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/lit/ - Literature

File: 45 KB, 382x331, dog_sonnet.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

Anonymous Sun May 2 14:57:00 2010 No.621397 [Reply] [Original]

ITT: Troll poetry

For some reason, the best writing posted on /lit/ is always from trolls. Their poetry, their stories, their prose poems - delightful. Most suck but a few are wonderful and deserve to be remembered. Post the ones you've saved.

>>	Anonymous Sun May 2 15:00:00 2010 No.621406 File: 18 KB, 644x247, lawnmower.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

>>	Anonymous Sun May 2 15:04:00 2010 No.621420 inb4 the faggot poem about shit.

>>	Anonymous Sun May 2 15:05:00 2010 No.621421 File: 11 KB, 270x240, 1270474273810.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>621406 I have discovered the meaning of life.

>>	Anonymous Sun May 2 15:06:00 2010 No.621423 /lit/ does have best trolls. Most are shit, but many are intelligent to enough raise a chuckle at least.

>>	matrim cauthon Sun May 2 15:07:00 2010 No.621425 Ye Old Shakespeare Sometimes to be Or not to be, That is all you can ask. But what to be, When you can be, anything, That's a task!

>>	Anonymous Sun May 2 15:08:00 2010 No.621430 >>621406 This is fucking amazing.

>>	Anonymous Sun May 2 15:11:00 2010 No.621439 File: 106 KB, 737x660, poem.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>621420 as requested

>>	Anonymous Sun May 2 15:17:00 2010 No.621457 >>621439 That horrid background... It's you again, isn't it?

>>	Anonymous Sun May 2 15:20:43 2010 No.621471 Hhh T+t T+t ppp ,.: /// /// À@À ++t ;,. kkk iii mMM mMm óoO ÀAA .:. $5s e3€ ///

>>	Anonymous Sun May 2 17:43:00 2010 No.621879 a sonnet. a super sonnet. woah

>>	Anonymous Sun May 2 21:11:00 2010 No.622580 >>621457 >>621457 Oh god. Everybody hide.

>>	Anonymous Sun May 2 21:13:00 2010 No.622587 >>621439 that's shitty

>>	Anonymous Sun May 2 21:17:00 2010 No.622605 File: 68 KB, 525x394, badumtssssh.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>622587

Anonymous Mon May 3 06:33:00 2010 No.624153

If the Wall is Sponge Cake

If the wall is sponge cake,
we children can eat it shared with us.

If the wall is sponge cake,
we children can work less.

If the wall is sponge cake,
we children don't need to compete sales of souvenirs with us.

If the wall is sponge cake,
we children can study more.

If the wall is sponge cake,
we children can make a tunnnel by eating.

If the wall is sponge cake,
we children can extend our hands from the tunnel made by our eating,

If the wall is sponge cake,
and we children can shake hands with each other.

If the wall is sponge cake,
how much sponge cake can be made?

If the wall is sponge cake,
hou much sponge cake we children can eat?

If the wall is sponge cake,
but why is that THE WALL?

If the wall is sponge cake,
is it a fairy tale?

If the wall is sponge cake,
we should be able to change it if someone had thought so.

If the wall is sponge cake,
but these words should not be dreams.

If the wall is sponge cake,
"make FOOD and DREAM" rather than "make the wall".

>>	Anonymous Mon May 3 06:45:00 2010 No.624168 Holy fuck, OP's pic is actually rather good. It's a proper Shakespearean sonnet in (more or less) iambic pentameter. I'm impressed.

>>	Anonymous Mon May 3 07:24:00 2010 No.624206 >>624168 The iambs aren't consistent at parts, but considering it's a troll poem about dog fucking, one must admire the perseverance of the writer.

>>	Anonymous Mon May 3 07:26:00 2010 No.624208 This is an interesting conundrum. The trolls are typically better at poetry and fiction than any of the homeworkfags or Zinefags. Why is this?

>>	Anonymous Mon May 3 07:27:00 2010 No.624209 >>624208 So /lit/ does have good writers, but all they do everyday is troll /lit/?

>>	Anonymous Mon May 3 07:36:00 2010 No.624216 >>624209 Welcome to 4chan: The Greatest Waste of Anonymous' Talent and Skill.

>>	Anonymous Mon May 3 07:47:00 2010 No.624227 >>624209 It's essentially a piece of performance meta-art commenting on the value of art.

>>	Anonymous Mon May 3 15:40:00 2010 No.625263 File: 130 KB, 1346x468, bird-becomes-a-man-1.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] This wasn't a poem, but it...well, honestly, I don't know what the fuck this was. 1/5

>>	Anonymous Mon May 3 15:41:00 2010 No.625270 File: 76 KB, 1316x402, bird-becomes-a-man-2.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] 2/5

>>	Anonymous Mon May 3 15:42:00 2010 No.625273 File: 76 KB, 1311x456, bird-becomes-a-man-3.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] 3/5

>>	Anonymous Mon May 3 15:43:00 2010 No.625276 File: 92 KB, 1314x478, bird-becomes-a-man-4.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] 4/5

>>	Anonymous Mon May 3 15:43:00 2010 No.625278 File: 17 KB, 730x126, bird-becomes-a-man-5.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] 5/5

>>	Anonymous Mon May 3 15:47:00 2010 No.625285 H T T P : // A t . K Í m M ó Á . 5 € /

>>	Anonymous Mon May 3 16:03:00 2010 No.625323 >>621395 H t + p : // Á + . K \| M M ó @ . $ E /

>>	Anonymous Mon May 3 16:05:00 2010 No.625327 >>621406 i lold many many times, simple and yet brilliant.

>>	Anonymous Mon May 3 16:09:00 2010 No.625332 better than anything in ZWG

Anonymous Mon May 3 16:12:00 2010 No.625338
File: 72 KB, 540x799, 1270619589427.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

>>625332
You probably never heard of Cyborg Assassin Girl:

PROLOGUE:

It was a dark and stormy and grim and hardcore night. The air was thick with a vague sense of eroticism and futuristic mysticism. It was also kind of humid, too. In the city of Robo-Mesopotamia, every night is like this. The days are pleasant and refreshing, but too few remember that day gives into night.

Robo-Mesopotamia is the capital of Future Earth, the name given to describe Earth's state in the future. The darkness and grimness of night is contrasted by the blazing city lights. The silence of a world ravaged by the Gyrotanium Robocalypse is interrupted by the angry voices of bad guys. However, tonight, only one bad guy roams the streets.

And this bad guy is a girl.

And a cyborg.

And she's the only bad guy because she killed the other bad guys. All by herself. In one night.
With her chainsaw fingers.

>>	Anonymous Mon May 3 16:18:13 2010 No.625348 >>625338 Meh. Robocracy's are always kind of weird.

>>	Anonymous Mon May 3 16:21:00 2010 No.625352 >>621395 h t T p : // À + . K í M M O a . $ 3 /

>>	uh-oh !SEchrono1c Mon May 3 16:21:00 2010 No.625350 File: 25 KB, 335x327, 1271191383951.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>625338

>>	Anonymous Mon May 3 16:26:48 2010 No.625360 >>621395 H T t p : // á T . K i M M ó à . 5 3 /

Anonymous Mon May 3 16:31:00 2010 No.625370

>>625338
Chapter 1:

The wrath of a cybernetic angel of death is never a clean sight. Among the slaughtered hovercycle gang were many gum and condom wrappers, proving that even in the future our environment isn't safe.

"Damn."

"It's a damn, hard night" Captain Smith said while lighting a cigarette.

"A damn, long, hard night" Agent Jones said, entering the crime scene.

"Who the hell do you think you are, Agent Jones?" Captain Smith asked, unpleasantly surprised by the shady agent's presence.

"You small-town city cops and your ignorance. Shouldn't you know your superiors by now?" Jones asked in a condescending, dickish tone.

Captain Smith, at a loss for words, responded by asking "Where's your ID, tough guy? You got a bagde?" He tossed his cigarette to the ground. Agent Jones walked ahead of the Captain, staring down the bodies of the deceased gang of thugs.

"Hey," the Captain quips. "What the hell? Are you listening?"

"I've seen this before," Agent Jones said to himself, ignoring the Captain. "It looks like our friends here were *murdered*."

"Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?" the Captain asked impatiently.

Anonymous Mon May 3 16:32:00 2010 No.625371

>>625370
Agent Jones pulled a laser pen and aimed it at one of the corpses. The victim's leather jacket reflected the cool, blue light. Then the jacket looked cool. "Here," Jones said as he clicked the pen. "This is how we do things in R.D.C."

"R.D.C...?" Smith thought to himself.

The pen's light turned from a sterile blue to a burning red. Quite burning, in fact, as the laser cut through the jacket. With a few calm movements of his wrist, Jones burned off the jacket of the victim, revealing a jacked male physique once covered by a jacket. Continuing to cut away with the pen, the agent started to cut open the body of the murdered thug.

"Hey, now you're going to-"

Smith was interrupted by Jones. He raised his free hand and shoved it in the Captain's face. In Jones' hand was a virtua badge, a futuristic badge with a hologram image showing a full 3d portrait of Jones, various scrolling text with information about the agent's credentials, and a rocket launcher.

"Agent Jones?!" A shocked Captain Smith asked/exclaimed. "*The* Agent Jones?"

"Satisfied? Please step aside. I'm performing a field autopsy," Jones said, still focusing his laser pen on the carved-up corpse.

"A field autopsy? Is that necessary?" Smith asked. "Shouldn't we move these bodies first."

Jones was quick to defend himself. "In the time it would take to move these bodies, we'll have several more bodies like these show up. We can't let this murderer roam around. If you want to do your job right, then you have to do it fast."

"Wow." Smith was taken by this radical approach. "You really don't do things by the book, huh?"

"Sir," Jones responded. "This is the digital future. I haven't had to read any books in a long time."

***End of preview*** ;_;

>>	Anonymous Mon May 3 16:33:00 2010 No.625373 >>624208 .... No. Read a single issue of the zine.

>>	Anonymous Mon May 3 16:34:00 2010 No.625376 >'My, how a year can change things,' thought Amelia to herself while sipping her kiwi ice tea smoothie.

Anonymous Mon May 3 16:41:00 2010 No.625392

I see you walking down the hall.

I wanna do you so bad.

I see you turn your head and smile at a friend.

I wish I could be that friend.

Call you up on a Saturday night and talk.

Ask if you want to hang.

I get to your house and tear open your clothes.

You moan in pleasure as I lick your neck.

I puncture your throat with my tongue ring.

As you are bleeding and applying pressure,

I am applying sweet love to your naval.

I let loose my gooey filth.

You smile at me pleased.

I am alone again in the hall.

I have a bonor.

You see me smile at you and turn your head.

I wank in the hall before my next class.

>>	Anonymous Mon May 3 16:45:00 2010 No.625401 >>625392 That's OC by the way. Enjoy it.

>>	Anonymous Mon May 3 16:49:00 2010 No.625408 >>625373 >>625373 yes, I've read them all

>>	Anonymous Mon May 3 16:50:00 2010 No.625411 >>625392 >>625392 i lol'd

>>	Anonymous Mon May 3 16:56:00 2010 No.625423 >>625411 Tell your friends. give it immortality by screen-capping it and reposting. The rest is up to you.

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