poetry critique

[Anonymous No.7830175]

New poetry critique thread

last one's done dead

[Anonymous No.7830180]

She said “Andy, you're better than your past”
Winked at me and drained her glass
Cross-legged on a barstool, like nobody sits anymore
She said “Andy you're taking me home”
But I knew she planned to sleep alone
I'd carry her to bed, sweep up the hair from her floor

If I'd fucked her before she got sick I'd never hear the end of it
She don't have the spirit for that now
We just drink our drinks and laugh out loud
And bitch about the weekend crowd
And try to ignore the elephant somehow
Somehow

She said “Andy, you crack me up”
Seagram's in a coffee cup
Sharecropper eyes, and the hair almost all gone
When she was drunk, she made cancer jokes
Made up her own doctors' notes
Surrounded by her family, I saw that she was dying alone

But I'd sing her classic country songs and she'd get high and sing along
She don't have a voice to sing with now
We burn these joints in effigy and cry about what we used to be
And try to ignore the elephant somehow, somehow

I've buried her a thousand times, given up my place in line
But I don't give a damn about that now
There's one thing that's real clear to me: No one dies with dignity
We just try to ignore the elephant somehow

[Female Poster No.7830191]

skin skin skin
toni morrison's skin
skinned, fisted, gagged
bodybagged
white priv
3 fingers 4
put your whole hand in me
now the other one
can you clap?
tight, huh?

[Female Poster No.7830196]

>>7830180
1/10

Dude...

[Anonymous No.7830333]

He retained but many certainties,
Ingesting the many silver foils
of his petite, delicious desires...

Why, in sooth, his tongue of peripatetic range
passed over generations of urinated seas
and remained upon weak seldom, upon careful rhapsody...

He had digested such fascinating lore;
It promises his folly certainly ceases never-more.

However, he has since sought a proper isle.
Developed, detailed with such buoyant brethren,
whom he cannot playfully retaliate.
And, perhaps, this adjustment based to the foundation
of illusions suggesting sweet anticipation
dominate his personal, political proclamations.

Thus his fluids had condensed, he presents under a reign,
commanded to recite his future haste
to what lakes of otherworld waste
he shall kneel in tedious history with.

His petite, delicious desire now melts
with hollow progression portraying what he felt...

[Anonymous No.7830351]

I learned with the teachings of that thick book
to believe in the end of all passions
because sometimes even when you test me
I know one can't inprision a pepe
these grids that you have created
when trying to tame my heart
have been broken along with your oaths
and all that was left of our history
was your smile showcasing a victory
that you thought you attained one day

but in the end pepe overcomes his sorrows
and altought he surrenders his heart to a thousand passions
he only holds passion for poetry

[Anonymous No.7830371]

I hardly hear them now.
Just auditory clues,
cues to signal– keys to
slot in neuropaths and
drafts to notes to sheets to
this music. Peace in the
pieces– where I sit but
don't listen. These songs that
tend to sidle step in,
change some stone to flesh and
numb law to love. I want
rest but instead this sly
test sets in for the night.
I hardly hear them now.

[Anonymous No.7831062]

>>7830180
Hey Jason

[Anonymous No.7831065]

[Montie !FmpMXvspA. No.7831068]

"White Male"

You say I am a white male
I can't feel the pain
In the morning rain
as it soaks me to the bone
Let me fly, as a white male
up into the sky
Maybe I want to live and die
A white-male.
Maybe?
I don't really want to know.
How your garden grows
Because I just want to fly
away in this white flock

[Anonymous No.7831244]

The soul, straining, secretes a narcotic
to slip into the fissures of limbs, when
their motions stutter and stumble in time
and by margins the pendulum slower swings.

It sets the brain on a delayed pursuit
of the skull, plodding across the carpet
of the cranium. From its hems hang the eyelids
like the counterweights of a delicate machine.

The morning cup of tea on china tray,
exhaling breaths with milky odour, capped
with plumes of soapy vapours, only tints
acetic bitterness an orange hue.

It’s not a sweetened brew the brain demands,
tormented to the cusp of boiling, fuel
nor lubricator, but to yield command
and put machine to soft and dreamless sleep.

[Anonymous No.7831568]

Smoke curls, broken e-lite, the dirty end.
Makeup cake, face, prostitute eye-bags.
You can tell it’s a boy just by the way
You smirk, at me with those bloodshot
Cheeks. I wonder if you’d vomit paint,
Brown, the stuff for fences.
Tatter-scald fuck and chained like that for years—
No wonder you’ve frayed darling.

I know you sleep tucked inside a
Newspaper. I’ve seen you. At evening:
Your pupil’s a plus-sign
Flipped. Iris jagged. You’re split at the nose
And I want to glue you together,
But only so you’re slightly stable.
My fingers curl on drainpipes as I catch
The rain on the edge of my

Knife. My friends all like to dress
As women. Not very pretty ones.
Bed-quietly, they might hear us
Or touch me. Solid-glow—tapestry
Wallpaper tells the stained-story of
Last night. Tumour eyelids spasm,
Your eyeliner’s fluxing.

There’s blu-tack on the ceiling,
I only notice now. I wonder if
We should pin up a topography of the
Undulations in the mattress.

[Anonymous No.7831574]

6.00, Meols Parade

My grandmother, with
Her crucifix and beads,
Invites me to morning
Prayers, where
Shuttered creed taught me
Immolation by
Liturgy. Orthodox
Combustion is a
Different faith to
That which the
Book tells.

7.00, St Michael & All Angels,
Church, West Kirby

At four I knelt in
Stained Light and
Stared at the backs
Of eyes.
I supplicated a
Statuette to conform.

The exultancy of youth
Wears hard
Underfoot, memory
Shores itself
Against the wire-walls
Of my childhood.

[Anonymous No.7831788]

>>7830175
Wonder filled thread, boys.

>>7830180
0/10

>>7830191
9/10

>>7830333
6.5/10

>>7830351
2/10

>>7830371
7/10

>>7831065
7/10

>>7831068
Just

>>7831244
8/10

>>7831568
1/10

>>7831574
9/10

Better?

[Anonymous No.7832237]

Standing in the doorway
of a hallowed hardwood hall,
I let drop a lock of light in white.
Arrayed in rays, I raise my eyes
to glowing-golden woven threads
of speck-dusted diaphane.
Unwound around in rings of shade,
in lack of one, the other's made.
A column, a cross, across the wall,
sending a descending shadowing fall . . .

[Anonymous No.7832466]

This one was at some asian-fusion retro bar,
She sat with her legs crossed hands in lap.
I asked her if she had the time
When she smiled and looked down she saw her watch had gone missing!

My face surprised painted a destroyer--
‘Let’s find it! We have no time to waste!’

A small child running in circles,
Als das Kind Kind war

Just like everything I think,
My feelings were disjointed
The minute hands on her clock flew,
But we were yet to find it

Do you know that feeling at the end of the night,
When everyone parts ways with hugs,
Or maybe just a wave and exclamation,
Or maybe just dismissal without eye contact?

Oh god, and the next day,
When you lay in bed criss crossing the ways she existed there
The way she smiled? The way she felt?
Do you lay in, lazy sundays, the thought of her,
Pure, innocent thoughts that only lead way to
The destroyer within us all

But this one lost her watch,
And I hadn’t the time nor intentions
To keep her from looking,
So so simply,
I let her on her way.

[Anonymous No.7832481]

>>7832237
5/10, no substance

>>7832466
10/10, best poem I've read in a LONG time

[Anonymous No.7832508]

>>7830180
0/10

>>7830191
9/10, great tone and use of imagery

>>7830333
5/10

>>7830351
0/10

>>7830371
5/10

>>7831068
0/10

>>7831244
5/10

>>7831568
0/10

>>7831574
9/10

[Anonymous No.7832551]

She was born
Surrounded by modern medicine
With no fear of corruption
In her pristine hospital room.

But from my hands,
When I held her
And from my lips,
When I cooed

Came
Termites and bark beetles and caterpillars and
Cicadas and wood wasps and sawflies and
Millipedes and moths and maggots and

As they burrowed in her body
There was no indication of corruption
From the modern medicine
In her pristine hospital room.

[Anonymous No.7832556]

i really do love you(he said with a smile)of course
you do i know it to be true(she said with a laugh)but
[both of them felt there wrong(it was okay to feel wrong they were (human)]skipping down memory
lane fast like bumblebees in the trees(old trees, who knew it all)skating
gently
into the unknow(n)

[Anonymous No.7832565]

>>7832551
8/10, nice use of polysyndeton to increase velocity and heighten the climax

[Anonymous No.7832582]

>>7832565

Thank you.

What didn't you care for?

[Anonymous No.7832599]

>>7832551
8.5/10

[Anonymous No.7832608]

>>7832582
Everything works well, just not the style of poetry I personally like. It's just a preference.

[Anonymous No.7832632]

through my looking glass i see
all the people walk around me
when i look inside their eyes
see that light missing inside
still look seventeen
that noose beckons me
and when i die
no one will remember me

[Anonymous No.7832651]

>>7832582
I'm the actual rater. The best poetry scratches a mental or emotional itch. While rhetorically talented in the technical sense, it wasn't the right species of jagged to get between the bones.

[Anonymous No.7832673]

>>7832651
What the fuck do you mean "actual rater?" I'm seriously offended. There were two people who rated his poem. I'm just as qualified as you are to rate other people's poems you fucking asshole. Don't ever do that again. I'm seriously fucking triggered.

GO FUCK YOURSELF, "ACTUAL RATER."

[Anonymous No.7832680]

“Shall We Skip Sunday School?”

His
rain – a warning,
torrential, down-pouring.

he
a crisp oxford
and black shiny shoes.

her
smile – chiding,
constant, inciting.

she
a wrinkled sundress
with only hours to lose.

their
tongues – entwined,
slick, unrefined.

they
a soaking pile
hopes begun to suffuse.

[Anonymous No.7832708]

It’s February
I am immoral and unashamed.
The clouds fray from creation.
I taste cold dust in this atmosphere,
Heavy shoulders and small hands—
In the next room they lay awake
And laughed and wrote something
Meaningless. I was caught between
Darkness and unimportance.

In the air there was disregard
Then there was consideration
Nestled between the sheets.

In the sky
I see my face tethered to a star
So I bottle up the universe
And watch degeneration in a jar.
I watch people circle
Just as they had before.
Air gathered in the spaces
Between bodies and brilliance.

[Anonymous No.7832720]

I cannot see through
My fiddling
Forefingers, and

There is no secret
To perfect
Articulation, even

When I need to
Verbalise these
Waves.

Confine this,
Paralyse and choke
To chestspread—

Show me your
Manubrium cell-
Meld skin.

Show me why
The tigers looked
Like civets

And why the scrub-
Hares cannot swim.

[Anonymous No.7832824]

>>7832680
2/10

>>7832632
0/10

>>7832551
7/10

>>7832466
9/10

>>7832237
5/10

>>7831574
9/10

>>7831568
1/10

>>7831244
5/10

>>7831068
0/10

>>7831065
6/10

>>7830371
3/10

>>7830333
1/10

>>7830191
5/10

>>7830180
0/10

[Anonymous No.7832898]

THIS FRIDAY I WOKE UP AT 2PM

started drinking alcohol at 3pm
at 11pm i went to a party wearing the same clothes i wore on thursday
at 12:30am the guy i lost my virginity to told me he is having a baby
at 1:30am i ate drugs in the bathroom without telling anyone
i don't know how to maintain relationships
most of the people i've had sex with have negative feelings about me now
starving to death during sex is something i would like to do this week
every time i look at my computer
i fight the urge to open a word document and list everything i ate that day
here is what i ate today:
coffee, curry vegetable thing from whole foods, plum
i am most comfortable around people who criticize me because
i feel like anyone who isn't constantly criticizing me is lying
or expecting me to be something different
seems insane that you need money to do things like
develop a drug addiction, or move across the country
i don't identify as 'depressed' even though i feel depressed
seems unfair that i only get to feel a finite amount of things in my life
lately i have been assuming that dried fruit has more calories than regular fruit
i feel like 400 dead jellyfish in the middle of a freeway

[Anonymous No.7832906]

>>7832898
0/10, utter fucking garbage.

[Anonymous No.7832917]

>>7832680
6/10

>>7832708
7/10

>>7832720
0/10, really awful.

[Anonymous No.7832927]

>>7832898
Kek

[Anonymous No.7832991]

Shadows chant the solemn noise
of lonely drops of water.
A dark cave with little light,
dewy and soulless it appears;
Mysterious are its enclosed walls,
as they whisper of insect trails,
and a soft brush nightly paints
demonic monsters that ceremoniously growl.

Masks hide bursts of anger,
while silence is eternally kept.
Dark and red they seem,
lit by the glittering black waters.
Not a soul colors the atmosphere,
although ancient breathless lungs
woefully breath.

[Anonymous No.7833002]

>>7832927
making the meme

[Anonymous No.7833004]

>>7832991
>woefully breath
"Breath" should be "breathe," you want the present tense verb form, not the noun.

2/10

[Anonymous No.7833112]

1 Obligations rinsed clean by a new dawn,
2 Pandiculation reanimating a temporary corpse,
3 Little fragments of myself cling to sleep,
4 Animation is often by force,
5 let me take in the warmth,
6 To a Hearth that has long subsided,
7 Let toil be met with reward,
8 For a grain that God provided,
9 Let no sensation be spared,
10 Lest a gift goes unredeemed,
11 Take solace over the heat,
12 Frigidity atoned by steam,
13 In memory as of days without,
14 I drink in the still seconds,
15 Take the warmths grasp to heart,
16 Hold on strong should retirement reckon,
17 Simplicity with no effort,
18 Rather, none that a cost prohibits,
19 My passion is passive, satisfaction has it’s limits.

Pneumonic Poem

[Anonymous No.7833153]

>>7832824

I'm >>7831065
Any critiques?

[Anonymous No.7833237]

[Anonymous No.7833257]

>>7831065>>7833153
It's certainly interesting and there are some good images in there. Simple opening criticisms is the use of water twice in five words is slightly grating. The first few words of the second stanza were fairly generic, even changing 'shores' to 'shore' would be a simple change that I think could make it better. I am also interested in why you only start using punctuation in the second half, I get your use of lower case but it just seems a bit incongruous, i would say either go for normal punctuation or none at all. I would change 'he's' to 'he' seeing as that's what you've used on the next line. Just as a whole poem I feel like the stanzas, although connected in theme, obviously, don't really link together that well, but overall I think it's got the makings of a good poem and with a bit of refinement it could be impressive so well done.

[Anonymous No.7833285]

>>7833237
Lame Delilio-lite age of consumerism inspired bullshit

[Anonymous No.7833289]

all along the iron banks
blood in the city, not in our eyes
pain
how does a man care for a man?
love?
no
pain
for once in your life, act
do not placate
do not stop
act
otherwise, your great oak
will fall
act
no pain

[Anonymous No.7833305]

>>7833289
0/10

[Anonymous No.7833308]

>>7833289
Imageless, cliche, and needlessly repetitive.

[Anonymous No.7833378]

>>7833285

I don't know who that is but I typically don't care for this kind of writing either. It's fun to write if you're in a certain kind of mood though.

[Anonymous No.7833441]

>>7833289
Some of the worst garbage I've ever read.

0/10

[Anonymous No.7833446]

>>7833257
Appreciate it brother. I'll keep playing with it

[Anonymous No.7833548]

rating someone elses work "0/10" or "1/10" or any number out of 10 really is not conducive to communication.

First this isn't -fucking- a gymnastics routine or a diving competition. There are no rules here, and much less rigid standards concerning form and execution.

The mere fact that another human being has tried to conceptualize some abstract concept or aesthetic with the limited palate of words should be rewarded just as a child speaking her first words.

After all we were all children, and many of us here not so long ago. You don't call a child's drawing 0/10 because it doesn't measure up to the technical skill of the Dutch Masters.

The opposite is often true. A child's work is often highly sentimental, raw, telling of innocence and naivety. This type of work can show adults what it means to be a child again, and are worthy of applaud for that reason alone, even if they fail in their initial expression.

When you look at poetry from this angle, that each poem has a unique story and is indicative of another human beings life; a life that is just as physical, just as nuanced, just as filled with relationships of family and friends and foes, than poetry becomes a very beautiful thing indeed.

[Anonymous No.7833571]

>>7833548
Rating something out of 10 is a simple and easy way of communicating whether it's good or not and whether or not it needs work. Okay? It's a very, very easy system that really doesn't have any flaws.

There are rules, by the way. The poem has to have substance: otherwise, it's pretty fluttering words with nothing behind them. It's pretentious. Pretentiousness should always be scored low in poetry. If the form and execution are noticeably bad, the score should reflect that. There has to be a reason certain techniques are used, and there has to be a reason in the context of the meaning of the poem.

There shouldn't be any rewards for an ATTEMPT at conceptualizing the abstract. It has to be a good attempt. There aren't participation awards in poetry. If it's bad, it's bad.

[Anonymous No.7833865]

Well now first of all,
I'm the thief who takes all
I'm the man who breaks all
My mind reaches over all

I'm high-rising, high-rolling,
Don't make noise my way
I will choke you
Just to see you suffer

I was walking
The way I do
Straight pimpin'

And so I saw her,
Apparition of the past--
Demon! I will fuck you up
Right here, right now

And she saw me,
Smiled, waved, said hello

And I walked along
Without response,
Praying to hide the
Redness of my face

[Anonymous No.7833970]

>>7832673
What.
the.

Do you mean
(Scare quotes)
Actual rater?
(To scare you)
I'm serious,
I'm offended.

There were
Just
Two people

Who, whom, who, it's who
rated his poem.
I'm just.
I'm just
as qualified
as you

are to rate
other people's
poems
you

fucking

asshole.

Don't ever do that again.

I'm seriously fucking

(triggered).

G.O.F.U.C.K.Y.O.U.R.S.E.L.F.

"ACTUAL RATER." -by Pan T. Weist

[Anonymous No.7834026]

>>7833548
Haha so your poem was so bad it got one of the 0/10s...?

Here's a run down, fuckface:

0: Pathetic, no hope

1: Pathetic

2: Bad

3: Leather

4: Enchanted Leather

5: Gold

6: Enchanted Gold

7: Iron

8: Enchanted Iron

9: Diamond

10: Enchanted Diamond

You must be new. This is how we rate poetry on /lit/. Stop posting your garbage neuro-backwash in these threads, you utter sissy. Real poets ONLY.

[Anonymous No.7834053]

Blankets folded around you,
curling cascades of crevice
and valleys rising, around you,
a giant sleeping in mountains.

So peacefully you exude
the early hours of sleep
still draped across your eyes,
and I hope we never rise.

How I wish we could stay here
with blankets crumpled around us
like giants nestled in mountains
breathing softly like fountains
that spill and spiral and fall,
lines of shadow on the wall
suspended, silent, abeyant---

The blue morning buoyant light
drifts and curls and sways in swirls
above our heads, mixed with sleep,
your fingers in the air carving circles
that descend and dissolve in our nest
of mountains folded around us

[Anonymous No.7834056]

They say a few small stones
Felt him resumed, his weight involved back,
All trees now even.
Some iron clots on buses polls are him.
He's the land. And the black end of
The outside blood is him,
And the barked bone and the lied corners in a circle,
Will and slow salt in sea are him.
So they went licking on each obvious strike
Of pose, each change of string in water.
They moved to move in him,
He could be mocked by gait,
Stalked out from pleats and alone beams in morning.
He was one big common arm now, crippled with everything,
Unable to refuse them.

He died, so it was life he had.
Odd thought, he wasn't there often.
But though he always bumped abstract
And went in furnace early,
he found room enough for life
In between the ashes and nourished a folly.
So many children to drop the clovers now
And finally love him gone.

They say
It took one burn to burn him.

[Anonymous No.7834069]

>>7833865
funny 7/10

[Anonymous No.7834240]

>>7834053
Really dreadful. 3/10

>>7834056
What?
5/10

[Anonymous No.7834416]

the unnecessary tip-toeing
of carefully chosen words
and deliberate camera angles
it doesn't actually matter

I could have her easy
she is easy
yet I feel bound to
pomp and ritual
to give legitimacy
to tawdry experiments

i, nimbly posturing
invite her input
on the itinerary
of our next encounter

an air of experience
beyond her years yet
more suited to her than I
the elder, the statesman

of the kingdom of mad pussy

[Anonymous No.7834425]

Mfw I shitpost
Like nine-dy nine
Of these poems

Feels pretty good
To write words down
When cucks like you
Will read then now

I got four-tay four
Coming, I made a
Fat stack of words
That are fucking
Stupid

Just absolutely
Fucking

Stupid

[Anonymous No.7834459]

advised be thou
with such much exclamation
to never sleep
in pragues railway station

[Anonymous No.7834494]

>>7834416
9/10, exceptional use of tone. The last line is masterful and strong in a humorous way

>>7834425
2/10

>>7834459
3/10

[Anonymous No.7834502]

When one by one the lights go out
And neighbour children cease to shout
You can hear the things wind down
If you care to listen out.

I can hear a man I know
Who cries alone at night
I wouldn't ever tell him though
It wouldn't feel quite right.

The sighing body next to me
Who's breath plays in my ear
I'd sleep a little better still
If they were not so near.

And when the power outage strikes
I'm sure you're well aware
There are some sounds you never hear
Until they are not there.


Five minute composition time.

[Anonymous No.7834507]

>>7834502
4/10, the meter and rhyme scheme are childish

[Anonymous No.7834525]

>>7834507
That is to be expected, as I am an amateur.

Teach me a mnemonic for understanding meter.

[Anonymous No.7834531]

>>7834525
Just don't use meter. It's ridiculous.
Write free verse. Just write free verse.

[Anonymous No.7834543]

>>7834459
made me chuckle.
But honestly, I dont get all of this "i have a dictionary and use it to look at pretty words" writing.
maybe its because i am not a native speaker but this kind of poetry always seems so neckbeardy and lonely in english.

(nothings better than rilke in german btw)

[Anonymous No.7834547]

>>7834416
made me chuckle.
But honestly, I dont get all of this "i have a dictionary and use it to look at pretty words" writing.
maybe its because i am not a native speaker but this kind of poetry always seems so neckbeardy and lonely in english.

(nothings better than rilke in german btw)

[Anonymous No.7834548]

>>7830180
wait arent those fucking country lyrics you chode

[Anonymous No.7834555]

>>7834531
I have and do write free verse.
But now I want to learn meter.
You see, a screwdriver set is incomplete without both the flathead and Phillips.

[Anonymous No.7834556]

My legacy lays in dried grass
Cheated by himself;
He's trapped Summer in a jar
Without airholes in the lid.

"Dying's better
The second time around."
He tells him,
As if he believes it.

"We die two times-
Once, when we write the truth
And again, when we accept it."

The sun sets
And they wilt like time.

[Anonymous No.7834557]

>>7834547
duly noted, I think what i should focus on is to make the more flowery words blend better in with the common vernacular so the odd 10 dollar word is less jarring.

[Anonymous No.7834558]

>>7834555
Oh, props to you then. You need to look at Shakespeare for meter. Just read his sonnets.

You have to study basically Shakespeare and 18th century poets.

>>7834556
2/10
No.

[Anonymous No.7834574]

>>7834557
Yeah I might have overlooked that. The second half of the second stanza, in retrospect, is definitely jarring and a little awkward, especially with "tawdry experiments," like you went from your average teenager with an excess of self-confidence to some scientist/intellectual. I think the poem could be massively improved if you tweak the second and third stanzas. You really have a brilliant rough draft there.

[Anonymous No.7834577]

Lathnos het faltern on the high stump
Tious masses rustling their coats in root-eaves below
while Istern hordes trample in a growing spiral
on gods' faces, antipodal.

Sammandrion, sivy settled Satremonger
he may be, lends animate to callowed, mallean Prentics
and holds barred many a mangled law-tracer
but has no heed of his brother

Taphylos, who's none below but the deads' hands
agaze to the primate roil past halted lands.

[Anonymous No.7834580]

>>7834574
And with the third stanza, same issue. "Invite her input on the itinerary," sounds like you should have a sip of tea right after you say that. Too British, too formal and intellectual.

[Anonymous No.7834587]

>>7834577
Utter fucking garbage. 0/10.

[Anonymous No.7834610]

>>7834580
Some of us are British.

You can't really be too British when you're British.

But frankly, as a Brit, I can assure you that "Itinerary" is not a word I encounter in my day to day life.

[Anonymous No.7834615]

>>7834580
I thought this was funny and I see the poem becoming political with the whole elder statesman/ pomp and circumstance thing
i, nimbly posturing
invite her input
to set the agenda
of our next congress

[Anonymous No.7834625]

>>7834615
I'd add that in, definitely.

[Anonymous No.7834668]

gold and glory never forsaken
broken dorothy
beat the crap out of satan
or p.a. his address, almost
trunk behind trunk stink
melting glazy horn of white ink
that writes in blackness
life, in darnkess
strike, and it was your third.

[Anonymous No.7834686]

>>7834668
Dreadful. 0/10

[Anonymous No.7834703]

>>7834686
Idk how to make poetry, actually I just came here and tried. Who knows... It was a try at stream of consciousness, I'll be back.

[Anonymous No.7834730]

Sit simple—
put up your own
shifting sheaves,
and try not to meet
the eyes of those aliens
dancing around you,
with a thousand smiles
for a thousand other paper castles
who totter and leer looking lusting
for gaps that give pry-hold, tell difference
and deviance from the diversity
so deftly maintained.

Sit simple—
find your own
sad sample
who will sit simple too
while the monsters dance and
hunt for sacrifice among
themselves.

Wait and sit simple—
for the ones who will see your face
without killing you.

[Anonymous No.7834735]

I wake up in the morning
I am the door, i am this city
brush my teeth with a bottle of Jameson
I leave for the night
I am never coming back

I'm talking
our clothes, clothes
our phones, phones
Drop toping, playing
I am the cd's
up to the parties
Trying get a little bit

[Anonymous No.7834740]

>>7834730
lol

>>7834735
LMAO

Nobel prizes for these two.

[Anonymous No.7834772]

Now let me welcome everybody to the wild, wild west
A state that's untouchable like Elliot Ness
The track hits ya eardrum like a slug to ya chest
Pack a vest for your Jimmy in the city of sex
We in that sunshine state where that bomb ass hemp be
The state where ya never find a dance floor empty
And pimps be on a mission for them greens
Lean mean money-makin-machines servin fiends
I been in the game for ten years makin rap tunes
Ever since honeys was wearin sassoon
Now it's '95 and they clock me and watch me
Diamonds shinin lookin like I robbed Liberace
It's all good, from Diego to tha Bay
Your city is tha bomb if your city makin pay
Throw up a finger if ya feel the same way

[Anonymous No.7834777]

>>7834772
1/10

[Anonymous No.7834778]

>>7834735
>I am the cd's

cd's nuts

gotem

[Anonymous No.7835528]

>>7834735
this is probably the best one so far in this thread

[Anonymous No.7835624]

Me
You
Not he
We
Not you
Hopefully they

I
You!
Him?
But we!
Not you!
They too?

I!
You!
To him!
Not we!
You!
They love...

[Anonymous No.7835645]

>>7835624
lol

[Anonymous No.7835654]

>>7830175
a death this year approaches
in vane the children cry
her soul still lit but fading
the mind a forgetful husk
she tiptoed around their lives
shaping their future bright
avoiding her walker's rust

she sits and idles days in memory
what little is there is frothy and flies
mother still lives
sisters still laugh
horse hoofs pound the earth
the crops green in her hand

strangers speak freely
they seem to know all about her
her life narrated by unknowns
that suddenly spring back
the voids slowly fill
milky eyes cascade and cloud

atrophy drowns the long hours
a certainty of expiration dances
it abounds
only on bright nights she laughs
when back home in the fields
the dust with her life resounds

every morning a new one
each it's own struggle
trivial spaces fall out of time
baby faces now grown and bearded
her rosary the only constant
her purple veins a river of no

[Anonymous No.7835657]

>>7835654
help me out, family. I know it's not great but I didnt edit or anything and wrote it for this thread.

[Anonymous No.7835682]

>>7834668
sounds more like a first draft of a Mars Volta song. Just a bunch of words thrown together. Try to say something.

[Anonymous No.7835685]

>>7834587
not that anon, but this aint critique. Say why you think it's grabage, other wise sit on it.

[Anonymous No.7835737]

When I start to live I think I’ll have a death mask made
And hang it on a wall - probably not my own –
I’ll watch it as it starts to change and

Contort into a different shape and crack in two.
My forehead open like an egg
Red yolk touching cloth.

My eyes will breath like burning postcards
On my birthday, I often think so.
They’ll open and

Dilate in time with music coming from my pulsing
Neck. A hum I learnt at rest.
And then they’ll

Fall, leaving holes, from which thoughts
Bead.

[Anonymous No.7835926]

"Bleak"
Days and nights all terribly bleak
A way away from normality is all I seek
A breath of fresh air , something to fill the void
Tar-like despair engulfing all that I once enjoyed
Nights of gluttonous blackness , and days in grey
Tomorrow will be better, or so do they say

[Anonymous No.7836094]

reach for the sky
hold your head up high
for tonight
and every night
your a superstar

[Anonymous No.7836381]

>>7836094
nice your/you're bait. try harder next time.

[Anonymous No.7836414]

Lettuce and bread, all spread
on my tables and red
grapes and 'tomatos
for peoples' to enjoy

Songs and drunkards, all spread
on the tables, and red
wounds of blood flow
--the dead don't enjoy

Music loud, bad tales recited,
the tired and lazy eyed,
the crazy and excited:

Come, come and eat
the red grapes and tomatos'
come, come and dance
laughter, bravado, fight and,
die.

[Anonymous No.7836424]

>>7835926
kinda lackin in message as in being only an emo complaint at life but it flows well. 5/10.

[Anonymous No.7836497]

>>7832551
beautiful, anon.

[Anonymous No.7836517]

>>7835685

i'm not even that guy

but fuck you

[Anonymous No.7836577]

Early thine covers
Forever protecting
the
fair skinned perfection
from balmy, dew-dropped air

Nay, but she is forever lost
And I write upon
but a
lingering, languid laugh
a dust of memory

Yet by her once shining hair I do see
A way for my life to go happily

[Anonymous No.7836602]

>>7836577

This is actually great, well done.

[Anonymous No.7836607]

>>7836602
???

it's cliche garbage lol

>Yet by her once shining hair I do see
>A way for my life to go happily

w e w l a d

[Anonymous No.7836612]

>>7836577

0/10, absolute trash.

[Anonymous No.7836630]

>>7836602

Thank you! I will definitely keep up the work. Thanks for taking time to read it.

>>7836607
>>7836612

Excuse me, but this is a critique thread. If you want to do ratings, please go to /soc/ or some other pleb board where they take that nonsense seriously.

On THIS board, we critique. That means you must explain your reasoning.

I don't appreciate being bothered by dilettantes and their endless projecting. Did you catch the Shakespearean couplet at the end? Didn't think so. How about the alliteration in the second stanza? Guess you missed that.

Why don't you take a trip to the library and read before wasting everyone's time, idiot?

[Anonymous No.7836639]

>>7836630
oh my god this post is golden ahahaha

ty anon

[Anonymous No.7836682]

>>7836517
name a time and place, big boy ;*

[Anonymous No.7836688]

>>7836639
hes right though. stop shitting on people and give critique you fucking moron. I bet your writing is shit.

[Anonymous No.7836693]

[Anonymous No.7836695]

>>7832551
nice close.

[Anonymous No.7836697]

>>7836693
you spent way too much time on this anon. it's not even funny.

[Anonymous No.7836699]

>>7836688
i just said i like that post faggot stop projecting i didnt say shit about the poem

[Anonymous No.7836709]

>>7836630
>I don't appreciate being bothered by dilettantes and their endless projecting. Did you catch the Shakespearean couplet at the end? Didn't think so. How about the alliteration in the second stanza? Guess you missed that.
>Why don't you take a trip to the library and read before wasting everyone's time, idiot?

[Anonymous No.7836724]

>>7836699
get fucked. nice double doubles.

[Anonymous No.7836730]

>>7836699
>6699

checked senpai

[Anonymous No.7836747]

>>7835737
Anything on this?

[Anonymous No.7836751]

>>7836697

but you have to explain why it's not funny senpai :)

[Anonymous No.7836781]

>>7836751
it's full of cliches :^)

[Anonymous No.7837668]

bump this wonderful productive thread :)

[Anonymous No.7837676]

I am the jizz
the wind blows me
I come across faces
present yourself
you are the platter
lay myself upon you
silver pearl
the wind blows me
I am the jizz

[Anonymous No.7837701]

anyone else here never write a single poem in their life but just fuck around and post in these threads and watch retards critique you?

[Anonymous No.7837757]

How can you imagine something totally alien
Composed of components—kill the thought.
How do you describe distress to the unfeeling?
When words fall from lips empty—you ought not.
Rhythm helps, as does a gentlish touch (rescind?)
But a simple shard of humble grace and other unplannednessess
Stifles the wifi: the willingness to will—cut the music.
The skylights percolate sky light and night winces.
The caravan expands and harmony finally convinces
Me, you, us, uterus, to submit to a seared path
Garnished with red wine reductionist platinum platitudes:
Ubiquitous digestibility, palpable gold festoonery,
A trillion Suns set on desolate planets
And a not so supernova puts on its glasses
To shade it's coronal corneas from shabby rays.

Now back to work
For my shabby raise.

P = no problem

I'm so tired and hungry and tired and hungry but I don't know how to make it to the point of having a great way to go out with my life. [sic suggestions]

[Anonymous No.7837761]

>>7837676
0/10

>>7837757
0/10

Keep trying.

[Anonymous No.7837807]

>>7835926

I quite like this, but the format disagrees with me, it doesnt flow well, maybe something like this?

Days and nights all terribly bleak
A way away from normality is all that I seek
A breath of fresh air, to fill the void
Tar-like despair engulfs all i enjoyed
Nights dark as pitch,
and days sombre grey,
Tomorrow'll be better,
at least that's what they say

Bear in mind I'm a retard so feel free to disregard this

[Anonymous No.7837809]

Stupid super abstract nonsense convoluted enough to seem meaningful—though reality bursts at the seems:

Cacaphonous infant cries disrupt Hasting
Hastily drawing a halt to the tumult.
Bloodshed: Google BTK, or have it YOUR way—
I insist that we (I think you (me) mean I) should incorporate more punktuations: I, acquiesce to my,
How you do say? Solidarity of neurons; the second mark points............of no rereturn—fun filters in" pilfered bins//trash 'n' sins:
Meaningless meandering meet critical acclaim.
And yes that statement is absolute—I hate wasps.
What's your fav species?
Just love adore admire and appreciate thee
And me
Of course.

Find human condition prognostications elsewhere
Erstwhile I titillate my Lego box ad hoc mind with sparkling spittle
And the dream to become great.

Follow my Instagram: @anusbomber

I'm on Xanax.

[Anonymous No.7837828]

>>7837809
>bursts at the seems

I quite liked it though, im not sure i was able to draw any sensical message from it, but it read well and made me feel something, lord knows why

[Anonymous No.7837831]

>>7837761
You're going to have to establish at minimum a sense of critical authority before you pan people's work because purely quantitative critiques on qualitative subject matter do no good other than reinforcing whatever personal bullshit you have for yourself.

Constructive criticism, not haphazard vapid and extreme condemnations.

[Anonymous No.7837852]

One minute—biding time with lies;
Don't say eyes. Fuck pedantic skeptics—
Same river stagnates ne'er—titties epic.
HAVE FUN AND RECITE EXUBERANTLY.
the fetal position is for the triumphant:
Lost everything? Talk and see you're blindly right----------------Tourette's tick (not effective out loud)
But dat loud. I smoke a, b, and c's.
Kill your something and ride with me,
Cry and dye with me: let's become hippies
Then investment bank and hunt pheasants in Nova Scotia. I'm

In love with you baby.

[Anonymous No.7837864]

>>7837831
Your critique of his critique: 0/10.

[Anonymous No.7837869]

>>7837852
-7/10 pure nonsense.

[Anonymous No.7837903]

string a ling a ding dong
my king kong sings a
sad song
hark beith thine harpy
you big fat fuckin bitch
yaherdme
I said I'm a meme man
YA
HERRRD
ME??
[end?]

[Anonymous No.7837904]

What we wanted was to watch him silver fall
Cut the surface of the water and leave no bruise

Every earth bound angel who was taught his body was a sin
Calculates in his head equations needed to sculpt the air

As he aims from grim height for the promise of blue

[Anonymous No.7837934]

I ain't happy
I'm feeling sad
I got sunshine in a bag
I'm useless
but not for long
my future is coming on

[Anonymous No.7837948]

>>7837904
is this a poem about diving? It's good anon.

[Anonymous No.7838006]

>>7837934
I can see you want to keep things very simple but you made it too simple to where it is cringey. the third and last lines are awkward.
>>7837903
this was a little amusing to read so while I'm not convinced you're not >>7837701 its still better than many here
>>7837852
yep total nonsense fuck off ya cunt
>>7837809
>Stupid super abstract nonsense convoluted enough to seem meaningful
good, I don't have to read your poem now. I think more people should adopt this idea.
>>7837757
let's pick a line out at random
>Ubiquitous digestibility, palpable gold festoonery,
does this sound like poetry to you? read it. read it out loud. no it does not. back to the drawing board, stop reading Eliot.

[Anonymous No.7838017]

>>7838006
pretty sure the 1st one you critiqued is the #1 hit song Clint Eastwood by the Gorilaz

[Anonymous No.7838028]

>>7838017
damon albarn is fucking shit so I regret nothing

[Anonymous No.7838037]

>>7837809
0/10

>>7837852
0/10

>>7837903
0/10

>>7837934
0/10

Can we actually have some good poetry? Stop shitposting. I might have to attempt my own writing pretty soon.

[Anonymous No.7838048]

>>7837904
This is oddly nice. 8/10.

[Anonymous No.7838068]

>>7838037
that one about jizz was pretty good

[Anonymous No.7838083]

120 Days

Claustrophobopolis
Carved up esophagus
Vine swallowed morgues by the Xanadu opulence
Human experiments
Ceaseless inheritance
Scurrilous scoundrels patrolling the residence
Feasting on waste
The scales defaced
Eagles swoop down to lay the nextbrace
Angles acute
Flattened by boots
The compass needle has been rendered moot
I see spiders roam like masterminds
Taking their intricate intertwined works
To trap the weaker ones round the clock
Going berserk, but they only sink deeper
City symphonies composed in chalk
Scrubbed away by a passing sweeper

[Anonymous No.7838087]

>>7838083
I don't know why there's no space between next and brace, sorry.

[Anonymous No.7838129]

Waiting in silence with amber glass in hand
Arching of the back while lying in bed
The warmth of spring slides down your throat
A fire built from the trees you cut down
Proverbial words you strike with the pen
What did I mean by this?

[Anonymous No.7838166]

My ears aloof to noises
All i remember, Moses;
The misty mount, and verses
Written down as he -with God- converses.

The ten noises that resonated
As powerful as Zeus' lighting dessimated
The living and dead -and yet-
More eloquent than bolts, the threat
Was that he who acted in sinful regret
Elohim's rules would not forget

[Anonymous No.7838199]

Write a poem about
Writing a poem
While drinking
And writing a poem

[Anonymous No.7838204]

>>7830175
upon the keyboard my fingers click
swollen becomes the flesh sword I call my dick

[Anonymous No.7838207]

>>7834558
poets who don't know meter are pseuds, who want to feel like a "poet" but don't care for the work

[Anonymous No.7838268]

Fear stems from soils below
On the path at which the wind blows
Where will it lead us to?
Only the devil knows.
For its' end is where his garden grows.
The seeds are sown,
At a place the damned call home.
And the wanderers write prose,
Inspired by the beauty of a well trimmed rose,
While the lonely girl weeps like willows.

[Anonymous No.7838285]

I profess my lust for you
To wring your black hair
To gnaw on you like a bear
I rage like a tsunami, overpowered
With an unsalvagable appetite
I'm coming for you, so be tight
I feel the red blood rushes
But the cool claws of love
Transpire through my veins

You, my forbidden fruit
We cannot be together
A passion to stay in root
But what would happen
So to say, if you left like a feather
Flew into my lap, as we play in sap
To prepare for our gooey tenderness

What loquacious noise will come
Or are your lips to full of cum
To soft your skin, I'll make it dirt
On your feet I'll kiss the earth
For your virgin soul will shatter
Once I pitch and hit the batter

H-how do you like it guys

[Anonymous No.7838303]

>>7838083
if you focused more upon coherence than a simplistic sing-song rhythm, much of this imagery and language would work better.
>>7838129
well at least you have metre. what would help the most is, again, coherence; you're forming sentences sure, but you're not creating a scene - just throwing shit at the wall and hoping you're creating a mood. and leave out the memes.
>>7838268
did you intend to make every line a cliche? if so why?
>>7838285
I feel like this is what you'd write to your crush and put in her locker anonymously and she'd be freaked out and figure out its you and you'd get sent to the office and suspended but not before the principal laughs at it. so, keep trying I guess

[Anonymous No.7838315]

No Transfer

Oh why;
jaws caught in a snarl,
slowly gliding into view.
Teeth like talons,
curled and twisted sharp
that drips and oozes drool,
and grins
a crocodile smile.

Where is it?
Fire envelopes the shop,
while I stand there sweating:
the sickly red
of my work shirt
becomes drenched.
Pages curl black.
Covers melt to raw colour.

A sharp dressed man -
not Top -
he grins at me,
a smile curled up too far,
he looks smug.
“Don't worry, I bought the shop.”
His finger struck out from a silhouette.
“You can still work here!”

The fire is too much,
inferno blinds the way.
Acrid vapours tear into me.
The skin stings, welts.
I really need the toilet,
my body quivers with urgency.
Where was that thing,
the one with the predator's grin?

A wall fell through,
the flame licks away the coating.
Through the crevice
I see the night.
Pitch as the tar
that smothers and chokes
all that flourishes sanguine.
It quells the burning.

Slurped out the crevice,
the flame dissipates.
The smug man gasps,
caught between the jaws,
of the curled teeth.
Tore to shreds.
The books, now pristine,
and I no longer need to go.

[Anonymous No.7838328]

>>7838303

i am a cliche

[Anonymous No.7838331]

>>7838285
I'm giving this one a 10/10 because it made me kek fucking hard.

[Anonymous No.7838336]

>>7838303
>>7838285
Yes it's just something i wrote out of nowhere about my crush, although I know better than to ever show her. How would you rate it as a poem though?

[Anonymous No.7838341]

>>7838328
don't take it out on us then
>>7838336
if it's clear it was written out of nowhere about a crush, then its not good as a poem

[Anonymous No.7838342]

>>7838336
10/10 for the purposes of irony, 0/10 if a serious effort.

[Anonymous No.7838345]

>>7838341
Then how to make it better?

[Anonymous No.7838354]

>>7838315
quite lynchian

[Anonymous No.7838357]

>>7838315
Bizarre. 7/10.

[Anonymous No.7838358]

>>7838342
I wouldn't really say it was a serious effort. I knew how cringe it would be I just wanted to write something, anything.

[Anonymous No.7838365]

>>7838345
Practice more until you dont suck. The seriousness and energy just contrast too much with ur lack of expertise making it all the more ridiculous. Keep going though, we all suck at some point.

[Anonymous No.7838369]

>>7838358
Dude, just... just read some poetry. You have the ability to write, you just need to have some influences. Look up poets from each century and just read, read, read. Specifically though, these were the cringe parts:

>gnaw on you like a bear
>I rage like a tsunami
>I'm coming for you, so be tight
>gooey tenderness
>Or are your lips to full of cum
>Once I pitch and hit the batter

It's just awkward.

[Anonymous No.7838371]

>>7838315
I dont get it so either 0/10 for nonsense or 0/10 to me for being a retard

[Anonymous No.7838381]

so since i dun goofed and started a new thread when i shouldn't have...

[Anonymous No.7838391]

>>7838381
Again, 9/10. You have a beautiful way with language.

[Anonymous No.7838393]

>>7838365
>>7838369
Yeah those lines were put in there knowing how cringe they were. But thank you and I'll take you alls advice.

[Anonymous No.7838399]

>>7838391
Thanks anon. I have another I wrote around the same time. I'll type it up and screencap again

[Anonymous No.7838405]

>>7838381
I like it but i dont get "bereft of comfort and calamity alike"and then the fact u never really connected that lack with anything but just proceded to differentiate then. Seems outta place. 7/10

[Anonymous No.7838417]

cuckle fuck
cisses shut
its a white mare
with his white mare privilege
are you kidding me
youre kidding me
save my asshole for a black filling in me
do you feel the bern
I feel the bern
I am a cuck yes I am
my names carl yes I am

[Anonymous No.7838422]

>>7838417
0/10

[Anonymous No.7838427]

>>7838405
this
also
>black, dark abyss
is bad, excessive, redundant

Your subject matter is somewhat cliche

No prosody

[Anonymous No.7838434]

>>7838405
That first line is more about me than about the two halves, so maybe it is a bit out of place in the poem. How it relates to the two halves though is how I feel when acting as each one. I might be happy on the outside but it gives me no comfort, whereas on the inside, I just feel empty when nothing truly terrible has actually ever happened to me.

>>7838381
Here's the second one.

[Anonymous No.7838435]

As though appending lines, none that fit,
To a shoddy sonnet quickly shelved, late March
Into a fury snaps, one coldly writ,
And down dry streets does rage, the finches parch,

And puddles cruelly shrunk to pools of sand.
With a sadly smiling gaze, the Moon her son
Is watching rampage through the lonely blue land,
And wonders when his learning shall be done.

[Anonymous No.7838438]

>>7838434
Also fair warning, this is some emo bullshit, but I needed to write it.

[Anonymous No.7838470]

>>7838417
0/10

[Anonymous No.7838474]

>>7838434
I can relate to this and am alright with your writing style.

8/10

[Anonymous No.7838485]

>>7838417
laughed too hard m8
please go back to /pol/

[Anonymous No.7838494]

Desperately running across a maze
Defunct castle walls that crumble
Rise blocking our escape

Me, my family all hastily escape
Behind, in front and around
Starving rats on us prey

"Faster, Dad!" I screamed as he lost pace
Brother sister and mother left behind
But my life i must save

We reach the corridors' end
But my noble father tired and breathless
"We must return" -had to say.

[Anonymous No.7838500]

>>7838303
Hey, >>7838129 here, you are correct, I threw that poem together in about 5 minutes. It's about lying in bed, drinking Jameson and writing a poem, mixed in with a little bit of biography (me and friends/family made a bonfire today, I wanted to incorporate that into it.)
The last line wasn't supposed to be part of the poem, I was just wondering how someone might interpret the poem outside of personal context.
Thanks for the feed back though, I do struggle with every line fitting together and making sense within the whole whenever I do write this stuff out, which usually only happens when I'm drunk or tipsy.

[Anonymous No.7838503]

Plz Bernie free abortion
Tyrone just left me
And now im preggo with aids
Bernie set me free

Plz bernie free abortion
so i dont have to pay
maybe i stil have aids
doesnt mean im gay

Plz bernie FREE ABORTION
so i dont have to live under the opresive standerds of the white islamophobic transphobic racist misogynistic ableist capitalist patriarchy
Plz bernie free abortion
Cuz my kid will be a darkie

[Anonymous No.7838509]

>>7838494
This shits about a dream i had were it symbolizes my father's virtue as opposed to my fearfulness and indifference. My fear is symbolized by rats and my horrible morals in that i prefered saving myself that aiding the rest of my family.

There were also zombie babies that chased after us in the dream but i couldnt include that

[Anonymous No.7838513]

>>7838474
last one for the night. Also, it's too long so I can't screencap it.

How I long to cry out
To declare my suffering to anyone who would hear it
To expel this from me
The agony I create for myself daily

The abyss does, in fact, stare back.
It takes up my entire field of vision and enters thoughts
It becomes me. I become it.
There is nothing. Never has been, never will be.

No force can shake its inexorable grasp
Its subtlety combined with brashness
Its paradoxical nature
Able to be seen and clearly perceived
But as smoke, never to be caught
It melts the minds of mortal men
The will dissolved, a soul in its end
A click, a step, a breath, a fall
To end it all
Do you understand now?
Is it clear why?
While some would rather live
Others wish
To die.

[Anonymous No.7838516]

>>7838503
hardmemer
you lack subtlety

impact comes from contrast. your poem is monotone, and so is robbed of impact.

in order to really get to people, you must first gain their trust, and then brutally betray it

[Anonymous No.7838517]

>>7838513
plz bernie fre abortion :'(

[Anonymous No.7838518]

Privilege ma village
stamps on ma billage
fuckin ya women
cuckin ya lil white dick willage

ooga booga
I'm a nigga
with a baby mama
I'm nigga
with alotta drama
I'm nigga
want ma dick wit a side of pasta?
ooga booga nik nok oo oo ah ah

[Anonymous No.7838522]

>>7838518
>>7838503
>>7838417
>>>/pol/

[Anonymous No.7838525]

>>7838518
first i park mah car
then i fuck your bitch
cuz im niga as fuck bitch
and u be actin like i dindu nuffin but
i got yo white girl friend pregnant now she got aids
where are u now bernie sanders
nigga say black life matter
but that shit dont matta cuz im in favor of gun control
cuz u know i be getin my fire arms illegally anyways
so i can do sum armed robbery while im flexin my huge ape dick over your moms face
now u got a niga for a step dad too bad im gona bandon dat hoe too

[Anonymous No.7838528]

>>7838522
whats your problem with /pol/etry?

[Anonymous No.7838532]

>>7838528

>>7838516
>>7838516
>>7838516
>>7838516
>>7838516

please son, your plebness is grating
if you must shitpost, shitpost well

[Anonymous No.7838534]

>>7838532
read my otha one mah negroid

>>7838525

[Anonymous No.7838540]

FUCK NIGGERS
FUCK NIGGERS
MY WHITE DICKS BIGGER
FUCK NIGGERS
FUCK NIGGERS
MY WHITE BRAINS TRIGGERED

FUCK WOMEN
FUCK WOMEN
CHECK YOUR PRIVILEGE
FUCK WOMEN
FUCK WOMEN
LOOK AT MY RED PILL REDDITERS

FUUUUUUUCKKKKKKKK LITERATURE
FUUUUUUUCKKKKKKKK LITERATURE
I DONT NEED TO READ
I SPEAK PHILOSOPHY

[Anonymous No.7838541]

>>7838534
it still comes off as a caricature all the way through. imo it should start off more credibly. attempt some rhythm and rhyme, even if you abandon it later for the sake of humor or whatever

[Anonymous No.7838546]

>>7838540
you're lucky reagan shut down state mental institutions for that shit bud, autism off the charts

[Anonymous No.7838560]

“What are your thoughts?”
Lurid neon to the eyes,
that is the nature to confront.
Swollen purple,
bulging beyond boundaries.
I can feel it pressing against me,
brushing past my face
and it's making me shiver.

I'd known my thoughts,
a phrase or an image,
turned incandescent.
It burns with a brilliance
that I wish to scream about:
hold it up like a forlorn banner.
Though in the end,
it may not hold up
under scrutiny.

Sever the link,
which binds the thought,
which minds the throat.
Your child is not as bright
as you would believe.
It withers and wilts,
like wafer-au-chocolat
plunged into scalding coffee,
served for those at exuberant
yet ludicrously overpriced
downtown cafes.

The fear
of that paper thin cast away,
made to toss around in the swells
of nimble yet vicious minds,
sets wonders for one who must
create the link
which minds the thought,
which binds the throat.

I don't know what to say,
it's probably wrong anyway.

[Anonymous No.7838566]

>>7838435
>tfw post poem I took time to write and revise
>tfw thread shitposted to oblivion

[Anonymous No.7838568]

>>7838540
they think im a fedora
they think im a meme
i just get a big erection
from making posts obscene

they think im just a worthless cuck
who doesnt have a yob
but for my man donald j trump
my beating heart does throb

i had a hot gf once
and she sent me nudes
but when i found out she fucked tyrone
i gassed her like a jew

maybe one day ill get the chance
to get my message clear\
lighten up and loosen ur butts
you scrawny left wing queers

[Anonymous No.7838577]

>>7838435
>>7838566
very sweet, like confectionary for my mind

[Anonymous No.7838606]

I just fapped and forgot how to love

a darling I have seen a while ago
on a subway train headed
to somewhere I don't know
I have bumped into her;
and with soft bend she bled a beam
that said the sweetest sorry
and I smiled, too and lay awake
a while before trying to dream
eyes casts beauty under their peel
detailed divine turn abase on her kneel,
innocent subtlety shift to something obscene
as restless beats peaked and receded serene
and with a heart delayed and brood set free
resolved all the planned intimacy
it's all mutual in my reverie
as sullied beauty is enough love for me

[Anonymous No.7838619]

>>7838435
this is great anon, made me feel

[Anonymous No.7838695]

>>7838560
>Lurid neon

stealing this term, whatever the fuck it means

[Anonymous No.7838745]

>>7835737
Anything on this?

[Anonymous No.7838826]

Crushing craneums consolidate the cold musseums of a lost world;
Fallen from grace as we are inevitably woven in stress and disgrace.
A slimy substance corrodes our bones as we are displayed to ourselves:
as we are made a separate being. By mere reflection, we sadly duplicate our pain.

The animal flourishes and dies; we unknowingly flourish just to die and know ourselves as dying;
every breath is ominously contaminated by the light of decay; every smile, every symptom.
Every pathology is duplicated as humans are bloodily sliced into a cold mirror;

Crushing craneums and spines now form the solid foundation of our lost world

[Anonymous No.7838863]

Not exactly a poem but just a thought

> Winter wind was weakly woken.
> Spring surprised some selected scenery.
> Summer sun strongly sang serenades.
> Autumn augmented awesome orchids awfully.

What do you anons think?

[Anonymous No.7838871]

the red clouds blaze across
the horizon, helping raise the dark
pillars of the city.

the air is warm and does not move
and the cicadas are calling
in the distance
and the sky is sliding into night

the bats commute overhead
you thought they were crows, but
they fly too slowly - their
cobwebbed wings trailing
like a banner in the wind

[Anonymous No.7838876]

>>7838863

it's certainly alliteration

[Anonymous No.7838891]

I feel the hope running low.
We never found our way home.
There is no more world, the land is gone; water is all that survived that one.
There are no escapes; gone are the days of mistakes, our mistakes.
And did you see? The night wore on.
And became the days that never begun.
The disappearing days, you know where I'm from.
Its the only place that forever stays young.
Lost at sea, we're lost at sea.
I wouldn't know my face, if you all were me.
All we have is all we see.
There is no more hope, there are no dreams.


acid inspired desu

[Anonymous No.7838896]

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

[Anonymous No.7838901]

>>7838876
...thanks

[Anonymous No.7838942]

>>7838901
Not sure you understood, so I'll explain. Alliteration is when you begin consecutive words with the same letter.

[Anonymous No.7838963]

>>7830175
I met a girl a long time ago on a windy road.
She was a woman who was beautiful in every sense of the word.
Yet she had never been told that fact.
So I was the one who told her that
I would how different things would be now
If I hadn’t been the one who turned her world around
If I was not the one who turned her life upside down
For now in front of me she stands
With blood on her hands
A smile of gleaming red
And a voice which says a line of utter dread
“I love you” she states, her voice lovely and sweet
So as I feel clothes come into my spine covered in sweat
I respond in the only way that I know how
I whisper a line, a line so quiet
That I wonder if she could hear it
In the place that we are alone
That is line is
“Please, god no.”

[Anonymous No.7839054]

I just wrote some fucking love haikus. The meter on all of these is terribly off, but fuck it.

>The wind comes and goes
>as our romance waxes and
>wanes, strong then nothing.

>The sun rises and
>sets, stars align, but still you
>think nothing of me.

>Our love is fleeting
>as all life ends quickly, the
>rose blooms then withers

I'll be waiting for some anons to tell me my shit sucks now.

[Anonymous No.7839089]

>>7836424
I was going for nihilism but thanks anyway

[Anonymous No.7839092]

>>7837807
Your version is not bad but you deleted some of the meaning I intended but thanks for the review

[Anonymous No.7839097]

"Class"

A prison for the soul
As black as coal
A hole that swallowed me whole
A death
A resurrection
No room for imperfection
12 years from my life you took
Trapped between the pages of a book
12 springs came and went
And for my freedom I cried and wept
When will my freedom dawn?
When will I be reborn?

[Anonymous No.7839113]

>>7838568
This should be the official 4chan anthem

[Anonymous No.7839116]

>>7839054
The first one I really like, but that punctuation at the end - get rid of them, please, both in the first and second haiku, it's fucking triggering me it's so horrible

The second one is very okay as well as the third.

These are very competent haikus, anon.

[Anonymous No.7839120]

>>7838434
7/10
Relatable but doesn't rhyme

[Anonymous No.7839122]

>>7839097

delete this

[Anonymous No.7839124]

>>7838381
8/10 reminds me of Harry Haller from Hesse's Steppenwolf

[Anonymous No.7839128]

>>7839122
Why?

[Anonymous No.7839135]

>>7839116
Thank you for the feedback and constructive criticism. I'll try to figure out what I did wrong with the punctuation and fix that next time. I wrote these on a whim so I didn't put much thought into anything else but their message and 5-7-5 structure.

[Anonymous No.7839140]

>>7839097
I wrote this while sitting in physics class in high school so I know it may not be that good, but I never got any critique on it and I'd appreciate some

[Anonymous No.7839192]

>>7839135
lose both those final dots in the first and second haikus, the rest is fine, even the commas. The content itself is pretty good, really. Don't want to inflate your ego or anything, but they're pretty, pretty good.

[Anonymous No.7839206]

>>7839140
It's an exercise. Nothing more.
it has no artistic value. But it's not "bad" - it's just a piece, a poem. It's an exercise in poetry. You have to do a great deal of them before you can stumble upon something with value.

No poet writes masterpieces or good stuff without years and years of practice.

When I was in highschool I wrote more than 100 poems in the span of three months and, having read a few months ago - it's been more than ten years now - I realized they could not be used in ny way, shape or form. But they were essential in making me get better and write the poetry I write today.

[Anonymous No.7839215]

>>7839206
Thanks

[Anonymous No.7839305]

I planted a row of trees
Lining with care, each new bud
Beside the walls of a new home.
They budded up so high
Those dreamy saplings
Though no rain had fallen.
'When it is Summer they shall be a cove'
I said
When it is Winter they will catch the snow
I wished.
But Autumn lingered
And grey in the sky
It rained
And the saplings did not spring
I lingered awhile. prodding the trees
They were stunted
shrinking
I left.
Sometimes I walked past that house
Looking for Winter Growth
Finding Summer bones.
Season's came and went away
Taking the memories of seeds and saplings.
Sometimes as I wander
With seeds in my palm
A house passes by
And so many steps after
The past jumps out at me
Like an amnesial scare
Reminding me that
Leaving the future
Loses the past
Such musings too are fleeting
For there are seeds to foster
Wishes to water
I planted a row of trees.

[Anonymous No.7839855]

Guarded secrets are too frail,
Sad to say i never knew,
you were searching for the words
yet the moment never came

You could have held my fragile frame,
But you dissapeared into the darkness
And the darkness turned to pain
-it never went away-
and all that remained was buried,
Deep beneath the surface.

[Anonymous No.7840523]

There's this thing called the world that we all agree exists
But we can't agree on what it is—and this persists.
Is it the planet, globe, or some universal gist?
I say it's all and none of the above—more like a cyst
Or a tryst in time between skin-trapped arbiters.
"Just look around you," a vague feeling insists
while syncopated thoughts distract.

Rhyme and Reason: characters in a children's book,
hopelessly compelling the compellable just to look
and see the sea of seeming, the things of dreaming,
before believing in the wraith of faith the cook
of the things we name and blame and stain
like the exalted saints turned malted crooks.

The story goes the world arose
In a maelstrom of biblical prose
In a hail storm of explosive throes
In the hindsight of battered woes.

We create what we do
and produce something new—so it's news.
We fall and shout and mend a bruise
before the end of this titanic cruise,
so frightened faces in heightened places
we peruse, then, unfortunately, abuse and abuse.

[Anonymous No.7840845]

Entranced by the savage
forest that entangles my gaze
I see a rose deep within its chest

Chase, chase
I walk the lupine path
each raindrop on each petal
tells a tragedy

I reach its bloody
heart a reddened rouge rose
and pluck it like a harp-string

Swift, swift
back to her bosom
before the thorns engulf me
like the grasp of slumber

Entranced by the savage
body that entangles my gaze
I place a rose gently upon her breast

wrote in 10 mins + im new so be kind

[Anonymous No.7840917]

It's taken too long for us to get here.
Those tuliped lenses have turned to grey.
Your laurel of willows, now a waterfall,
Same as it ever was, touched by no-one

Our eyes will not meet, or our hands brush.
Spectres of bygones, just passing by,
With terraformed hearts, that pull away
All memories to an ashen sky

I had always hoped for your eyes to see any foreign battle scars of mine.
In the fields of my home, or the streets of your town,
Any memory of me would be stained with doubt.


Cursed with the sleepwalker's daze,
May we both find peace.
In the ravaged fields of my home, or the mouldered streets of your town

[Anonymous No.7840972]

>>7839305
6/10 bit sappy

>>7839855
6/10 vapid

>>7840523
7/10 nice vocabulary but recklessly used for your rhyme

>>7840845
6/10 line structure breaks the flow

>>7840917
7/10 first two stanzas are clunky, too many big words that disrupt your lines. Last two stanzas are beautiful.

[Anonymous No.7840976]

>>7838942
...thanks

[Anonymous No.7841054]

>>7830175
No snow but all cold:
alongside the lake
the deer scamper across the
skein, black hooves clacking,
brown bodies steaming
shore-to-shore.

I like to run on the path
that hugs the bank, I like to
listen to the slowness
of winter, the only sound
the stomp of my shoes on
the frosted dirt.

The sweat on my lips
the only liquid thing
outside my skin, like the
lake under its inch
of ice. The deer leap
into the bracken while

behind them comes
a cracking.

[Anonymous No.7841058]

>>7835654
crit this

[Anonymous No.7841068]

Lest we dissolve into the bleakness of static
Lest we disperse all our pieces and links
Note down all the exemplifications
of Time's curvature
and the delicate disruptions
of its decalogue
We supposedly should have the right
not to succumb, thus renouncing the light
to the disjunctive theses
of the adiaphane &
the adiaphanous delight
Our longevity rushing in an awry manner

Wavelengths submerged with an encircling stammer
Minute sparks of mediocre notes
Lest we dive & drown forever
Inexorably scatter
commute the winding mountaintops
of earnest importance and grand matter
Lest we disperse into curved air

>not a native English speaker by any means

[Anonymous No.7841100]

>>7835654
It's good but I want it tighter--give me the imagery (which is there) and let me figure out the tone on my own. For example, you could start this at the fourth line and lose nothing, in fact it would be sharper. Likewise I don't need "and idles days" or "freely," or "the voids slowly fill."

It's powerful stuff--doesn't need the frills and puffs.

[Anonymous No.7841329]

>>7841068
7/10
quite nice, you have an eye for words and concepts which similar poems itt lack. would be greatly improved with less wordiness though - you got the balance in the first 6 lines but the rest was tiring to read.
>>7841054
8/10
also quite nice, a delicate touch to your imagery and diction. only suggestion is to be more careful with where you put your line breaks - sometimes they seem a little arbitrary.

>>7839054
your haikus actually refer, at the least, to nature, so you automatically trump every other shitty haiku here. also stop writing haikus.

>>7838963
4/10
makes my eyes roll, but your rhythm is fairly natural. write about other things so you don't sound like a more literate La Dispute or some shit.
>>7838896
definitely my favorite Frost poem why you posting it in a critique thread though :0 :(
>>7838891
JOHN FRUSCIANTE LYRICS - Hope - A-Z Lyrics
also they suck
>>7838871
5/10
straighten up your metre aka get some metre in most places. also try to tie your different images together more clearly

[Anonymous No.7841349]

Now if I fuck this model
And she just bleached her asshole
And I get bleach on my T-shirt
I'mma feel like an asshole
I was high when I met her
We was down in Tribeca
She get under your skin if you let her
She get under your skin if you-uh
I don't even want to talk about it
I don't even want to talk about it
I don't even want to say nothing
Everybody gon' say something
I'd be worried if they said nothing
Remind me where I know you from?
She looking like she owe you some
You know just what we want
I want to wake up with you in my eyes

[Anonymous No.7841390]

>>7841100
this is good. I have a problem with cutting out fluff, mostly because I dont notice it. thanks.

[im not a poet No.7841415]

>>7830175
always i feel empty
never am i full
do i have to be this way?

however hard we try and fail
interests never succeed
so we're stuck to no avail

"nihilist" that must be me
always they think im bleak
me? oh silly youre mistaken
ecstatic as i could be

into the void i always go
so there i must always stay

Jolly i march, head first than toes
Oh how merry i am
he's always watching when i go
never do i forget it

ceasar would be quite disturbed
ever i must search for his name
never have i though to think
at the beginning of each line it lays

[Anonymous No.7841780]

They wrote on the walls despair
Despair wrote in red
Red for all to read
Read for all their brains
Brains for all their heads
Heads for their function
Function, were all wait for a direction
Direction, we choose and path and thats where we go
Go in hope
Hope they wrote in red
Red from the blood they gave after despair
Despair is what was not given
Given was hope

[Anonymous No.7841804]

I saw the yellow moon
I saw the black of sky
I drank the green of the morning
And saw her shining eyes

I sat and talked for hours
We spoke in myth on death
I rode across the evening sun
And collected the souls and sign

Now laying still in silence
No one, no thing to know
With heavy falling eyelids
And nothing left to know

[Anonymous No.7841830]

>>7841780
Anon, I really like this.

[Anonymous No.7841832]

>>7841804
I like this

[Anonymous No.7841859]

>>7841830
Its my first poem

[Anonymous No.7841874]

Ides of March

I don’t know
Where’d I go wrong, what did I do
Why do you all have me feeling so blue?

That’s an epitaph
To my ego, arrogance
And memory.
I wanted to leave
But now I have to go.
Maybe I did fuck your ex
But what does that mean, what do you mean
Why would you trust me
To remember a promise, let alone honor it.

I’ve been so dissociated for the past 3 months
I cant remember the past 3 months.
What really upsets me though
Is how upset you are
And how calm I am.
I loved you more than my family
Hell you all were my senpai
Why are we drawing lines in the sand?

Wait
Wait
I’ll just let you all take your side, you won’t understand mine.
And that’s cool.
Just pour one out for me
When you think of your dead homies.
I’ll be elsewhere, fucked up
With nothing to do.

[Anonymous No.7841880]

>>7841874
>that senpai filter
lel

[Anonymous No.7841886]

>>7841874

Hey look, the filter caught you being a moron.

[Anonymous No.7841932]

Based off something I read in the Bible. I don't write poetry, but for some reason I was inspired

A fool complacent in wisdom's presence
Forever will remain a scoffing fool
Contempt rewarded with disease and death
The threads of life cut short from long life's spool

[Anonymous No.7841937]

>>7841874
>Senpai
Legendary

[Anonymous No.7842056]

>>7841329
>also stop writing haikus.

Can't stop won't stop

[Anonymous No.7842083]

Before I was born
My mom and dad used to Smoke strange green chemicals in the California sun
I realized now that they were young once to

but after a night of too much liquor
Clothes came off quicker
Than those people holding hands falling off the twin towers
Smashing into the earth with raw power
In that instance in my mother’s womb
Lust turned into life
And my mother found Jesus
But during my mother’s newfound Pentecostal praise
My old man stepped out and started drawing up his veins
My father left us for days
That turned into weeks
Then months and then years
So in the end you could say I was a momma’s boy
Ever since I was tall enough to reach the phone perched and mounted against the wall that I thought could never hurt me
I was old enough to answer it
And every time I cradled the talking piece of plastic between my ear
I was always greeted by somebody on the other end calling me “ma’am”
And for the longest time
I thought they were saying man
Because I was cool and hip, man

When entering grade school, I found a correlation between being cute and long swishy hair
So I grew my hair out like Samuel
like how optimists learn never cut their dreams
But this lion’s mane became
And remained
A gender peek and boos mystery to some store owners
Asking my mother and me “So. How are you young ladies doing tonight?”
I was always a crier
And with a mother manlier and tougher than I
With a mother that didn’t need a man to kill the scorpion that snuck into our house one
With the mother that would later have breast cancer without a mans support
With a mother that went through every chemo treatment by herself
With a mother that cut off her hair and breasts
With a mother that cut off the very thing that made the world think she was a woman
With this mother
It wouldn’t be strange to hear “shut up or buck up”
I heard the words “Stop being a girl” so often
She said it like it was a bad thing

A fact that’s at least a little bit close to the truth
My mother believes gay to be synonymous with the feminists
So it wouldn’t be odd for her to question my sexuality due to the clothing I wore
Or how much time I spent on appearances
“Why don’t you go do boy things?”
“How are you going to take care of your wife?”

I didn’t come out the way she expected
I think I was a failure before I was even conceived like every election for a new senator
I was always a crier
I was always so mad at myself for being so sensitive like it was my fault that I never had a “manly” example in my life
Why wasn’t it okay to play house as a boy
I made a great mother
I was never good at cops and robbers
I could never pull the trigger
I was a disappointment before I even began like the sequel to any hunger games book
I didn’t come out the way she expected
I didn’t come out the way he expected
I didn’t come out the way the world expected

[Anonymous No.7842085]

>>7842083
So now I’m at some variable of a number wondering if it still makes a difference that i've changed
My hair is shorter
My voice is deeper
And I still don’t do the things a boy does
But hey
If you want to question my masculinity
like a schoolyard circle of idiots
like a swordfight with lightsaber erections
save your breath
Because contrary to what you may believe
not every problem can be solved by “growing a pair”
You can’t arm-wrestle your way out of depression or any other mental illness homie
And I promise you my dearest basketball shorts wearing friend
There is no lite beer in the universe dudley enough to make you love yourself

‘Man up?’
Oh that’s that new superhero,
right?
Mild-mannered supplement salesman Mark Manstrong says the magic words “MAN UP”
And then transforms into THE FIVE O’CLOCK SHADOW,
The massively-muscled, deep-voiced, leather-duster-wearing super-man who defends the world from
I don’t know
Probably
Feelings.

Of course
Why would guys fight to remove their chains
When we can simply compare and boast about their lengths
Why step outside the box
When the box has these bad-ass flame decals on it
Men are cigarettes
Dangerous
Poisonous
costly
and stupid

hey You ever notice how nobody ever says “woman up?”
They just imply it
Because women
and the women's movement
They figured out a long time ago that being directly ordered around by commercials,
Magazines
And music
Is disgustingly dehumanizing
Why has it taken men so long to figure out that they are still in the same prison cell

The phrase “Man Up” suggests that competence and perseverance are uniquely masculine traits
That woman
not to mention any man
Who doesn’t eat steak
Drive a ford pickup truck
Or have lots of sex
Are nothing more than background characters
Background noise
Comic relief
Props
More than anything though
it suggests that to be yourself
Whether you wear skinny jeans
Listen to anything other than Metallica,
drink some other brand of light beer
or don’t drink at all
or write
is taboo

How many young boys have to kill themselves before this country acknowledges the problem
How many women have to be assaulted
How many trans people have to be murdered
We teach boys how to wear the skin of a man
but we also teach them how to raise that skin like a torn flag
and draw blood for it

Boy babies get blue socks
Girl babies get pink socks
…What about purple
I want to have meaningful
emotional relationships with my brothers about sadness
hope
love
I want to be weak sometimes
I want to be strong in a way that isn’t about physical power or dominance or how many people fear me
If I have a son
i want to talk to him about something other than sports or dirty jokes
My hair is shorter
My voice is deeper
And I still don’t do things a boy does
I do what a human does

[Anonymous No.7842118]

Moonlight cascades and
I see nothing
Spite the vagrant light
Leaks from my screen
And you are there
But I see nothing
Yet my ears swaddled
From coffee mist tumbling
From your parted lips
To my open ears
To speak not politics nor haywire
Only that laughter of yours
Which allows me to see again
Your similarly derelict dialect
And lack of purpose.

[Anonymous No.7842145]

>>7842071

[Anonymous No.7842170]

>>7832680
i liked this

[Anonymous No.7842173]

>>7832466
good one

[Anonymous No.7842874]

The stars in my sky, shimmering and full
ablaze with passion, brilliant with vitality.
Though they exist on the outskirts of vision,
they occupy the provinces of my soul.

From the stars, I was conceived
but carried away by the tides of fate.
I stray from the shores as I may,
yet the stars are always in my sky.

I condemn the cruelty, an unrealized hope
of which I am ruthlessly reminded.
Yet I persist and forbearingly admire,
for to deny the connection, I deny myself.

Though what once was, no longer is
my adoration remains all that I convey.
My heart in its increasing capacity,
nevermore to be fulfilled by meager acknowledgment.

Thus I observe, beholding to possibility
and find tranquility in what is here and now.
Together we venture, the wilderness beaconing
the stars in our sky, always overhead.

[Anonymous No.7843432]

>>7842083
>>7842085
too
long
did
not
read

[Anonymous No.7843443]

>>7843432
5/10, a bit sparse don't you think?

[Anonymous No.7843993]

-
Alright,
See you soon.
Oh, wait!
Bring an hdmi cable haha.
Haha.

So what do you want to see?
Haha, okay, sounds good.
Haha.
It’s not like it matters,
We’re not going to watch it anyway.

Yeah, nice to meet you.
(It wasn’t)
I’ll call you.
(I won’t)
Yeah you too, haha!
Haha!

I'm shit.
-

[Anonymous No.7844099]

Rome is burning.
Rome is burning!

Flesh and wood
The fire eats.
Pillars crumble
Colossus judges
The stars are swallowed.
The rich die
the poor die
the young die
the old die
I die

from this cancer.

[Anonymous No.7844103]

>>7844099
cut out those first two lines and then its decent

[Anonymous No.7844136]

>>7844099
2/10
>>7843993
0/10, yes you are shit.
>>7842874
2/10
>>7842118
3/10 meh
>>7841874
2/10 just give up

[Anonymous No.7844651]

>>7833289
Find something else

[Anonymous No.7844967]

>>7839305
10/10
>>7835737
fuckn far out man, careful though
>>7835654
the pace of the first stanza is like starting gun out of the gate, and than it lazes by a little, but than again thats life and this is someones life
>>7835926

Take a walk through shit
Real slow like, you have to get used to it
and even after words you wont
come up smelling like roses

Here's a title and your recognition
and the plaque that makes you famous
mark the day today you've made it

For the rest of us, the most posts we'll get
is on our funeral pyre or death bed,
and the crow's will keep flying
one bit of grain in the beak
just the same

Good night my lovely brothers
there's not much use to suffer
even if all's gone to shit
you can still laugh and love
a little bit?

[Anonymous No.7845160]

Spring Afternoon

Morning rain thickens the air with
The scent of slow demise, leftover
Autumn leaves still rotting in the dirt.
The sky is blank and blue, clouds
Deleted, sunlight shattering
Through the patchwork canopy and
Landing in fragments at my feet.
I have picked the daffodils.
I pinch them between my fingers
And feel the death stored in each
Sun-drenched petal.

[Anonymous No.7845167]

>>7845160
2/10

[Anonymous No.7847017]

are number ratings valid critiques?
i mean, you can say it's a 5/10 or whatever, but WHY is it a 5/10?

[Anonymous No.7847089]

I have never seen in my entire life
The nocturne hour entomb life
In such a complete way with its silence.
The darkness was so dense, so
Thick the grimy blanket of the shadows,
That it even seemed like some God, drunk,
Had knocked down, when he stumbled,
The bucked of nankin in which the night
Wets the brush that invokes the evening hours,
With the black ink of an entire month gorging
A single twilight; or maybe some
Ambassador of the skies, some minister
Of the clouds has spilled the cup
Of coffee that he was sipping above
The atmosphere, frightening the timid world
Of us mortals, that do not comprehend anything
Of the clergy and the politics of the heavens,
Of the gears and wheels that operate the universe.

[Anonymous No.7847171]

>>7845167

You are unfair with this score. This was not a bad poem.

[Anonymous No.7847285]

Listen to the rhythm of your heart
listen to the resonant farts.
Declarative, not descriptive
what's that got to do with this shit?
Everything, nothing, vague answers
my eyes won't jump off the dancers:
ballerinas subatomic and astronomical
touch my butt and call it comical.
Erroneous maneuvers this side of the sidewalk,
erogenous movements all around my stalk.
Jellybeans aren't beans at all,
bravery does not equate to gall,
miracles manifest in beholden eyes
looking up to empty, empyrean skies.
The theme writhes its way out of the ooze
until belt-lining the whole globe with its news:
the king is dead, the pawns live on,
the queen's head, gone, gone, gone.
The butcher shop has closed for the night
but legs still to be splayed tonight
line up the aisle where pews await
a set of needy knees to conflagrate.
Pound cake: get like O2 in space.
Proud crakes: soar into Death's face.

[Anonymous No.7847311]

Drown sorrows! you slithering exiles,
show yourselves out the door.
Walk until you can't count the miles
or till you see a souring sore

creep up your varicose legs
to crawl into ye bellybuttons,
admire the sears, bend and beg,
and enjoy your null and mutton.

Ring me, you hath? You can't.
The streets have closed for good.
Ring my doorbell? You shan't.
Enmity is my only hood—

cradle your memories in mammaries
and serve your milk to poisonous souls
who deprive the world of luminaries
and dump their sludge into bowls

of terra cotta crumbling in dismay
due to the clocks heavyhanded beatings
that began this past 5th of May
and have shown no sign of fleeting.

But every road has its tail
even in its own mouth
and every cell grows frail
soon to float on down South
where the wind picks up
its own deliberate droppings
waiting for its Gretel.

[Anonymous No.7847564]

I snagged a Chupa-Chup from my doctor's office yesterday,
flavored destitutti-frutti.
It made me feel some type of way—
what's the opposite of snooty?

The sun did its thing
and I didn't,
the pixels I will sing.
The me isn't

solidified in what people call adulthood
because
if I knew the answer I would
be—was

the wrapper stuck to the candy?
Fused, unpeelable, dandy.
Time to taste another love: brandy.
Time to haste from above: Plan B.

[Anonymous No.7847573]

Indubitably, sanctified, impalpably brilliant, the light?
Shut it off, my eyes scoff at beams on/off
and on again our relationships never end
like 30 years into the 100 years at war.
The fighting will never stop for more than—
thanks. No, it's not too hot. Thanks for asking.
Anyway, like I was saying, I don't know if I should call her—
Vroom, sputter, cough, broom the leaves, cut the dreams from your sleeve—
illuminate the dark and taint,
elucidate the mark of fate—
il fait et toi nonsensicalifornia?
I was never born but Jason Bournia/borgia/bourgeous—
off/on, kill me for a bomb birthed in Vietnam;
calm, cut the palm, calm.
Calm.

[Anonymous No.7847617]

Here's an ode to the dabblers,
the dilettantes, charlatans and stragglers,
to those with 1000 tricks but no trade,
a million hopes and dreams but no ways

to feasibly realize the 'the' in thy mind's eye,
to shake away thy highly prized disguise
that fools only the fools emboldened by gold
slyly vying for hijacking stories untold.

Your warm humble abode: the past
presenting you with memories worn that last
for an unrelenting eternity;
get over your infirmity.

Hear! Here! You odious indignitaries, sybarites, and epicures
who deny the railroads passage for conventional cures
and prescribe to the underbelly's paper
called The Prim Reaper.

How can you cry then decry so quickly,
ebulliently embrace then espy so shifty?
By your own bounds your encroach so swiftly
till civil war seems a blessing—so hit me

you beg then wince, tear shed, and bandaid your boo-boo
sighing once more implausibly, for that new-new.
Who knew, all veins end dead?
Who knew, all drains drenched red?

You did, we did, everyone my dear son (so says the Lord)
It's a shame you housed yourself in such a gourd.
You know you implored, you know you ignored.
You know you were finished from the very first word.

Such an ode
does not well bode.

[Anonymous No.7847792]

Hello, I’m mayonnaise;
Squirt me on your food.
Always with tuna, never Bolognese -
I won’t make that taste good.
Free ranged pasteurised eggs,
Rapeseed oil, mustard seeds.
I go well with beer from kegs,
And fit your condiment needs.

Deliciously creamy and smooth,
Spirit vinegar, xanthan gum.
Display me in the Louvre,
Or spread me with your thumb.
Find me in kitchens or Whetherspoons,
And read my ingredients whilst you wait;
Write a poem in the afternoon,
And question why your dinner’s late.

[Anonymous No.7847927]

>>7847792

Go to bed, Thomas

[Anonymous No.7848012]

>>7832556
this is really sweet anon, kind of delicate and dreamy, but the form is too ee cummings. also did you mean to have an unclosed parenthesis? if so, 8/10. if not, 7/10.

[Anonymous No.7848027]

>>7832680
the theme is a good one anon, but i think you can do better than 'enwtined' and 'suffuse' - they seem like fancy words just for the sake of being flowery. if you make it a little more simple i think you'll have a better poem.

that being said i really like the story you tell here.

[Anonymous No.7848037]

>>7832720
i have to say anon that it seems a little muddled, but the ending is a knockout.

[Anonymous No.7848045]

>>this comment is directed at half the poems in this thread
hey look. it rhymes. i guess that makes it a poem, right?

>>7847311
>exclamation points
>hath
>ye
>shan't

>>7847171
>>7845160
eh. it's pretty cliche and boring. i'd rather something be terribly written and memorable than well written and boring.

>>7847089
2dark4me

>>7844099
you tried and failed. only salvageable line is "the fire eats"

>>7842874
Go in fear of abstractions. What are you speaking of? What speaking? What?

>>7842118
cut the first 2 lines. fix the 3rd line. 4/10. Has potential.

>>7841932
>I dont write poetry

>>7841804
pick a different opening image that isnt cliche as fuck (really, the night sky?) solid effort tho. 6/10

>>7841780
ehhhhh the repetitions just arent doing it for me. especially with the complete lack of meter.

[Anonymous No.7848050]

>>7833112
some great lines in this one anon, but you should have faith in your writing enough not to have to use words like 'pandiculation' which realistically no one is going to recognise without googling.

i like the form a lot, just bring it down a little and it'll hit a lot harder, i think.

[Anonymous No.7848063]

this is a revision of something i posted about a week ago. hoping it's better than "schizophrenia/10" this time

[Anonymous No.7848131]

>>7848045
What's wrong with incorporating antiquated language and exclamation points into a contemporary poem?

[Anonymous No.7848141]

Iridescent sidewalk oil greets me with a smile
but I don't exist and haven't for a while?
The characters in these lines forgot their lines
unlike Voldemort's actor Ralph Fiennes.
Diseases and disorders define our bodily borders
as do the women who succumb to urgent orders.
Catharsis? I kissed a stranger on New Year's
but only because I had had more than a few beers.
Kill the last moment, let it foment sparks and seeds,
then ensure that the sisters of fate do not impede
on our lives as we have tried to know them—
these dastardly peonies, how I've tried to grow them.

[Anonymous No.7848145]

>>7848045
I bet you have a younger sister.

[Anonymous No.7848152]

>>7848131
When I was in high school, a number of the students criticized a John Swift essay because they thought the writing sounded pretentious. The teacher had to correct them, telling them that was the style of the times, and wouldn't have been considered pretentious when it was written.

Did that answer your question?

[Anonymous No.7848159]

>>7848131
it sounds ridiculous and there is 0 need for it. furthermore, that poem doesn't even commit to the style. all the archaic words do is take an already melodramatic poem and ham it up to 11.

that said, the last 3 stanzas are actually pretty good. But I didn't even read them the first time due to how terrible the first 3 stanzas are.

[Anonymous No.7848180]

>>7848145
?

[Anonymous No.7848221]

>>7848180
He means he bets you have an imouto.

[Anonymous No.7848399]

>>7848159
Fair enough—though I still think hodge-podging styles can be a style in its own right, though I assume that even then some internal consistency's required.

>>7848152
But does my poem really come off as pretentious? If so, dat ain't good

[Anonymous No.7848607]

Westward bound
blackness
disturbed by
blight of
light

[Anonymous No.7848642]

>>7848399
>But does my poem really come off as pretentious? If so, dat ain't good
I told you my story instead of my interpretation of my story and instead of my interpretation of your poem purposefully.

[Anonymous No.7848983]

colon parentheses
the new punctuation
used to convey a nonserious mood
when bombarded with
the insecurities of a child
invalidation of her nerves,
anxieties and fears
over the fact that
I'm the best she's got
Is gonna get
and ever has had
if I were to be sincere
the punctuation would be reversed

[Anonymous No.7849026]

She awoke, with fever induced excitement -
but unwilling to leave, her land of fantastical dreams

Dimmed orbs of dark, squinting at the winking light of a newborn sun -
Drowsy fingertips grasping at sheets, flinging them off her naked form

The soft whispers of robes, sliding, covering clammy, goosebumped skin -
A one dimensional protection against the unquenchable thirst of the wind

Seeping, twisting and slipping through cracks of a frozen house, as the world changed around it -
An electrifying shock as bare feet pressed against the icy chill of marble tiles

Soft padding of footsteps down an empty corridor -
Guarded by painted eyes, unblinking as time passed by

That looked away, from the door that led -
Out, out into the outside world.

The whispers of ghosts following her trail -
As she flings the heavily decorated doors open, yet weak as they crack and bend

Down into her fragrant gardens she goes -
Toes digging into the soft vibrant soil, bursting with life

The tender touch of petals -
warms her blood

As the prick of thorns -
bleeds rubies down her once unmarked hand

A blissful smile turns into grimace and sadness -
a head turned in question

Her life secluded -
to the eternal building, she called home


A dainty form, vanishing in and out -
discovering a new thing here, and here and there

The delighted laughs -
and muted whimpers


Always quick to run back to the heavily decorated doors -
their hinges creaking, quivering as their form weakened

Until one day, she left -
She left, left too far that allowed for no hurried escape

Ending in a shy face, hidden behind a vine covered pillar, among rubble of ancient civilizations -
As a stranger, beckoned

With answers, and questions -
That he freely gave, and whom she freely went with

Years went by -
When she finally visited the house, with corridors of painted eyes

She slipped back into robes from her youth -
Snuggled under the sheets that had warmed her in the coldest of nights

She closed her eyes -
And as she did, fire was birthed into the house that had stood frozen, as the world changed around it

The chorus and singing of flames with their suits of red, blue and orange, reverberated in the home -
their contralto and soprano tones creating a symphony of scorch and ruin

Leaving a skeleton wall and blackened faces -
And the form of a sleeping maiden

As vines and trees creeped in and all other forms of green took root -
Growing and twisting, bathing in the warmth of the sun

A shelter alight with the beating heart of life -
A mass of roots and shyly peeking tendrils

Allowing for gentle breezes from the tenderest of winds -
Yet shielding from the mightiest of tempests, as their leaves shook, bending and turning but never breaking

Stirring in her slumber -
She woke, to find herself laying in a bed of grass

And never went back to sleep


Any critique would be nice.

[Anonymous No.7849061]

propositioned by
a distant flame
not of love, but lust
at least for I

propositioned to
engage in lewd acts
sexual in nature
textual in medium

a disturbing lack of
exposition, formatting
tone, style, substance
marred her attempts

following suit, I
being a reciprocative lover
attempted to weave rhythmic
and wax poetic, amorously

a hopelessly one-sided battle
of dueling romantics
she clearly gleaning nothing from
the labors of a master

and to my dismay when
expecting praise or at least
multisyllabic recognition
I received a most ungrateful reply

"hot"

[Anonymous No.7849087]

I see these threads all the time and never post because, well, I've never attempted to write poetry before. I figured I'd give a quick little thing a shot.

It's called Back Porch Bedroom.

"Cicada Sound Scratched my ears.
Lazy panting at my knee.
I wore the air that summer's eve,
unconcerned with those who might see.

The dripping sun stained me-
from white to orange-rind.
One place those rays couldn't grab me-
my big fat fucking behind."

[On the Creation of Niggers No.7849096]

When, long ago, the gods created Earth
In Jove's fair image Man was shaped at birth.
The beasts for lesser parts were next designed;
Yet were they too remote from humankind.
To fill the gap, and join the rest to Man,
Th'Olympian host conceiv'd a clever plan.
A beast they wrought, in semi-human figure,
Filled it with vice, and called the thing a Nigger.

[Anonymous No.7849116]

>>7849026
Cant really critique it since Im a poetry pleb, but it sounded really nice, had good yet not overly pretentious vocabulary, and youre really good at creating atmospheres, so 10 outta 10. Well done.

[Anonymous No.7849163]

>>7849116
Thank you!

[Anonymous No.7850033]

>>7849026
I really like this one! I'm also not well versed in poetry but some changes I would make
>heavily decorated doors
I always prefer adjectives to smoothly flow by without notice from the reader, and here it seemed to be kind of an abrupt description. I was thinking maybe "as she flings the ornamented doors open" or even just removing decorated. Also it was noticeably repeated in stanza 15

I really like
>As the prick of thorns -
>bleeds rubies down her once unmarked hand
but I would make the s in bleeds to make it singular

[Anonymous No.7850038]

>>7850033
meant to say remove the s

[Anonymous No.7850114]

In summer blare, I trekked through day; fair
in its subtle grace. I saw her then, and to
behold her vis I was thrust in long stare;
condemned to yearn amorously through

My lovelorn succor, bereft in adore:
Forged in stark mortal assumption.
She met my gaze in amused candor
and blushing porcealin, in conjunction.

Of passing glance, twas not passing chance
And her crestfallen face cradled my eyes
They cursed Saturn and begged second glance;
as her skirt was tugged by one of her own.

The matronly beauty, feared it her last
As torturous death staked the helm and mast.

[Anonymous No.7850131]

>>7850114
the scansion is weird, I think the enjambment in the first line is throwing the rhythm off

[Anonymous No.7850140]

>>7830371
that's really pretty anon

[Anonymous No.7850147]

>>7831568
niiiiice

[Anonymous No.7850161]

>>7831574

I think the times and locations don't do much for the work and could be cut

The first stanza could be broken up, perhaps in the pause after Liturgy

happy good friday, anon

[Anonymous No.7850168]

>>7850161
Thanks anon

[Anonymous No.7850170]

>>7832551
ouch

the listing in that third stanza is really nice

the word Came might be set off by itself to raise the tension even more

[Anonymous No.7850176]

>>7832632
i'm sorry anon i'm so sorry

[Anonymous No.7850182]

>>7833865
cute

[Anonymous No.7850192]

What is it I thought when I did it?
A purple flower quaking in the warm green breeze...

almost violent

[Anonymous No.7850209]

>>7835654
i think you want "vain" not "vane"

with the strong meter in the first lines i was expecting rhyme and was kind of jostled when there was none. not really a criticism, just an observation

i think "it abounds" and "the voids slowly fill" don't add to it and could be removed to make it tighter

the first three lines of the last stanza i think could also be removed or rewritten? it's the word trivial, maybe - i think it would be more impactful overall if you kept to simple language: "cascade" and "expiration" could also be done away with

it's good, though

[Anonymous No.7850218]

>>7837904
wow that's really lovely

[Anonymous No.7850235]

>>7841054
that's gorgeous

sharp and lovely

[Anonymous No.7850243]

>>7842083
>>7842085
stolen!

bad luck that you ended up in the same thread with the only anon on this board that actually listens to shitty slam poetry

[Anonymous No.7850251]

>>7847564
huh, not bad

[Anonymous No.7850256]

>>7850161My grandmother, with
Her crucifix and beads,
Invites me to morning
Prayers, where
Shuttered creed taught me
Immolation by
Liturgy.

Orthodox
Combustion is a
Different faith to
That which the
Book tells.

At four I knelt in
Stained light and
Stared at the backs
Of eyes.
I supplicated a
Statuette to conform;
Watched hunches
Tip themselves
In the morning’s lamination:
Pews tigered by the greens.

The exultancy of youth
Wears hard
Underfoot, memory
Shores itself
Against the wire-walls
Of my childhood.


Is this better?

[Anonymous No.7850266]

>>7850256
i like that a lot

seeing the second stanza set off, i think "is" could be cut there to make it flow nicer

the third stanza could be broken up somewhere, not sure where - the added lines make it too long for my tastes

[Anonymous No.7850272]

see,
the thing is, even in my head you did not encourage pursuit
the way i always remembered you with that halfway expression in your eyes
in and outside the world, liminal
no creature of crude flesh

i wanted to follow you out and beyond
hand in your hand, white and frail and clean:
rarified like deer bones by the roadside
i wanted to know what you knew with your slim ankles and your eyes all under your hair
and that hollowness
the empty place beneath a bell

well, dear one, i did not belong there
mine was heat and light and animals wantings
and the rain made my hair stick to my face where it seemed to disappear in yours
in that soft dark, like returning to the cloud where it was born
and i resigned myself to the ground
to scabs, dirty nails, blood, and laughter

and was content

yet,
on nights much like these, the cold climbs my fingertips
and you occur to me
and (in a way i know you would love)
i remember something
that was not, and never has been
and won't

[Anonymous No.7850338]

plz don't die ;_;

[Anonymous No.7850494]

>>7850256
Yes :)

[Anonymous No.7850501]

>>7850131
Good point. I'll change it up.

[Anonymous No.7850502]

>>7850033
Thank you, I do have trouble connecting sometimes, thank you for the suggestions!

[Anonymous No.7850911]

>>7849096
quality.