/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.4615001]

Are there any musicians and lyricsts you consider to be poets?

And please don't say Bob Dylan

[Anonymous No.4615004]

>any X you consider to be Y?
>please don't say the supreme example of where X is Y

You're failing at life because your brain is broken.

[Anonymous No.4615006]

Eminem and Tupac. They could both be considered mediocre poets by the standards poets are weighed, but as rappers--'street' poets, if you will, though that's still unfair--I think they both display in their music an immense love of the language (Eminem more so) and a clear ability to effortlessly meld their words to a convincing pathos. Tupac never had the chance to grow (or diminish), so we're left with what we have, but Eminem, who has continued beyond his prime and continued to make decent songs here and there, still shows a technical command of the English language that many people mock but cannot emulate.

[Anonymous No.4615010]

>>4615001
what is the meaning of this picture

[Anonymous No.4615009]

Most, if not all.

Just because many aren't good at it, doesn't mean they are still not writing "literary art making use of aesthetic and rhythm."

Sure, some pop singers throughout the ages may not make use of aesthetic, but all make use of rhythm in some way.

It might not have deep psychological meaning or even be well thought-out in most cases, but Macklemore's lyrics are poetry, albeit, very simplistic poetry.

[Anonymous No.4615011]

>>4615001
Joanna Newsom writes lyrics that read well without a melody. Monkey and Bear is canon-tier.

[Anonymous No.4615018]

>>4615010
I like the picture because the boy is underage and has a scrunchy face with a crooked nose but I find him very attractive for some reason.

Also theres a closeness of his body language, like he's about to talk to me.

(yes I realize I am a creep)

[Anonymous No.4615022]

>>4615001
Nope.

The only way a lyricist is a poet is if he also writes poetry.

There are some great fucking lyricists, no doubt: Neil Young and Isaac Brock to name my favirote. Nas on Illmatic was excellent but only really on that album.

Lyrics =/= poetry. They're meant to be sung and one part of a song - pulling the lyrics out of a song kills them. You can pull out lyrics that are 10/10 and turn them into edgy shit because the reader doesn't have the inflection of voice and instrumentation to set the mood.

Not to say that they don't overlap and share a lot of features, but they're definitely not interchangeable.

[Anonymous No.4615027]

David Berman is a poet.

also fronts the band Silver Jews.

would highly recommend checking out a couple of songs, especially from the albums American Water or the Natural Bridge.

pic related

sample lyric:
Half hours on earth, what are
they worth, I don't know. In 27 years
I drank fifty thousand beers & they just
wash against me like the sea into a pier

[Anonymous No.4615028]

>>4615004
sure is pleb in here
go be born in the wrong generation somewhere else, faggot

[Anonymous No.4615034]

What's wrong with Bob Dylan?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q0OdNY8Aybw

[Anonymous No.4615039]

not poets, but certainly good lyricists: alex turner, pete doherty

[Anonymous No.4615040]

>>4615001

Leonard Cohen, I think he has even published a book.

[Anonymous No.4615044]

>>4615040
He has published several books.

[FiRez !!tndrCZJHE+I No.4615054]

I really like the the lyrics of Heroes del Silencio.

One of the few things that make me glad to be a native Spanish speaker.

[Anonymous No.4615057]

Leonard Cohen, Tom Waits, and yes, Bob Dylan.

[Anonymous No.4615062]

Nick Drake

[Anonymous No.4615111]

>>4615034
OP here and I eat my hat
shucks that stuff right there is where its at
and to think i said bob couldn't write at all
Well I wrung him and dried him and hung him in the hall
and took him and shrunk him inna something so small
when really his writing's like the violin in a music hall
or a sweet saxophone note, or a trumpets call
yes sir I said I eat my hat
for while I hate to admit it I kind of liked that.

[Anonymous No.4615114]

>>4615040
He actually started out in poetry before he began his music career.

How I wish I could get the chance to see him perform live.

[Anonymous No.4615115]

Isaac. Brock.

[waxbill No.4615124]

If the lakes took the place
Of the sea
If the cars drove themselves
Way to be
Opposite the trains moving in
Rivers run interstate, Michigan

[Anonymous No.4615127]

>>4615115
I sincerely agree.

>HAVE I TOLD YA? HAVE I TOLD YA?
>HAVE I TOLD YA? HAVE I TOLD YA?
>YOU CAN REALLY GET IT ON
>YOU CAN REALLY GET IT OOOOON

[Anonymous No.4615129]

>>4615034
do you have any more moving videos like htis

[Anonymous No.4615135]

>>4615127
Or, alternatively

You've got the harder part, You've got the kinder heart
And it's true
I've got the easy part, I've got the harder heart
Aint that true
Right wing, left wing, chicken wing
It's built on findin' the easier ways through
God is a woman and the woman is
An animal that animals man, and that's you

Was there a need for creation?
That was hidden in a math equation
And that's this
Where do circles begin?
Where do circles begin?

Yes Isaac Brock makes some of the most thought provocative, purposefully ineloquent lyrics of all time,

[Anonymous No.4615147]

>>4615018
IMO he looks annoyed, like I'm blocking his way and he's about to ask me to get out of the way so he can grab his towel.

[Anonymous No.4615151]

>>4615001
Patti Smith

[Anonymous No.4615152]

[Anonymous No.4615160]

>>4615027

Kanye

>monster
>mbtdf
>Yeezus
>"I wanna fuck you hard on the sink"
>"croissant"
>uh huh honey
>bittersweet taste made his gold tooth fade
>I think I just fell in love with a pornstar
>croissant

[Anonymous No.4615187]

>>4615151
How's that Oxford Anthology of Contemporary Poetry treating you? She sucks.

[Anonymous No.4615195]

>>4615006
Tupac is the single most overrated hip hop artist of all time, he is held up as some kind of martyr but in reality his beats were easy to listen to, typical g funk/west coast rap and his lyrics were lazy and contradictory.

[Anonymous No.4615197]

John Darnielle without a doubt

All Hail West Texas and Full Force Galesburg might as well be a collection of short stories.

[Anonymous No.4615198]

>>4615028
>calling others pleb
>tastes are too pleb to appreciate bob dylan
>does not compute

[Anonymous No.4615201]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ij6BjS3VqwE

Boots of spanish leather.
/thread

[Anonymous No.4615224]

>>4615001
ian curtis

[Anonymous No.4615229]

>>4615187
OP didn't ask for good poets.

[Anonymous No.4615243]

Joanna Newsom.
Ys is GOAT.

[Anonymous No.4615252]

Weird, I was listening to Modest Mouse last night and was thinking to myself about how I had never realized what a talented lyricist Isaac Brock is.

Also as far as lyrics go I like mewithoutYou, Conor Oberst, Okkervil River...the list could go on.

[Anonymous No.4615258]

Let my inspiration flow in token rhyme, suggesting rhythm,
That will not forsake you, till my tale is told and done.
While the firelights aglow, strange shadows from the flames will grow,
Till things weve never seen will seem familiar.

Shadows of a sailor, forming winds both foul and fair all swarm.
Down in carlisle, he loved a lady many years ago.
Here beside him stands a man, a soldier from the looks of him,
Who came through many fights, but lost at love.

While the story teller speaks, a door within the fire creaks;
Suddenly flies open, and a girl is standing there.
Eyes alight, with glowing hair, all that fancy paints as fair,
She takes her fan and throws it, in the lions den.

Which of you to gain me, tell, will risk uncertain pains of hell?
I will not forgive you if you will not take the chance.
The sailor gave at least a try, the soldier being much too wise,
Strategy was his strength, and not disaster.

The sailor, coming out again, the lady fairly leapt at him.
That's how it stands today. you decide if he was wise.
The story teller makes no choice. soon you will not hear his voice.
His job is to she'd light, and not to master.

Since the end is never told, we pay the teller off in gold,
In hopes he will return, but he cannot be bought or sold.

Terrapin station

Inspiration, move me brightly. light the song with sense and color;
Hold away despair, more than this I will not ask.
Faced with mysteries dark and vast, statements just seem vain at last.
Some rise, some fall, some climb, to get to terrapin.

Counting stars by candlelight, all are dim but one is bright;
The spiral light of venus, rising first and shining best,
On, from the northwest corner, of a brand new crescent moon,
While crickets and cicadas sing, a rare and different tune,
Terrapin station.

In the shadow of the moon, terrapin station.
And I know well get there soon, terrapin station.
I can't figure out, terrapin, if it's the end or beginning, terrapin,
But the trains put it's brakes on, terrapin,
And the whistle is screaming, terrapin.

[Anonymous No.4615276]

Tom Waits

[Anonymous No.4615309]

lol Jonathan Richman is a poet

[Anonymous No.4615330]

>>4615195
Do you think he was trying to appeal to the well educated masses? He adjusted his art to his audience, as he said in many interviews. He was trying to tell his ideas to those kids who lived on the streets. He actually pretty well articulated.

[Anonymous No.4615353]

>>4615309
road runner road runner!


Now I've watched you walk around here.
I've watched you meet these
boyfriends, I know, and you tell me how they're deep.
Look but, if these guys, if they're really so great,
tell me, why can't they at least take this place
and take it straight? Why always stoned,
like hippie Johnny is?
I'm straight and I want to take his place.
Oh I'm certainly not stoned, like hippie Johnny is.
I'm straight and I want to take his place.
I said, I'm straight
I said, I'm straight

[Anonymous No.4615361]

simon and garfuncle
tears for fears
the beatles
the doors
patti smith

[Anonymous No.4615362]

Patrick Stickles - lead singer of Titus Andronicus

highly recommended listening, especially The Monitor

[Anonymous No.4615376]

Maynard James Keenan. He's an excellent poet.

[Anonymous No.4615383]

>>4615018
I think that OP might have rather intense homosexual tendencies, making him what most might call, a fag.

[Anonymous No.4615399]

>>4615376
+1

[Anonymous No.4615403]

>>4615383
>confusing fag with pedo

[Anonymous No.4615529]

>>4615001
I thought I saw you in the battleship
But it was only a look a like
She was nothing but a vision trick
Under the warning light

She was close
Close enough to be your ghost
But my chances turned to toast
When I asked her if I could call her your name

I thought I saw you in the rusty hook
Huddled up in wicker chair
I wandered up for a closer look
And kissed who ever was sitting there

She was close
And she held me very tightly
Till I asked awfully politely
Please, can I call you her name?

And I elongated my lift home
Yeah, I let him go the long way 'round
I smelt your scent on the seat belt
And kept my shortcuts to myself

I thought I saw you in the parrot's beak
Messing with the smoke alarm
It was too loud for me to hear her speak
And she had a broken arm

It was close
So close that the walls were wet
And she wrote it out as in letraset
No, you can't call me her name

Tell me where's your hiding place?
I'm worried I'll forget your face
And I've asked everyone
I'm beginning to think I imagined you all along

I elongated my lift home
Yeah, I let him go the long way 'round
I smelt your scent on the seat belt
And kept my shortcuts to myself

I saw your sister in the cornerstone
On the phone to the middle man
When I saw that she was on her own
I thought she might understand

She was close
Well, you couldn't get much closer
She said, "I'm really not supposed to but yes
You can call me anything you want"

[Anonymous No.4615552]

>>4615027
vapid easy-listening tunes shat out of Jew York, no thanks

[Anonymous No.4615553]

Jandek.

Come @ me fuccbois.

[Anonymous No.4615554]

>>4615001

Matthew Good, definitely.

>Generation X-Wing
>thinking about your sister fucking me in the shower
>painting of Jesus, he's seen you naked a million times

[Anonymous No.4615557]

>>4615376
This x46 and 2

[Anonymous No.4615559]

Keith Buckley is amazing, here is some of Wanderlust by Every Time I Die.

I've drowned my conscience and cast another stone.
I took to preaching while dancing on the code.
I can't see where I've been and only god knows where I'll be.
But there must be a place for a wretch like me.

I tipped the scaffold and laughed until I fell.
Girl if you need me, grab another from the well.
I can't imagine what hell has in store,
But I know if I'm there I won't wander anymore.

We've lived under this dark cloud forever.
Waited for the bad light to break.

Just let me tell that one again,
With a little more feeling.
We slept at the crossroads together,
Tried to make an honest mistake.
Just let me tell that one more time,
Without a smile on my face.

And now the road is empty.
As every promise is.
If life is pointless then point taken, say amen.
So light another candle and point my body out to sea,
Because your heart is no place for a wretch like me.

Another stranger passing.
A common dissonance.
If life is pointless then point taken, say amen.
So light another candle and point my body out to sea,
Because your side is no place for a wretch like me.

When they unearth these passages,
Will I appear to be proud?
Not if you're listening close enough.
Not if you're sounding it out.

And there's this thing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jMvHNeFEzmw

[Anonymous No.4615567]

>>4615001
John Darnielle
Sufjan Stevens
Leonard Cohen (an actual poet also, so not sure if that counts)
Van Morrison
Joanna Newsom
Colin Meloy
Nas
Tom Waits

Those are some of my favourites aside from Dylan and I think they all trulky qualify as poets. Actually I think the modern folk and hip hop scenes display better poetry than most poetry written in the last 20-25 years. I think poetry needs to go back to its roots in rhythm and the spoken word as well as adopting a more pleasing structural formalism if it wants to keep up with the dynamism of its competitors in the folk and hip hop scenes

[Anonymous No.4615582]

>>4615040
The Favorite Game is a beautiful book.
Also wasn't he poet laureate for Canada at some point?

[Anonymous No.4615583]

>>4615160
absolutely glorious

[Anonymous No.4615589]

>>4615557
The tones he chooses perfectly match his prose. The last 2 albums were like cathedrals of modern music.

[Anonymous No.4615599]

>>4615001
of course

[Anonymous No.4615611]

>>4615001
These threads are fundamentally retarded because there is so much music out there that any musician even mentioned in this thread is getting more attention than they deserve.
Fuck off /mu/

[Anonymous No.4615614]

>>4615611

This board is fundamentally retarded because there are so many books out there that any author even mentioned on here is getting more attention than they deserve.

[Anonymous No.4615615]

>>4615018

...do you have any more?

[Anonymous No.4615620]

>>4615018
>>4615001

I am not gay and know what op is feeling.

some thing about his physique is giving me a huge hard on

[Anonymous No.4616016]

Tom Waits - Swordfishtrombones

Well he came home from the war
with a party in his head
and modified Brougham DeVille
and a pair of legs that opened up like butterfly wings
and a mad dog that wouldn't sit still
he went and took up with a Salvation Army Band girl
who played dirty water on a swordfishtrombone
he went to sleep at the bottom of Tenkiller lake
and he said "gee, but it's great to be home."

Well he came home from the war
with a party in his head
and an idea for a fireworks display
and he knew that he'd be ready with
a stainless steel machete
and a half a pint of Ballentine's each day
and he holed up in room above a hardware store
cryin' nothing there but Hollywood tears
and he put a spell on some
poor little Crutchfield girl
and stayed like that for 27 years

Well he packed up all his expectations
he lit out for California
with a flyswatter banjo on his knee
with a lucky tiger in his angel hair
and benzedrine for getting there
they found him in a eucalyptus tree
lieutenant got him a canary bird
and shaked her head with every word
and Chesterfielded moonbeams in a song
and he got 20 years for lovin' her
from some Oklahoma governor
said everything this Doughboy
does is wrong

Now some say he's doing
the obituary mambo
and some say he's hanging on the wall
perhaps this yarn's the only thing
that holds this man together
some say he was never here at all

Some say they saw him down in
Birmingham, sleeping in a
boxcar going by
and if you think that you can tell a bigger tale
I swear to God you'd have to tell a lie...

[Anonymous No.4616024]

>>4616016

RUSH - 2112

I wandered home through the silent streets
And fell into a fitful sleep
Escape to realms beyond the night
Dream can't you show me the light?

I stand atop a spiral stair
An oracle confronts me there
He leads me on light years away
Through astral nights, galactic days
I see the works of gifted hands
That grace this strange and wondrous land
I see the hand of man arise
With hungry mind and open eyes

They left the planet long ago
The elder race still learn and grow
Their power grows with purpose strong
To claim the home where they belong
Home to tear the Temples down...
Home to change!

[Anonymous No.4616027]

When this dude really tries
he's GOAT

[Anonymous No.4616029]

>>4616024

Phil Ochs - I ain't marchin anymore

Oh I marched to the battle of New Orleans
At the end of the early British war
The young land started growing
The young blood started flowing
But I ain't marchin' anymore

For I've killed my share of Indians
In a thousand different fights
I was there at the Little Big Horn
I heard many men lying
I saw many more dying
But I ain't marchin' anymore

(chorus: It's always the old to lead us to the war
It's always the young to fall
Now look at all we've won with the sabre and the gun
Tell me is it worth it all)

For I stole California from the Mexican land
Fought in the bloody Civil War
Yes I even killed my brother
And so many others
And I ain't marchin' anymore

For I marched to the battles of the German trench
In a war that was bound to end all wars
Oh I must have killed a million men
And now they want me back again
But I ain't marchin' anymore

(chorus)

For I flew the final mission in the Japanese sky
Set off the mighty mushroom roar
When I saw the cities burning
I knew that I was learning
That I ain't marchin' anymore

Now the labor leader's screamin' when they close the missile plants,
United Fruit screams at the Cuban shore,
Call it "Peace" or call it "Treason,"
Call it "Love" or call it "Reason,"
But I ain't marchin' any more.

[Anonymous No.4616040]

Conor Oberst

[Anonymous No.4616045]

>>4616040
"To Love and to be Loved"

Well, the animals laugh from the dark of the wilderness
A baby cries hard in an apartment complex
As I pass in a car buried under the influence
The city's driving me out of my mind

Ive seen a child, he's caught in the sad trap of gravity
He falls from the lowest branch of the apple tree
And lands in the grass and weeps for his dignity
Next time he will not aim so high, yeah, next time neither will I

Now, a mother takes loans out, sends her kids off to colleges
Her familys reduced to names on a shoppin' list
While a coroner kneels beneath a great wooden crucifix
He knows there's worse things than bein' alone

And so Ive learned to retreat at the first sign of danger
I mean, why wait around, if it's just to surrender?
An ambition, Ive found, can lead only to failure
I do not read the reviews, no, I am not singin' for you

Well, I stood droppin' a coin into the pit of a well
And I would throw my whole billfold if I thought it would help
With all these wishes I make, I should buy somethin' real
At least a telephone call home

Well, my teachers, they built this retaining wall memory
All those multiple choices I answered so quickly
And got my grades back and forgot just as easily
But at least I got an A and so I don't have them to blame

Well, I should stop pointing fingers, reserve my judgment
Of all those public action figures, the cowboy presidents
So loud behind the bullhorn, so proud they can't admit
When they've made a mistake

While poison ink spews from a speechwriter's pen
He knows he don't have to say it, so it, it don't bother him
'Honesty, accuracy is just popular opinion
And the approval rating's high and so someone's gonna die

Well, ABC, NBC, CBS, bullshit
They give us fact or fiction? I guess an even split
And each new act of war is tonight's entertainment
We're still the pawns in their game

As they take eye for an eye until no one can see
We must stumble blindly forward, repeatin' history
Well, I guess we all fit into your slogan on that fast food marquee
Red-blooded, white-skinned, oh and the Blues, oh and the Blues
I got the Blues, that's me, that's me

Well, I awoke in relief, my sheets and tubes were all tangled
Weak from whiskey and pills in a Chicago hospital
And my father was there in a chair by the window
Starin' so far away

I tried talking, just whispered, "So sorry, so selfish"
He stopped me and said, "Child, I love you regardless
And there is nothing you could do that would ever change this
I'm not angry, it happens, but you just can't do it again"

And so now I try to keep up, Ive been exchangin' my currency
While a million objects pass through my periphery
Now Im rubbin' my eyes 'cause theyre startin' to bother me
Ive been starin' too long at the screen

But where was it when I first heard that sweet sound of humility?
It came to my ears in the goddamn loveliest melody
How grateful I was then to be part of the mystery
To love and to be loved, let's just hope that is enough

[Anonymous No.4616048]

Eugene Hutz from Gogol Bordello

www.youtube.com/watch?v=VchhZhi2cdQ

[Anonymous No.4616050]

>>4615599
Obligatory, of course.

Tim Buckley is quite poetic in my mind at least.

[Anonymous No.4616056]

seriously though, that flow.

[Anonymous No.4616057]

>>4615001
Ich war getrieben vom Weltschmerz, ertrank in süßer Tristes
Verfasste Pamphlete des Jähzorns und bebte beim Mikrophoncheck
Ich spuckte Gift, meine Welt war düster verhangen
Doch mit jeder Träne aus Zorn füllte ich Zeilen mit fiebriger Hand
Der alte Mann auf der Wolke lächelte streng
Er ließ mich die Nächte nicht pennen, Gott ist mein besessener Fan
Ich torkelte nackt durch den Regenguss und sprang vom Balkon
Doch all mein Leid in der Brust steigert sein Amüsment
Ich lernte zu lieben, er schickte sie zur Krebstherapie
Und pumpte die traurigen Songs auf meinem nächsten Release
Ja, Gott ist mein Fan und zeigt sich die Welt in stralendem Glanz
Lässt er die Vögel verstummen und hüllt die Wolken in schwarzes Gewand
Er gibt mir die Zeit nicht, dass die Narben verheilen
Denn er weiß, durch Schmerzen gedeit Talent wird zu wahrer Gestalt
Und so spitz ich den Stift im Dickicht eines Problembezirks
Und errichte mein Lebenswerk inmitten des Tränenbergs

Er pumpt meine Songs auf der Wolke, denn Dein Gott ist mein Fan
Doch verzieht sich der Himmel, ist ihm dein Mitleid fremd
Denn solang ich mich täglich durch diesen Rinnstein kämpf
Bin ich in seiner Playlist, denn dein Gott ist mein Fan
Ja solang in mir das Lichtlein brennt
Leb ich in Qualen, bis mich sein Giftpfeil bremst
Und wenn am Firmament ein Lichtschweif glänzt
Bete ich zu Gott, denn dieser ist mein Fan

Seit Wochen quält mich Migräne, die Feder schmerzt in der Hand
Mein Sinn entschweift in die Ferne, doch wütend fährt er mich an
Er gibt erst Ruh, wenn mein Klagen aus seinem Radio tönt
Er lächelt milde und zimmert mein täglich Drama Konkret
Selbst an den sonnigen Tagen, geh ich gebückt
Unter der Glocke aus Wolken, die stetig regnet und blitzt
Die Wichser gehen auf mich wann immer Scheiße passiert
Die Galgen spielen ihre weisen Mühle in alter Manier
Ich hab am Leben gezweifelt und fast die Kurve gekratzt
Gott hat mich lachenden Auges zum Misanthropen gemacht
Er brachte mir eine Schale mit der verbotenen Frucht
Das Feuerwasser, die Muschis und meine Opiumsucht
So harre ich meine Martyrium bis zum Jüngsten Gericht
Ist nicht genügend der Pathos triefend in Tinte verspritzt
Dein dickes Bündel mit klebrigen Scheinen trocknet die Tränen
Ich fleh zu Gott und beginne die nächste Doppel-LP

Er pumpt meine Songs auf der Wolke, denn Dein Gott ist mein Fan
Doch verzieht sich der Himmel, ist ihm dein Mitleid fremd
Denn solang ich mich täglich durch diesen Rinnstein kämpf
Bin ich in seiner Playlist, denn dein Gott ist mein Fan
Ja solang in mir das Lichtlein brennt
Leb ich in Qualen, bis mich sein Giftpfeil bremst
Und wenn am Firmament ein Lichtschweif glänzt
Bete ich zu Gott, denn dieser ist mein Fan

[Anonymous No.4616067]

>ctrl f
>Scott walker
>no hits
Wtf. The Drift anyone?

[Anonymous No.4616070]

Roger Waters

[Anonymous No.4616076]

the guy from the national

>We'll take ourselves out in the street
>And wear the blood in our cheeks
>Like red roses
>We'll go from car to sleeping car
>And whisper in their sleeping ears
>We were here, we were here
>We'll set off the geese of Beverly Road

>Hey, love, we'll get away with it
>We'll run like we're awesome, totally genius
>Hey, love, we'll get away with it
>We'll run like we're awesome

>We won't be disappointed
>We'll fight like girls for our place at the table
>Our room on the floor
>We'll set off the geese of Beverly Road

>We're the heirs to the glimmering world

[Anonymous No.4616078]

>>4616067
>implying /lit/'s ever heard of Scott Walker.

[Anonymous No.4616079]

>>4615022
>mentions Neil Young
>mentions God Himself
i like this guy

[Anonymous No.4616086]

>>4616078
good point.

[Anonymous No.4616088]

>>4616078
don't be silly, you're the only special snowflake here with that good music taste

[Anonymous No.4616094]

Most rapper lyricists are really good.
Some metal bands have decent.
Some pop stars are pretty meta

[Anonymous No.4616167]

>>4615353
i know its kind of a joke but


When I eat like I do it,
I use not fork nor spoon
No grace or culture to it
When I call my own tune.

For I eat with gusto, damn you bet
A regular canine cruncher
Except truth be told I'm sloppier yet
Than many a dog food muncher
I eat a pound I eat a ton
And no there ain't much I cuts up
And while I'm having merry fun
Bystanders puke their guts up.

The FBI sent someone by
Who handles health affairs
I had not finished my cream pie
When he chanced up the stairs
Why did he turn the other way?
Why did he leave so quick?
Will he come back another day?
Did something make him sick?

I eat with gusto damn you bet
A regular doggie diner
"No don't bring me napkins waiter sir,
Just bring some trash can liner."

Whilst wandering by a juice bar
I spied a tempting beverage
Since I would have been last in line
I used my fearsome leverage
For in my pocket was some food
Which I took from the wrapper
The patrons watched it being chewed
And of course headed for the crapper.

For I eat with gusto damn you bet
For gusto I'm the boss
For yea my nose it is in the salad
And lo my chin it is in the sauce
I eat with gusto damn you bet
We're sailing around the cape
"Keel-haul him," said the Bosun
"There must be no escape."

One sunny day in Paris an elegant cafe
A phone call there a phone call here
And the gendarmes took me away

I said "qu'est-ce qui se passe ici"
I said " mais qu'est-ce que c'est"
They said "Such eating it is criminal
And crime it does not pay."

For I eat with gusto damn you bet.
My banner yea unfurled
My shirt is covered with mustard
And my hair with ketchup curled

Goodbye to Egypt, Greece and Rome
The ancient world goodbye.
May squalor be my summer home
And filth be my neck tie.

For I eat with gusto damn you bet.
Uh, I eat with gusto damn you bet
My country tis of thee
I eat for social progress
I eat for victory

Somebody died who watched me eat
In a restaurant one spell
He woke up and saw me eating beans
And knew that he'd gone to hell

For Uh, "He eats with gusto damn we bet."
They're calling from the south
They want to stop my gusto
They want to close my mouth
"You eat with gusto, yeah that's great
Now let us off this bus."
Wait a minute I haven't finished eating up stuff yet.
"We'll call you, don't call us."

[Anonymous No.4616168]

Maynard J Keenan for one. I'm sure there's several.

[Anonymous No.4616178]

>>4615229
Excuse me then, I'll amend my statement. She sucks and is not a poet. She proclaimed herself a poet as a means to fight her fading into obscurity. Her worth died with the punk movement.

[Anonymous No.4616183]

Peter Steele of Type O Negative. His lyrics are poetic. Although if he was still alive and you called him a poet to his face, then he would likely call you a faggot.

[Anonymous No.4616189]

Mark Kozelek is a GENIUS. I absolutely love his latest album "Benji". Its basically free verse poetry in the form of song. Give the first track a listen. If you like it you'll like the whole album. His old band, Red House Painters, are also excellent.

Pretty sure the cover of the album is a big yellow field because the in the family dog movie also titled Benji, there's a line where a character says, "When dogs die, I'm pretty sure they go to a big golden field where they can run forever and ever..." quite a depressing but beautiful moment from a family movie. That describes the whole album pretty well anyways. Beautiful, but depressing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GBNdOTu2Wn0

Oh, Carissa when I first saw you
You were a lovely child
And the last time I saw you
You were 15 and pregnant and running wild

I remember wondering could there be a light at the end of your tunnel
But I left Ohio then and had pretty much forgotten all about you
I guess you were there some years ago at a family funeral
But you were one of so many relatives I didn't know which one was you

Yesterday morning I woke up to so many 330 area code calls
I called my mom back and she was in tears and asked had I spoke to my father
Carissa burned to death last night in a freak accident fire
In her yard in Brewster her daughter came home from a party and found her

Same way as my uncle who was her grandfather
An aerosol can blew up in the trash, goddamn what were the odds?
She was just getting ready to go to her midnight shift as an RN in Wadsworth
Then she vanished up in flames like that but there had to be more to her life's worth
Everyone's grieving out of their minds making arrangements and taking drugs
But I'm flying out there tomorrow because I need to give and get some hugs
Cause I got questions that I'd like to get answered
I may never get them, but Carissa I gotta know how did it happen?

Carissa was 35
You don't just raise two kids, and take out your trash and die
She was my second cousin, I didn't know her well at all
But that doesn't mean that I wasn't
Meant to find some poetry to make some sense of this, to find a deeper meaning
In this senseless tragedy, oh Carissa I'll sing your name across every sea

[Anonymous No.4616209]

i took my shirt off in the yard
no one saw that the skin on my shoulders was golden
now it's not
my shirt's back on
i forgot my songs
the glow is gone
my gliding body stopped

i could not get through september without a battle
i faced death
i went in with my arms swinging
but i heard my own breath
i had to face that i'm still living

i'm still flesh
i hold on to life with feelings

i'm not dead
there's no end
my face is red
my blood flows harshly

my heart beats loudly

my chest still draws breath
i hold it
i'm boiling
ooh oh oh
there's no end

[Anonymous No.4616218]

>>4616209
there's no end, there's no glory, there's a slow resounding story
there's no place to feel certain, there's nobody waiting for me
there's no stand of trees, no morning, there's a curve without a warning
there is weird and lasting sadness, there's no large and lengthy warming
there's no heat, there's no expansion, there's no door into the mansion
lengthy warming, sweet removal, sweet expanse sweet and substantial
there's no flesh, there's no fingers in my hair, i see a tunnel
we built walls, tall and solid between the treasure and the shovel
i see an inn i see a fountain, there's a trail over the mountain
there's no wayside, there's no stopping and the peak is wide and rocky
there's no ceiling in the mansion, there's no waste no hesitation
there's no crack of dawn no morning, just an everlasting warming

[Anonymous No.4616251]

Juice Leskinen

[Anonymous No.4616291]

>>4616178
no matter how much you complain,

no matter what you do for the rest of you're life, you'll never matter to as many people as Patti.

[Anonymous No.4616298]

FUCK OFF GAY PEDO IRAQI

[Anonymous No.4616307]

>>4616209
phil elverum does not write lyrics on the level of good poetry at all. every fucking one of these threads this stuff gets posted and its just not really any good

[Anonymous No.4616312]

>>4616291
>mattering to others
I really could not care less about how much I will or will not mean to others. I generally feel indifferent towards or hate those I come in contact with. (inb4: butthurt faggot)

It is funny that you're trying to use her notoriety to justify her worth as a poet. So what if people value her? That doesn't make her a poet, much less a good one. Her verse is plain, shallow, and lame.
The inclusion of her poem "Dreams of Rimbaud" in Oxford's anthology is pandering to those who wasted their time and energy devoting themselves to her. The same goes for Dylan's "Desolation Row." Neither of those pieces are poetry. They are lyrics that the writer and their fans claim are poetry to try and inflate the actual worth of those musicians.
Hey, it's great you enjoy her work. However, that doesn't make her anything more than what she is, a washed-up punk rocker. Say hello to the 70s for me.

[Anonymous No.4616318]

Dose One
http://grooveshark.com/#!/s/Art+Saved+My+Life+71/17rlN?src=5

And Leonard Cohen
http://grooveshark.com/#!/search/song?q=Leonard+Cohen+Anthem+%28Live+In+London%29

[Anonymous No.4616324]

>>4615022
Spoken word is just poetry with music behind it, but it's usually confused for hip hop. James Honey is a good example of a poet/musician (not the other way around)

[Anonymous No.4616329]

>>4615001
I like Peter Doherty

[Anonymous No.4616332]

>>4615151
She's just a Rock and Roll Nigger.

[Anonymous No.4616336]

>>4615309
yes

[Anonymous No.4616345]

>>4615611
What the fuck does that mean? Art appreciation is it's own reward

[Anonymous No.4616353]

Simon and Garfunkel.

Poem on the underground wall in particular is a good example. Sound of silence would be an obvious candidate example too.

[Anonymous No.4616432]

This Heat - Deceit feels a lot like modernist/dadaist poetry with its fragmented forms and themes of post-war civilisation and modern decay

RHUBARB RHUBARB