/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.4635052]

1/2

I made a girl cry today with a poem (not a good poem – I wrote it very fast, and used no metric scheme or rhyme, a funny thing because I don’t like free verse).

I was in love with her for a long time, but she was dating my cousin. They broke up, and some months after this I confessed my love to her, and to my surprise she answer that she also was in love with me for a long time, but did not dare to say anything because of my cousin.

We are sleeping together, and I think that we are going to date in the future (after my cousin forgets her – the boy is still suffering a lot).

Anyway, I wrote this poem today, and she broke in tears in front of me:

Naked in my sheets, you are a warm and fragrant nest,
An island of swans, amid the ghostly albino icy sea of the empty bed.
When I embrace you, when I feel your warm breasts pressed against my chest,
It's like if you fed me with your warmth,
As if my lungs could drink the vitality that curls inside of you:
You are the hot and sweet breath that fills the cavity of my ribs with caresses.
When I hold you, when I smell your skin,
And the softness of your body,
I enter a state of perfect happiness,
I drown in your being, in the deluge of your graces;
And if the angels descend from the heavens and promised me that this would be eternity,
To be forever joined to you, with my veins entangled in your veins,
With my heart kissing your heart every heartbeat,
If they promised me that this would be eternity,
I would walk smiling toward death:
Depart into the abyss as a to a long desired bed.
So many were the nights in which I touched the cool sheets dreaming to touch your skin;
So many nights I hugged the inanimate pillow
Dreaming that it was your body that was dissolving against my sweet-salivating skin;
So many nights where fantasies danced over my eyelids
And mirages sat on my pupils to mock my hunger.
But at last I possessed you,
At last the real world of fertility crept into my gray world of ashes:
Happiness, that shy bird that always avoided me,
Now made its nest of golden straw in my heart.
There is no way to mine all the riches of your body,
To dig all the diamonds of your soul:
Even if eternity was given to me as a gift,
The endless chain of centuries and millennia as a private garden,
I could not exhaust all the riches, all the simple and perfect details
That lurk in you.
There would always be a small unknown rose, a forgotten ruby,
A sapphire, a coral lost somewhere,
And the gigantic electric jungle of your neurons,
The forge of so many wonders and nursery of unnamed glories.

[Anonymous No.4635062]

2/2

When death takes us, if I meet you in heaven,
I want to take you by the hand to the pools of light,
The lakes where honey of stars flows in dams,
And I want to bathe your naked body with this warm and bright milk;
I want to lather your body with the foam of nebulae,
And caress you in front of the angels, before the gods,
And see in the eyes of this primordial entourage
The comprehension that the entwine of our bodies is beauty,
A beauty in which I which I want and drown,
As a hummingbird drowning in nectar and honey.

[Anonymous No.4635066]

New Sincerity everyone.

[Anonymous No.4635067]

>>4635062
>A beauty in which I which I want and drown,

*A beauty in which I want to drown

The original poem is in portuguese

[Anonymous No.4635069]

dat archaic WC

[Anonymous No.4635070]

>>4635052
>ghostly albino icy sea of the empty bed.
2manyadjectives4me

[Anonymous No.4635260]

>tfw no gf

[Anonymous No.4635267]

>>4635260
weird entrance wound for a suicide

[Anonymous No.4635289]

>your blog
>your shrine

[Anonymous No.4635336]

>>4635289

It's a good poem, tho

[Anonymous No.4635355]

>>4635067
Post original please.

[Anonymous No.4635389]

>>4635355

Nua, em meus lençóis, tu és um ninho morno e perfumado,
Uma ilha de cisnes, em meio ao albino mar, oceano espectral e gelado, da cama vazia.
Quando eu te abraço, quando sinto teus seios quentes apertados contra meu peito,
É como se você me alimentasse com seu calor,
Como se meus pulmões pudessem beber da vitalidade que ondula dentro de ti:
És o hálito quente e doce que preenche a cavidade de minhas costelas com carícias.
Quando eu te abraço, quando sinto o cheiro de tua pele,
E a maciez do teu corpo,
Eu entro num perfeito estado de felicidade,
Eu me afogo em teu ser, no dilúvio de tuas graças;
Se os anjos descessem dos céus e me prometessem que essa seria a eternidade:
Estar para sempre unido a ti, com minhas veias enredadas nas tuas,
Com meu coração beijando o teu coração a cada pulsação,
Se me prometessem que essa seria a eternidade,
Eu partiria, sorrindo, para a morte:
Partiria para o abismo como para um leito há muito desejado.
Tantas foram as noites em que toquei lençóis frios sonhando tocar tua pele;
Tantas as noites que abracei o travesseiro inanimado
Sonhando que era teu corpo que se dissolvia contra minha pele salivante de suor;
Tantas as noites em que fantasias dançaram sobre minhas pálpebras
E miragens sentaram-se sobre minhas pupilas, a zombar de minha fome.
Mas enfim eu te possuí;
Enfim o verdadeiro mundo de fertilidade penetrou em meu mundo de cinzas:
A felicidade, ave tímida que tanto me evitou,
Agora fez seu ninho de palha dourada em meu coração.
Não há como minerar todas as riquezas de teu corpo,
Como escavar todos os diamantes de tua alma:
Mesmo que me dessem a eternidade por presente,
A corrente infinita dos séculos e dos milênios por jardim particular,
Eu não conseguiria esgotar todas as riquezas, todos os detalhes simples e perfeitos
Que se escondem em ti.
Sempre haveria uma pequena rosa desconhecida, um rubi esquecido,
Uma safira perdida em algum canto
E a gigantesca selva elétrica de teus neurônios,
A forja de tantas maravilhas e berçário de glórias inominadas.
Quando a morte nos levar, se eu te encontrar nos céus,
Quero te levar para as piscinas de luz,
Os lagos onde o mel das estrelas escorre em açudes,
E quero dar banho no teu corpo nu com esse leite morno e luminoso;
Quero ensaboar teu corpo com espuma de nebulosas,
E te acariciar na frente dos anjos, na frente dos deuses,
E ver nos olhos dessa comitiva primordial
A compreensão de que o enlaçar de nossos corpos é a beleza,
Uma beleza na qual quero me afogar,
Como um beija-flor afogando-se em néctar e mel.

[Anonymous No.4635490]

>>4635389
Lirismo é o que considero o ponto mais forte do português.

Keep up the good work anon.

[Anonymous No.4635595]

>>4635490

Muito obrigado. Esse elogio singelo significou muito para mim. Obrigado.

[Anonymous No.4636028]

>>4635267
yea who shoots themselves directly in the forehead
the feels this guy felt were the ones of despair and fear as he saw a spiraling grooves inside a cold barrel which would soon deliver the fatal hunk of lead into his frontal bone, through his frontal lobe, parietal lob, and out his parietal bone and end his wretched feels

[Anonymous No.4636039]

>>4635052
>>4635490
>>4635595
>>4635389

Não sabia que haviam outros Brs no /lit/

Cheers mates

[Anonymous No.4636052]

>>4635389
> Com meu coração beijando o teu coração a cada pulsação,
i don't really understand or like poems, but that is a beautiful image if i ever read one. can't give an opinion on the whole work, but damn, that verse is really good.

[Anonymous No.4636055]

>>4635267
sounds like we have a murder on our hands, chief!

[Anonymous No.4636159]

>>4636039
>>4636052

Thank you guys very much: it means a lot to me. In spite of the fact that we are all trolling each other most of the time here the truth is that most people around here are well read and cultured, and fully able to provide great criticism. The anonymity too is of much value, for nobody here needs to do the social right-thing and compliment someone just in order to avoid hurting his/her feelings.

For that reason I tend to value /lit/s opinion. To be fair I hardly post anything, because I know my work is not that good and I fear the consequences. It's a weak person characteristic, I know, but I am fight to overcome it.

Thank you.

E sim, sou Brasileiro. Para falar a verdade já conheci alguns brasileiros aqui no /lit/, todos em geral muito educados. É bom ouvir nossa língua mãe de vez em quando em meio ao inglês.

Muito obrigado.

[Anonymous No.4636949]

I love Audrey. So cute.

[Anonymous No.4636980]

>>4635052
wow, this is still good in english. who would have ever thought a BR would have it in him'

Writing to make someone weep's a dream of mine. too bad she doesn't love me back

[Anonymous No.4636982]

As a woman I definitely find that sexually enticing. 10/10 would swoon

Good work, OP

[Anonymous No.4636990]

>>4635052
>>4635062

it's very purple but you show promise as a writer m8. don't stop.

[Anonymous No.4637032]

>>4636159

i love your poem

that being said, i can't agree with your sentiments towards /lit/

time and time again it has been brought home to me that the majority of posters on here are barely above average individuals with a variety of inferiority and special snowflake complexes

they routinely ridicule and bicker over distinguished works of great authors without a shred of integrity. it really is disgusting to watch

[Anonymous No.4637039]

>>4635052
This is a decent first rough draft, but it needs some work. I like it, so ill give a critique.

Naked in my sheets, you are a warm and fragrant nest,
>Not bad with nest, but this could be better.

An island of swans, amid the ghostly albino icy sea of the empty bed.
>Lose the swans, it doesnt give any clear image. If anything its a phallic image. I like the way you describe the sheets, maybe use this for the first line and combine the two, that way you have a sharp contrast. For example.

>Naked amid the ghostly white icy sea of bed sheets, you are a warm and fragrant nest,

When I embrace you, when I feel your warm breasts pressed against my chest,
It's like if you fed me with your warmth,
As if my lungs could drink the vitality that curls inside of you:
>Find a different way to talk about the heat she gives off. I dont know what it means to eat heat, or how vitality can curl.

You are the hot and sweet breath that fills the cavity of my ribs with caresses.
>I like the breath, not the rest

When I hold you, when I smell your skin,
And the softness of your body,
I enter a state of perfect happiness,
>Lose this flat out.

I drown in your being, in the deluge of your graces;
And if the angels descend from the heavens and promised me that this would be eternity,
>I dont like this image, why not stay with the nice image you created of the bed sheets? Keep to one image, constantly contrast this sea of cold bed sheets to her warm body. I DO like this mention of death, and-

To be forever joined to you, with my veins entangled in your veins,
>I like this. I dont know why, but entangled veins is a nice image

With my heart kissing your heart every heartbeat,
If they promised me that this would be eternity,
I would walk smiling toward death:
>Say this in a different way, again the thing with death is nice, but this heart kiss heart stuff is meh

Depart into the abyss as a to a long desired bed.
So many were the nights in which I touched the cool sheets dreaming to touch your skin;
So many nights I hugged the inanimate pillow
Dreaming that it was your body that was dissolving against my sweet-salivating skin;
So many nights where fantasies danced over my eyelids
And mirages sat on my pupils to mock my hunger.
>This entire section needs to be redone. Think of an image that can really portray this.

But at last I possessed you,
At last the real world of fertility crept into my gray world of ashes:
Happiness, that shy bird that always avoided me,
Now made its nest of golden straw in my heart.
>I like that bring the bird/nest thing back, but again, you have this mixed in with other images that really dont strengthen the poem.

There is no way to mine all the riches of your body,
To dig all the diamonds of your soul:
Even if eternity was given to me as a gift,
The endless chain of centuries and millennia as a private garden,
>Again, same thing. These images are not really related, and this is starting to become repetitive

Continued

[Anonymous No.4637053]

>>4637039
I could not exhaust all the riches, all the simple and perfect details
That lurk in you.
>nice

There would always be a small unknown rose, a forgotten ruby,
A sapphire, a coral lost somewhere,
>Lose this mineral and gem stuff. Its overdone and doesnt do anything unless your reader loves gems

And the gigantic electric jungle of your neurons,
The forge of so many wonders and nursery of unnamed glories.
>I like this

When death takes us, if I meet you in heaven,
I want to take you by the hand to the pools of light,
The lakes where honey of stars flows in dams,
And I want to bathe your naked body with this warm and bright milk;
I want to lather your body with the foam of nebulae,
And caress you in front of the angels, before the gods,
And see in the eyes of this primordial entourage
The comprehension that the entwine of our bodies is beauty,
A beauty in which I which I want and drown,
As a hummingbird drowning in nectar and honey.
>This whole bit about the milks and nectar in heaven is very nice. Calm down on the mention of gods and angels, focus more on the scenery of heaven. You have an imaginary heaven to describe, why waste words on angels and gods

So overall, take this poem and connect it over and over again with similar images.

You have a nice image with cold bed sheets, and a girl giving warmth like a nest.

You have some nice wordplay with that neuron line.

You have nice images with heavens milk and all that.

Try and think of how this could be turned into a short story (just think it out, dont write it). What would these two characters be doing? How could you connect this conversation through actions. How can you connect an icy bed sheet to the milk of heaven?

Good luck. Heres some Yotsuba, to remind of you good innocence.

[Anonymous No.4637066]

you're horny, baby's first sex. this poem has been written 10,000 times already. you shouldn't be showing us this, it's only meant for the girl.


why would you even want to show us this? don't you think it's a more effective piece of art if she's the only one who reads it.... think of your audience for chrissake

[Anonymous No.4637084]

>>4635052
you show promise as a writer, but there are too many adjectives and descriptions - especially for prose

you could cut 3/4 of that poem and it would still tell the same story

[Anonymous No.4637092]

it reads like a creative writing 101 assessment

it lacks originality and relies on cliches

ultimately its babbys first prose

[Anonymous No.4637100]

if you are writing in free verse why are you structuring it like standard poetry? write in full sentences

[Anonymous No.4637220]

>>4637066

>why would you even want to show us this? don't you think it's a more effective piece of art if she's the only one who reads it

This point alone proves how fake OP is as a person.

I hope she forgets this zero and his constant need for approval.

>Anyway, I wrote this poem today, and she broke in tears in front of me:

Imagine writing something like this, something so intimate it moved her to tears, only to post it to complete strangers on the internet later THAT DAY for approval and validation. You've completely bastardized it just because you wanted some fucking validation from the internet.

It's fucking pathetic, OP. Pathetic.

[Anonymous No.4637225]

>>4637220
Love outside of camaraderie is always either about a need to conquer or a need for approval.

[Anonymous No.4637233]

>>4637225

Don't give me that bullshit. Any guy who would write something like that and then indifferently post it on fucking 4chan only HOURS later for replies is just about as fucking fake as you can get.

Fuck him.

[Anonymous No.4637234]

>>4637233
He's young. He put effort and sincerity into it and is excited about this experience. Sure, it's immature to go here for recognition, but that's all. He's young.

[Anonymous No.4637246]

>>4637234

I don't believe how many replies have been dicksucking OP over this.

Do they not see how hypocritical it is that OP would want to prance around like a fucking darling of sincerity only to go and betray the secrecy of the very message he was sharing?

The hypocrisy is unbelievable.

Yes, OP may be young, but he needs to realize that these are the bullshit antics of a fake. He isn't an altogether bad writer, but he needs to understand how action can pervert intent.

[Anonymous No.4637251]

>>4637246
>Do they not see how hypocritical it is that OP would want to prance around like a fucking darling of sincerity only to go and betray the secrecy of the very message he was sharing?
Nothing secret about that.

Stop thinking of sincerity as some immutable idea, it's organic and ever changing and ebbing and flowing and nowhere is it less constant than among young lovers. One of them will probably cheat on the other before they're through, stop having such high expectations.

[Anonymous No.4637259]

>>4637251

>stop having such high expectations.

I'm telling OP exactly what he needs to hear.

If he wants to be surrounded by placating circlejerkers he can go and post on Reddit.

[Anonymous No.4637275]

OK, I have quite a lot to say. First I'll talk about aesthetics, and then morality. I know it seems hypocritical to speak about morality on 4chan, but I think what I have to say is worth hearing no matter the place. Besides, OP, it may be presumptuous of me to preach morals to you, but it is presumptuous of you to say that you wrote the poem in a rush and expect us to care and offer critique on something you haven't put much effort into.

Here goes.

Aesthetically, your poem is Romantic in style. The poem savours of Keats. Keats also wrote in a rush, without much editing, and used his passions as inspiration rather than pay attention to strict form. The mistake I see most amateur poets making is that they try too hard to say something when they have nothing to say, and so they come up with forced inages and conceits that fall flat because they don't really make sense. Here, you just fantasized about a woman and let your fantasies lead your pen. That technique tends to produce more readable poetry than the people who sit around trying to think of a subject to write on and end up writing nonsense because they refuse to decide clearly on a subject.
One of the things I don't like about your TASTE is your penchant for, erm, purple words. What I mean is, you try and be overly-descriptive and in focusing too much on the little details you lose sight of the bigger picture. I've seen MANY poets make this same mistake and it is always disgusting to see, it's a really rococco style.
e.g.
"as if my lungs could drink the vitality that curls inside of you"
You are trying to describe in too much detail, for the sake of sounding more poetic (it really comes across as amateur). What I object to is "that curls inside of you", why not just, "as if my lungs could drink your vitality", or better yet, "as if my lungs could breathe your vitality" (since lungs breathe as opposed to drink, but drink could work it is just a more fanciful description). See what I mean by losing sight of the bigger picture? You just meandered on a train of thought, you went like this, "hmmm, I take her vitality from her, no, I drink her vitality, no, my lungs drink her vitality, no, what does vitality look like? It's something that currrrls inside of her, my lungs drink the vitality that curls inside of her". You'll impress people that don't know anthing about poetry with purple descriptions, but not anybody with taste. Besides, I don't think vitality curls, by vitality are you picturing an emanating soul that comes from her heart / sola plexus or are you picturing blood flowing through her veins? This is a sign that you are not really paying close attention to imagery, and so your thinming becomes more abstract and vague.

[Anonymous No.4637298]

>>4637275
OK, so I've gone over how you lost sight of the bigger picture during the writing of a sentence, but just as you write each individual word you cannot forget that it belongs to a sentence, you cannot forget that each sentence belongs to a stanza, and each stanza to the poem as a whole. Every word you write has to serve the whole, the image you are trying to paint. You meander all over the place in this poem, and the reader loses all sense of place. The Beat generation used this style to simulate an acid trip where you experience a chain of images that are just barely connected, but this is an ugly style imo. Again, it all comes down to a matter of taste, aesthetics. To me, the Beats were barbaric, and so is your poem.

You start off with her naked in your bed. You compare her body to an island of swans, and the empty parts of the bed as the icy sea (should be lake rather than sea). OK, but in the previous line you said she was a warm fragrant nest, which makes one imagine a cosy tree in summer in a humid forest or wood. See, this is discordant imagery, like you have discordant chords/notes in music and colours that don't match in painting. How can you switch from warm imagery to cold imagery so fast? You could argue that it's for contrast, but that doesn't make sense. Island of swans = woman, icy lake = bed, that make sense as a good contrast. However, contrasting that image with warm fragant nest does not make sense. In truth, you do not need the warm fragrant nest clause at all, you are just writing without thinking. Furthermore, "ghostly albino icy" shows the same disease of over description. There is no need to bring ghosts into this already convoluted image you are trying to paint.
Then you describe your body and hers. This might have been a good time to use contrast, to describe your body as icy cold and her's as fragrant warm.
Then you bring up grace, angels, heaven. So we've suddenly gone from the natural imagery of swans and lakes to the supernatural imagery of the angelic and heavenly. OK, it is permissible to make the transition from the natural to the supernatural, but only if it is accomplished smoothly with the necessary build-up and anticipation. You just throw supernatural imagery in there like a bad cook who just throws in as many ingredients as possible. This is confusing for the reader, and really it does a disservice to the divine.
Then you go straight from angels and eternity back to body imagery with no transition again.
Right, and then you talk about hugging your inanimate pillow. This is called bathos; bathos is when something is ludicrous because it goes from the great and majestic suddenly to the mundane. You've not long ago invoked the angels of God and the eternity over which He rules, and now you decide to mention your pillow. You can't go from using words like "eternity", "the heavens", "abyss", to "inanimate pillow". Are you trying to give the reader the impression of the divine or of the mundane?

[Anonymous No.4637310]

>>4637298
The truth is that you never even thought about what the poem was about or what impression you were trying to give to the reader/listener. You don't know if you are trying to compare the woman to the divine or compare her with the mundane. You were drunk when you wrote this poem, you were drunk on impressions and fanciful images and you had no idea what you were trying to accomplish. You decided to fantasise about a woman and record your fantasies in whatever order they came to you, assuming that the reader/listener will enjoy your own self-absorbed fantasies as much ad you enjoy them.

More body imagery. You should have just stuck with her body and not let your imprudent self wander off into nature and heaven. Read William Blake's short poem "The Divine Image", and Ezra Pound's "A Girl" and Byron's "She Walks in Beauty", they are all short poems describing a body and they are all a thousand times better than your poem because they have a clear and precise image.
You talk about angels and hearts and swans and pupils and salivation and the chain of centuries and rubies & sapphires and neurons and birds and gods and nebulae and electricity and golden straw and ribs & lungs, etc. etc. etc. A drunken mess. It's like walking into a brothel and being drunk on the smog of cheap perfume.
"But at last I possessed you". This might be a good final line for a poem. A poet that isn't drunk and that is actually thinking about structure would write a short poem that starts off with the poet's. frustration at not being able to seduce a woman, then the middle of the poem would describe his various failed attempts, and then at the end he would be successful. Perhaps he would use supernatural imagery throughout in order to be consonant with the word "possessed". Perhaps he would start the poem by describing himself as a demon that is trying to enter the soul of a woman. These are the kinds of considerations a sober poet would make. You throw in that line half way through the poem. It is a COMPLETE anti-climax. If you really wanted it to be EMPHATIC that you triumphed in possessing her then you would have put the line at the end of the poem and would have spent the entire rest of the poem building up to that line.

"There is no way to mine all the riches of your body,
To dig all the diamonds of your soul."

Oh, so you're a miner now? Before you were a pair of lungs that drank her vitality, a drowner in heavenly graces, a pair of eyelids upon which fantasies danced , a possessor, a heart that has had the shy bird of happiness make its nest, and now you are a miner. Have you watched Alice in Wonderland recently? See, I get the impression that you aren't trying to write a surrealist poem, but that is what you have accomplished through clumsiness.

[Anonymous No.4637326]

>>4637275
>>4637298
>>4637310
Not OP, im

>>4637039
>>4637053

I appreciate what you said. I wish other amateur poets could read this. Too many dont know what poetry is usually trying to achieve. One single images, one single scene, one single emotion. Any of these constantly being indirectly alluded to in a smart way.

.

[Anonymous No.4637334]

>>4637310
At the end you stumble back into heaven and finish with another bird reference (a completely different bird to any you have previously mentioned, the hummingbird just shows up at the end unnanounced). You start off in nature, you go to heaven, you descend to the body, diffuse back into nature, rocket into heaven and parachute down landing on the body again, only to trampoline back to heaven and crash back down in nature.

OK, now that that's done with I want to bring up Plato. Plato was a smart guy and saw that it's possible for somebody to be completely convinced that something is true, when it is in fact false. He extended this principle to say that it's possible for people to be completely convinced that something is beautiful when it is not in fact. See, in Plato's time everybody was convinced that Homer's poetry was divine, and was the foundation for all discussions on moral excellence, manly virtue, nobility, truth and beauty. Plato wasn't convinced of this, he believed he was just about the only sober person in a society that was drunk on Homer's intoxicating perfume. You see, Plato rightly said that Homer's portrayal of gods/divinities as though they were jealous mortals with petty strifes was absolutely disgusting, that it polluted and corrupted the image of the most beautiful thing of all from which all other beauties descend - the eternal, perfect and unchanging God (see: The Republic). What if Homer's poetry was actually extremely twisted and ugly? What if it only appeared to be beautiful to the Greeks because they were infatuated with a certain ugliness, in the same way that a deceived person is infatuated with a certain lie? What if Homer was not like a woman that is truly beautiful and that can truly be a grace to a man, but more like a painted whore that only satisfies base sensual pleasure and does not provide for the higher soul? See, if Plato was right Homer is worthless as a poet, because divinity is the most beautiful thing of all and so if you corrupt the beauty of divinity you are an aesthetic monster. Even if Homer does beautifully portray deeds of manly heroism, this only makes it worse because he insidiously mixes beauty with ugliness, in the same way that an expert deceiver insidiously mixes truth in with his lies to deceive his victim all the more easily. How do you know when you read Homer and you become intoxicated with how beautiful the poetry is, that you are an angel looking at the image of God (true beauty), and that you aren't just a deluded fool who would be intoxicated by the perfume of a seductress?

Well, there is a way to tell. Jesus Christ gave us the hermeneutic to solve this problem of interpretation: "by their fruits you will known them." Poetry affects the soul, it imparts whatever beauty and whatever ugliness it has onto the soul. If the poem is beautiful, then the soul that absorbs the poem will become more beautiful; if it is ugly, then the soul that absorbs the poem will become more ugly

[Anonymous No.4637353]

>>4637334
Good poetry makes saints, bad poetry makes sinners. Plato knew this, that's why he said good music is necessary to make a well ordered society. A Chinese emperor also said that he could tell the health of his provinces by the quality of the music that was played in them.

So, is your poem beautiful or ugly? Does it make its admirers saints or sinners? Well, you read the poem to a woman, and she was intoxicated by it. Now she is sleeping with the cousin of her ex-boyfriend. So I think we have our answer, as these are hardly the actions of a saint. Perhaps you should right a a truly beautiful poem that would inspire a woman to repent of having treated a man so crudely and to give up her body like a whore who is payed in the drunken perfume of bad poetry instead of cash.

Your poem is evil OP. I know it sounds farfetched saying that but it's true. Truthfully, everything that is ugly is evil; ugliness is just a metaphor for evil. Does that mean that a person with an ugly face is evil? No, because the soul is prior to the face and a beautiful soul redeems an ugly face, but it is fine to say that a person cursed with an ugly face does indeed suffer from a certain evil, just as it is fine to say that a person blessed with a beautiful face benefits from a certain good.

I've said this before and nobody has understood me yet: to be a good poet, you first have to be a good man, a saint. An evil man cannot produce good poetry any more than a barren tree can produce tasty fruit. All an evil man can produce is vile intoxications that posion the soul, just as bad fruit poison the body. In other words, wanting to be a good poet is PURE VANITY, if you don't want to be a good man. This is why almost all poets are worthless, because they wrote out of vanity and did not produce anything truly beautiful that improves the soul. Plato hated poets for this reason, and I agree with him.

[Anonymous No.4637362]

>>4637353
So all in all, it would be fair to say that I see no difference between morality and aesthetics.
imo the separation of morality and aesthetics is a symptom of our immoral "art for art's sake" age, in other words, an age where people call what is PATENTLY ugly and immoral "art", they worship excrement as God. This is a great evil.

[Anonymous No.4637377]

>>4637362
Also, truth. Truth, goodness (morality), and beauty are all one. Whatever is true is good and beautiful, whatever is good is true and beautiful, whatever is beautiful is true and good. Inversely, whatever is false is evil and ugly, whatever is evil is false and ugly, whatever is ugly is false and evil.

The ancients expressed this divine formula in the following manner:

"Virtue is one."

[Anonymous No.4637386]

>>4637298
>stanza

sentences dont have to belong to stanzas with prose

[Anonymous No.4637412]

>>4637386
You are free to omit that step or change stanza to paragraph. My point was to elaborate on the necessity of not losing sight of structure while forming the details. Imagine an architect who built such an ornate sculpture on one side of the building thay it compromised the structure of the entire building, causing its collapse. In a gothic cathedral just one bit of modern architechtural taste would compromise the beauty and artistic form of the building, it would be the blending of discordant elements. A cathedral might not physically collapse if you stick a poster of Miley Cyrus on one of its walls, but the artistic integrity, the artistic form, of the cathedral would crumble immediately by admitting such perversions to its character. The same goes for the building of a sentence and the building of a poem. If you are going to use biblical words and images in a sentence you cannot insert a modern scientific word in there, because biblical language and scientific language have opposing aesthetics. I know that the coarseness of my prose reveals hypocrisy on my part. My lazy modern english is ugly; partly because it is lazy and ill-formed and partly because modern english is a barbaric mix of Old English, Old French, Latin & Greek and takes notes from pagan poetry as much as the Bible as much as the scientific vocabulary.
Read from Beowulf, the language is so refreshing for its purity of images and sentiments.

[Anonymous No.4637458]

>>4637377
dont you think that evilness and ugly can be beautiful?

i feel good after i watch a quality film or read a quality piece of writing that acknowledges it is evil/ugly/false and portrays it in a special way
that to me is beautiful

[Anonymous No.4637478]

>>4637458
No, never. The people that confuse evil with good, ugly with beautiful, are corrupt.
I know what you mean. Like how Baudelaire would describe a rotting corpse and somehow make it appear "beautiful". This is perversion.

>Woe unto them who call evil good, and good evil; who put darkness for light, and light for darkness; who put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter!

To say that ugliness can beautiful and evil and be good, is tantamount to saying that nothing is either ugly or beautiful,and nothing is either evil or good; it all comes down to "opinion", again, this is perverse.

[Anonymous No.4637492]

>>4637478
okay

well what about a poem that starts off with an attempt to find beauty, the poem acknowledges beauty, but ultimately fails

is that evil?

[Anonymous No.4637495]

>>4637492
i should have made that clearer

the poem deliberately fails, not the writers attempt to acknowledge beauty

[Anonymous No.4637498]

>>4637492
Yes.

That's like saying: if a man starts off trying to be good, acknowledges that he has to be good, but ultimately becomes a cold-blooded and unrepentant murderer; is he evil? Yes, of course.

[Anonymous No.4637503]

>>4637498
but what if he falls victim to circumstance out of his control, but he himself still recognises beauty even during his failing

[Anonymous No.4637508]

>>4637503
> but he himself still recognises beauty even during his failing

A man that writes an ugly poem does not recognize beauty; if he had recognized beauty, he would not have written an ugly poem. He may have recognized beauty at first, but something blinded him to it when he wrote the poem.

>but what if he falls victim to circumstance out of his control

This is a matter of theology and free-will now. Do people become evil/ugly because of the impact of their environment, or do they choose to become evil/ugly? Either way, whether it's the environment or the free choice of the man, he is evil/ugly if he is evil/ugly. Personally, I believe that only those are deceived who first want to be deceived. Children have pure eyes and don't see ugliness/evil, but then they come across it and they have a morbid curiosity for it, and they let it infect them.

[Anonymous No.4637511]

>>4637377
out of curiosity how old are you?

[Anonymous No.4637513]

>>4637511
21.

[Anonymous No.4637514]

>>4637513
are you a writer yourself?

[Anonymous No.4637517]

>>4637508
cont.
This isn't to say that the environment has no impact. A child that is in a ghetto is going to be tempted by evil more than a child living in a more pleasant neighbourhood, just because there are more temptations around them. However, the truth is that it impossible to avoid temptations to do evil in this life. Those in the ghettos might be tempted to do violence, while those in the more wealthy neighbourhoods are tempted to love wealth rather than truth and beauty; everybody is tempted.

>>4637514
No, I'm not.

[Anonymous No.4637521]

>>4637517
but dont you think that writing about evil things is useful in the context of a 'lesson' to the readers, which in itself is good?

[Anonymous No.4637522]

>>4637353
>I've said this before and nobody has understood me yet: to be a good poet, you first have to be a good man, a saint.

This doctrine of mine is mysterious and I don't understand it fully.

An architect can make buildings that stay up and be an evil man, whereas a saint might be completely hopeless at making buildings that stay up. So you might have a man that can produce intoxicating poems and be dissolute, while a saint can't write poems at all.
I stand by what I say though. An architect that can build a solid structure is a good man in the sense that he can accomplish a certain good (the building of good buildings). And a poet can be a good man in the sense that he can write a poem that charms somebody, which takes craft.
However, unless you are a saint then your efforts are going to be ultimately fruitless, even if they seem to bear temporary fruits. For example, there can be genius architects all over the world who build huge skyscrapers, and these skyscrapers survive earthquakes and facilitate business and accommodation quite well; however, what good are these skyscrapers ultimately if the people living in them aren't good, if they are miserable and filled with evil desires? It's a pointless society. Same with poets; if you make a poem that has a certain charm, what good is that charm if it only charms people into doing evil? What good was the intelligence of a man like Karl Marx when all he accomplished with his intelligence was murder and misery?

[Anonymous No.4637525]

>>4637246
I think there's a lot samefag ITT.

Way too much praise for typical cynicism of /lit/.

This could have been done, and has been done, so much better in a few lines of song. Instead it's just over done and annoying.

>>4637275
>>4637298
>>4637310
>You'll impress people that don't know anthing about poetry with purple descriptions, but not anybody with taste

dis fuckin guy.

10/10. At least something good came from OP's garbage.

[Anonymous No.4637528]

>>4637522
This is why St. Paul writes here (it is also in the Old Testament):

>As it is written: There is not any man just.

>There is none that understandeth, there is none that seeketh after God.

>All have turned out of the way; they are become unprofitable together: there is none that doth good, there is not so much as one.

>Their throat is an open sepulchre; with their tongues they have dealt deceitfully. The venom of asps is under their lips.

>Whose mouth is full of cursing and bitterness:

>Their feet swift to shed blood:

>Destruction and misery in their ways:

>And the way of peace they have not known:

>There is no fear of God before their eyes.

St. Paul calls everybody useless; doesn't that seem ridiculous? The Greeks and Romans could build magnificent buildings, write great poems, form men capable of illustrious deeds; in what sense were they "useless"? In this sense: they did not have sanctifying grace, they were not aware of God or obedient to him. What is the point of human civilization, when it is all going to crumble away? Vanity of vanities, all is vanity. If you have a society of men that can build skyscrapers, aeroplanes, vast communication systems; what does it matter if they can accomplish all of these wonders if they are only using them for evil? What is the point in living in wonderful modern society if all it does is corrupt your immortal soul, makes you miserable and full of sinful desires, spreading misery and destruction all about you?

[Anonymous No.4637538]

>>4637528
Let me give you two metaphors: Egypt and Jerusalem, too opposing nations.

Imagine you are in ancient times; you are a shepherd from a simple country, with simple habits (tending to your flock, providing for your family). You go into a neighbouring country: the land of the Egyptians.The first thing you see is these magnificent structures, the pyramids and sphinxes and the huge irrigation systems. You conclude that this society must be a society of gods. Then you become acquainted with the Egyptians and realize that they engage in human sacrifices to idols/statues, that they enslave people and make them do demeaning work, that their hierarchy is full of ambition and disloyalty; you would be disgusted. You thought this was a nation of gods, and yet they behave worse than the beasts that you shepherd in your own country.

Imagine today you live in the countryside away from the modern cities, modern technologies, modern education systems, etc. You go to a nearby city. You see the tall buildings, the wonderful technology, the variety of the people in their dress, shapes and sizes. You think that you've come across a land of gods. Then you find out that that half of them have to take bizarre medications in order to stay happy, that they spend countless hours wasting away in idle pleasures, that they are full of envy and spite towards one and other, etc. You would be disgusted; you would wonder, "what's the point of all of this, I am better off than these people".

[Anonymous No.4637540]

>>4637525
>10/10. At least something good came from OP's garbage.

Dont forget the Audrey pictures :)

About the poem: it’s a good poem, and also a bad poem.

It is good because it shows enormous resources of imagination, a great metaphorical capacity. To be capable of creating metaphors is one of the rarest gifts a writer can have.

It is a bad poem because it is poorly edited: a clumsy beast with no form or structure, with no climaxes, with no specific message.

But there is always the possibility of learning the craft, while is debatable if imagination (especially for metaphors) is something you can obtain with training.

[Anonymous No.4637542]

>>4637540

Ops, I wanted to post this

[Anonymous No.4637545]

>>4637528
>>4637538

there is no point to it, humanity does as it pleases

[Anonymous No.4637552]

>>4637538
Egypt is a metaphor for magnificent human deeds but also idolatry and immorality.
Jerusalem is a metaphor for humble humans but who are morally good and do not sacrifice to false gods.

This is the sense that the Egyptians are useless. It would be better off for them not to have built their great cities and not sacrificed to their abominable idols.

>Unless the Lord build the house, they labour in vain that build it. Unless the Lord keep the city, he watcheth in vain that keepeth it.

In vain; vanity. Our society is VAIN because it has lost sight of God. We all live for meaningless and trivial purposes. All of our fantastic technologies and artworks are completely vain because they do not please God. What's the point of our modern cities if they only produce sinners, people that walk on the path of destruction?

>You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt lose its savour, wherewith shall it be salted? It is good for nothing any more but to be cast out, and to be trodden on by men. You are the light of the world. A city seated on a mountain cannot be hid. Neither do men light a candle and put it under a bushel, but upon a candlestick, that it may shine to all that are in the house.

So then, if a person is not of God, all of their enterprise and ingenuity and work eventually comes to nought. Unless one has the eternal God in mind in everything he does, that one's life is vain, ephemeral, passing.

[Anonymous No.4637560]

>>4637552
god doesnt exist

[Anonymous No.4637569]

>>4637552
Degrees, occupations, marriages, awards, etc., these are all vain trinkets if they are not in the service of God.

>>4637560
If God doesn't exist then all is vanity. If God doesn't exist then there is nothing either good or evil; "good" and "evil" are just vanities; same with beauty and ugliness. If God doesn't exist then nothing really matters, and it wouldn't matter if humanity ceased to exist tomorrow. You might say that in the opinion of humanity it would matter if humanity ceased to exist tomorrow, but what does the opinion of humanity matter if humanity is just a fungus that has grown on the third rock from the sun, which is the millionth star from the centre of the galaxy, which is the trillionth galaxy in the Universe?

[Anonymous No.4637573]

>>4637569
humanity certainly doesnt matter

good and evil are buzzwords

vanity is a buzzword

[Anonymous No.4637574]

>>4637569
cont.
In other words, if God doesn't exist you can't make sense of anything. There's no reason why killing is evil and why healing is good.

This is how the world is summarized if God doesn't exist:

>To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
>Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
>To the last syllable of recorded time,
>And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
>The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
>Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
>That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
>And then is heard no more: it is a tale
>Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
>Signifying nothing.

Signifying nothing.

[Anonymous No.4637579]

>>4637573
And now we arrive at the absurdity of your position. If humanity doesn't matter then I have no reason to listen to you.

This is another one of my mysterious doctrines:

If you haven't received a revelation from God, you have no right to open your mouth and teach men.

[Anonymous No.4637580]

>>4637574
god doesnt make the rules

society makes the rules

[Anonymous No.4637587]

>>4637580
No, if God doesn't exist then there are no rules. Society's "rules", if they are not founded upon God, are pure vanities.

"If God does not exist, then everything is permitted."

[Anonymous No.4637588]

>>4637579
>If you haven't received a revelation from God
how does one receive a revelation from god

what was your revelation from god

[Anonymous No.4637593]

>>4637588
>how does one receive a revelation from god

Ask God.

>what was your revelation from god

http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/

[Anonymous No.4637595]

What the fuck happened to this thread?

[Anonymous No.4637600]

>>4637595
I've been given the extraordinary power of turning every thread I enter into a discussion about God. I don't apologize for this however, because God is the First Principle, and so any topic that doesn't rest on him is ultimately vain and incoherent.

[Anonymous No.4637598]

>>4637595
a religious nut is spouting drivel

[Anonymous No.4637605]

>>4635067
I like the original
>want and drown
Good. Leave it.

[Anonymous No.4637606]

Fair enough. But at least say what you thought of OP’s poem. Do you think that God would like to see a couple making love in the starlight’s, in front of him and his angels?

When death takes us, if I meet you in heaven,
I want to take you by the hand to the pools of light,
The lakes where honey of stars flows in dams,
And I want to bathe your naked body with this warm and bright milk;
I want to lather your body with the foam of nebulae,
And caress you in front of the angels, before the gods,
And see in the eyes of this primordial entourage
The comprehension that the entwine of our bodies is beauty,
A beauty in which I want to drown,
As a hummingbird drowning in nectar and honey.

[Anonymous No.4637609]

>>4637600
Spinoza? I knew something was getting on my intuition.

[Anonymous No.4637615]

>>4637606
I've already said what I thought of the poem:
>>4637275
>>4637298
>>4637310
>>4637334
>>4637353

[Anonymous No.4637618]

>>4637606
Also, no, God wouldn't want to see that, unless they were married.

[Anonymous No.4637625]

>>4637615

Sorry: I didn’t read the thread, was reading only the theological discussion (and honestly I was trying to troll you, but I can see now that you are not a religious fanatic; you just have faith).

[Anonymous No.4637671]

>>4637625
Kind of seems like a fanatic to me..

[Anonymous No.4637951]

Fuck you, OP. You remember me of Audrey Hepburn, the love of my autistic life.

>tfw you will never date Audrey Hepburn in her prime.

[Anonymous No.4637993]

>>4637671
I'd still rather listen to him talk about poetry than anyone else in this thread.

[Anonymous No.4637995]

>>4635052

Come with me, Anon. Let's go to bed.

[Anonymous No.4638015]

>>4637993

I think he is fair and perceptive in many of his statements. However he criticizes OP for mixing several different metaphors, and jumping from one image to another in a frenzy, something that, to me, is not a defect, but a virtue. Shakespeare style was chaotic like that, and he is my favorite poet. Like Charles Lamb said when he compared Fletcher to Shakespeare:

“Yet, noble as the whole passage [of Fletcher] is, it must be confessed that the manner of it, compared with Shakespeare’s finest scenes, is faint and languid. Its motion is circular, not progressive. Each line revolves on itself in a sort of separate orbit. They do not join into one another like a running-hand. Fletcher’s ideas moved slow; his versification, though sweet, is tedious, it stops at every turn; he lays line upon line, making up one after the other, adding image to image so deliberately, that we see their junctures. Shakespeare mingles everything, runs line into line, embarrasses sentences and metaphors; before one idea has burst its shell, another is hatched and clamorous for disclosure.”

And I also don’t appreciate the religious overtone. I don’t like when ideology or a necessity to pass a significant intellectual message contaminates a poem. I love works that present us with the human world, its pleasures and horrors, virtues and flaws. But that kind of poetry that is made to preach or to convert the reader…I am not a big fan of that.

[Anonymous No.4638024]

not bad but cliche as fuck and needs hacking to bits op

[Anonymous No.4638029]

>>4638015
I never necessarily said I agreed with his ideas (hence my use of the word "still"). We both agree that he is fair and perceptive, unlike many other posters on this thread and, at large, on this board. I'd rather listen to him talk about poetry because he seems to be passionate about the subject and, lets take Blake as an example, there's still a level of profundity to religious fervor.

[Anonymous No.4638040]

>>4638029

You are right, I see your point now. >>4638029
>I'd rather listen to him talk about poetry because he seems to be passionate about the subject

That's true.

[Anonymous No.4638086]

>>4637522
>What good was the intelligence of a man like Karl Marx when all he accomplished with his intelligence was murder and misery?

Then you could say that the bible is evil, for is has bring wars, murder and misery to many.

[Anonymous No.4638308]

It's shit.
She's a pleb.

[Anonymous No.4638409]

>>4635052

Congrats.

There are several memorable images in your poem. If you were not that lazy you could have actually created a 10/10 love poem.

[Anonymous No.4638882]

>>4635052
holy purple!
what a jumbled mess!

[Anonymous No.4638925]

>>4637606
>>4637609
>>4637625
>>4637671
>>4637993
You guys need to stop talking to this mystic.
>>4637615

He has no argument besides his mystic leap of faith. All conversations with him will become dribble about the leap of faith into mysticism.

He worships some impossible desert demon, leave him alone.

And to you anon
>>4637615

I am sorry that what I said is offensive, and its barbed, but you seem delusional, and im sure you wouldnt have it any other way. Youre dangerous in saddest way possible.

[Anonymous No.4639488]

>>4637508
>only art that recognises beauty and beauty triumphing evil is good art

HAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHA

[Anonymous No.4639700]

>>4637615

Tolstoy, is that you?

[Anonymous No.4640804]

i love audrey. She is so cute in op's pic, in that casual dress, at her home...they dont make girls like that anymore.

[Anonymous No.4640836]

>>4640804
they do, youre just too autistic to find them

[Anonymous No.4640875]

>>4637275
>>4637298
>>4637310
>>4637334
>>4637353
>>4637362
Now that's a beautifully unfolded troll, beginning with three long posts worth of sound poetic criticism, then unflinchingly following with two long posts of dated, prescriptive and eventually arrogant moral recommendations, that's what I call a solid groundwork and a nice execution. You truly are a master, sir, and I'm truly impressed by you.

Unless, of course, you were thoroughly serious, in which case I pity the poor wretched lost thing of a mental echo chamber that you call your soul.

[Anonymous No.4640882]

>>4637587
Based Dosto. Too bad he didn't foresee that the contrary is equally true.

"I think that if one is christian, one can do whatever one pleases."

[Anonymous No.4640906]

>>4637233

Not to mention the guy is fucking his cousins ex

[Anonymous No.4640991]

>>4640906

C’mon man, nobody owns anybody. There are not property stamps on people: just because you dated a girl someday it doesn’t mean you are forever her owner.

OP never did anything while his cousin was dating the girl, but only after the end of the relationship (according to his story). It’s a stupid moral code, in my opinion, the one that says that if your friend dated or liked some girl in the past you cannot like/date that same girl in the future.

I don’t like or trust people that are too jealous. Jealousy, to me, is some kind of shadow of egocentrism – it’s a reflection of someone’s exaggerated love for himself.

[Anonymous No.4641002]

>>4635052
>>4635062