed four more.
Kingdom clean and unbounded, hidden beneath the cellar door.

Beneath the barren fig tree – you spoke there of faith and doubt –
Threw mountains into the sea, cursed my roots, and cast me out.
I watched you walk on water. I saw you, bathed in light.
I watched you walk on water. I could not follow if I tried (and I tried).

I watched the spear in your side bringing forth water and blood.
That river would not run dry ‘til it reached the throne of God.
I heard the tearing curtain, the temple clothed in dark.
The sky remained uncertain. I washed my tunic in the yard.

I heard the women weeping. I saw the empty tomb.
Recalled a virgin sleeping, a saviour growing in her womb.

[Anonymous No.4005963]

>>4005814
bumping for discussion

[Anonymous No.4005980]

>>4005814
As far as rhyme goes B+
It does what it was intended to do, in a rather crude way. Not all of us are like this, I'd argue most people on these shit splattered boards are actually quite normal, choosing to come here to escape the drudgery and chore of everyday existence.

[Anonymous No.4005988]

>>4005980
>tfw you are mocked when you express appreciation for the culture of 4chan

[Anonymous No.4006002]

>>3995913
That has potential.

[Anonymous No.4006019]

When you abandoned me,
and pushed me screaming
from the terraces of your big brown eyes,
I fell through the clouds and hit the ground,
all broken bones and sour luck.
I went and picked myself back up,
snapped the bones back into place,
said my curses, wept my tears,
and trudged off through the fog and gray.
And then, alone, day by day,
I emptied out the picture frames
where you once stood, where we once blamed
our sorrows on the falling rain
instead of one another.
Emptiness, my estranged lover,
is what I've known for all this while,
through sleepless nights, splintered thoughts,
with every frayed and faded smile
that I've stitched on since you've been gone,
since I was left abandoned.

Aside from it being lame and depressed, tell me what you think, /lit/.

[Anonymous No.4006062]

There once was a log
that sat in a bog.
It wasn't alone
for it had a bull frog.

[Anonymous No.4006079]

I am god: And god is within me, within it, within you. We are the whorls and satanic priests and creeping ivy: constructing the skyscrapers to hold off the guilt that plagues our souls. There is a fellow traveler and there are fellow travelers, I met an acolyte wandering the words and wondered whether I could see myself in them and I can. We are the flies: crawling and dying a hundred little deaths. Weak words can only express the weak thoughts you hold within and by Job by god by Jove I heard their screaming and heard it as my own (kin and kindling alike we all burn). Flies buzz smoke flies and we see, hear, taste, sense, the difference but there is no difference: we used words to construct the containers for nothingness which we project and hold dear, needed the alphabet to summon a void. Spell check spell avoid see her for the light she is (this is the unfiltered process) dear god somebody save us because it won’t be the fucking old days, as green as the tails of a peacock’s plume and I waited for you.

2deep4u

[Anonymous No.4006088]

>>4006079
>theinsectsfeastuponmygenitals.jpg

[Anonymous No.4006095]

>>3995130
Even though it is
Very hot in
Arizona,
It's dry heat, so it isn't that-
Bad. Somewhere like
Florida or-
Even Tennessee is worse,
Just because of the humidity

[Anonymous No.4006113]

Black and white cookie:
Diabetic's glare.
Two colors coming
Together as
One satisfying
desert treat.

[Anonymous No.4006138]

>>4006088
is it bad if i like writing meaningless stream of consciousness stuff?

[Anonymous No.4006160]

>>4006138
I don't care about that, it's just fucking cringey.

>dear god somebody save us because it won't be the fucking old days
What is this, a folk punk lyric?
>I am god: And god is within me
...
>We are the flies: crawling and dying a hundred little deaths
Edgy
>by Job by god by Jove I heard their screaming and heard it as my own
again.

[Anonymous No.4006169]

>>4006113
excpt for "diabetic's glare" this reads like advertising copy, and not even good advertising copy like on a trader joe's product. it's like what you might find in the description for one of these cookies on a menu in a diner in nevada, if the family that runs it had heard, once, of advertising copy, and maybe read the back of a bag of potato chips.

why do you think this is poetry even a little bit? have you ever read a single poem?

[Anonymous No.4006173]

>>4006138
yes. meaning is fun!!

[Anonymous No.4006182]

>>4006160
>implying i mean for anybody to take meaning away from it
those are just the words that seemed to go best at the time. it's not a dissertation on life
>>4006173
yeah. it's just a relaxing practice, sit down and put together words without reason.

[Anonymous No.4006183]

>>4006169
>2013
>Writing poetry that reads like what people expect poetry to read like

[Anonymous No.4006191]

>>3995183
yeah but it's like, just a collection of words that should show up in poetry? like, all of the images are POETRY IMAGES.

it's like if hollywood produced a poem.

[Anonymous No.4006203]

>>3995197
dope

[Anonymous No.4006204]

>>4001289
You are a failure.

>The Deep
>Tea Party
>Bed-Stuy
>Wu-Tang

yuck.

[Anonymous No.4006215]

>>3995547
i like the second stanza.

[Anonymous No.4006226]

>>3995865
>Army man
>Round six feet five [≈ average height of a human]
>Insect son
>Now he's dressed to kill and grown

[Anonymous No.4006235]

I am peripheral movement
I am a figure without form
I am a person seem from a distance
Rebirth to a new life transcribed in wires
From a new life
Growing to hate decisive moments
The only thing within a breath of real
So now I fall to my knees and beg in earnest
To what powers may govern the sky
Just let me sleep one night without these dreams
These dreams that always haunt me
Nothing
Life gets longer the day I realize
I can't breathe deeply enough to fill me
With every disappointment
Nothing Happens
And the man I might have been
Nothing Ever Happens
And all the great things that I will never do
Growing to hate decisive lows
All I can do is watch it pass
I resonate at the pitch of discontent
I am peripheral movement
Life gets longer today I realize
I can't breathe deeply enough to fill me
With every disappointment
And break my heart the way it deserves
Nothing Happens
And the man I might have been
Nothing Ever Happens
And all the great things that I will never do

[Anonymous No.4006241]

>>4006235
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xBjiYZiv5RE

[Anonymous No.4006302]

>>4006095
it's like the author "gets it", and then just stands there staring, not quite sure what to do with "it" now that he has it, like a wide receiver waiting to be tackled.

[Anonymous No.4006307]

>>4006062
stuck in my head now.

[Anonymous No.4006314]

>>4006019
i like the second stanza.

[Anonymous No.4006503]

>>4006302
elaborate

[Anonymous No.4006504]

In a kindergarten there was this girl,
and I apologize this might sound lame,
long hair the colour of dry dirt,
off-white and washed blue for shirt,
playing games, singing songs all too tame.

To spice up life for this sweet pearl
I thought we'd play the kissing game.
”But where can we play?” she asked
”Bring a blanky for cover,” I tasked
”Then teach won't find no-one to blame.”

Yet the teach us spotted, time to whirl.
”Jesus Christ!” screamed the dame.
”Thats him, call the police!”
I run slowly for I am obese.
Busted again, what a god damn shame.

[Anonymous No.4006508]

>>4006504
>and I apologize this might sound lame
Why would you write that?

[Anonymous No.4006557]

I don't believe when Poets claim that they
Are influenced by Jazz rhythms and breath-
Technique. They may have not even played an
Instrument. What about Poets that don't
Have any rhythm? Four beats per measure is
Too much to handle. I think I'll stick to
Counting out my rhythms in advance and the
Safety of planning my moves and not to
Be stuck not knowing what to do

[Anonymous No.4006615]

When you get what you want in your struggle for self,
And the world makes you king for a day,
Then go to the mirror and look at yourself,
And see what that man has to say,
For it isn't a man's father, mother or wife,
whose judgement upon him must pass,
The fellow whose verdict counts most in life,
Is the man staring back from the glass.
He's the fellow to please, never mind all the rest,
For he's with you clear to the end,
And you've passed your most dangerous, difficult test,
If the man in the glass is your friend

This was written by Dale Wimbrow and has a lot of meaning in my life right now, So I thought I'd share

[Anonymous No.4006713]

>>4005841
This one is the best, and I'm not even a Christian so no bias.

[Anonymous No.4006901]

___Roses are blue___


This night has no walls,
just dark blue that stretches

consecrating my regret
which howls softly like a musette
evoking tones from the empty bottles

I was trisyllabically challenged
(I never say what I don't believe)

She ran for experiences,
got bored in her no good
engineer, degreeless,
of the human soul; dreamy

like the moon which would hang there
regardless

of my booze-spawn entartete kunst

Cheers to alcohol! mistress
of degenerates
Blessed are the arms that carry bottles
and not children,
for theirs is the afterword

But she wouldn't listen

[Anonymous No.4006946]

Lyric:
Wrote a letter of things ill never tell you
like your good friends out to get you,
Hate your favorite color, sent the flowers by mistake,
Or how you got the wrong impression when we me under the influence
of alcohol, summer days and staying up to late.
C:
If i ever see you again and even if it kills me,
just enough to wake me up, woke me up when i was sleeping.
v2:
Yeah, well you got me speechless again,
Wonder if you were dreaming of when
you were younger in summer,
kicking up daisies baby, with the wind and the rain

[Anonymous No.4007024]

Something extempore:
To pilfer as a vagabond of myself
What thereof would be my pelf?
A paucity, it appears, of alimental wealth
Mercury, prithee, pity my poor health

[Anonymous No.4007088]

Another extempore
A sage once said honour is mere scutcheon
Though honour endues quite puissant seduction
And from this I've, bemused, met a deduction
Is evading honour, too, a shamed escutcheon,
though buckram production?
Pricketh me on
Pricketh me off
Of the two, death shall scoff

[Anonymous No.4007089]

>>4007088
though of*

[Anonymous No.4007533]

Be warned, this is my first ever attempt at poetry

Pretending I'm a poet
Writing, I'll never show it
Through these words I'll become enlightened
But no one will know
Of criticism I'm frightened
Since a long time ago
Projection
Rejection
Well I'll just have to hide
Alone I reside
Emotions bottled inside
Perhaps in you I'll confide?
No
It is mine own woe

[Anonymous No.4007618]

Night has fallen, and so have I,
From a horse with a spirit far surpassing mine,
To a newfound steed embodies my sloth,
And rouses my passions no more than my troth.

As my eyes droop, it gives a nicker,
A pathetic sound, weaker than a whisper.
Where has my stately destrier gone?
Its power, its pride, its majestic splendor?

Was it the crack of the whip that lashed its back?
That drained its vigor so,
Or perhaps the sting of my rusted spurs?
That brought it down so low.

I remember that fury, that fight, that spine,
As fought for my life and my seat,
I had roped me a horse better than me,
To carry me wherever I please.

But the reins on its neck and my weight on its back,
Must have taken their toll,
My stately destrier I beat to the ground,
Has yet to push back and rebound.

Animal subjugation is bad /lit/.

[Anonymous No.4007626]

>>4007618
Godamn just wrote that out and its kinda shitty, I should probably revise this, but I'm too lazy, so whatever.