\\Poetry Thread.//

>>9920284
Daily Bread

Shoulda heard what the devil said to me
Showed me how every friend is an enemy
Pressure is my pedigree
And every night is Gethsemane

>>9920288
Id fuck you on the fiftieth date

>>9920288

Not too bad.

>>9920459
Can you enlighten me on the implication of this sentence, dear friend?
>>9920465
My gratitude is present to you.

>>9920476
ah the post modernist, so contrived and lost in his artifice he cannot even uncover his own point, what are you babbling about

>>9920288
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ggLTPyRXUKc

listened to the first track while listening, almost did what the pic is displaying, immense power of simple illustration

>>9920476
What took place on the night in Gethsemane you pseud, hell, absolute hell

>>9920284
How is that man floating?

>>9920497
thats me a long time ago, i still feel it

Spare me just three last words.
"I love you" is all she heard.
I'll wait for you, but I can't wait forever.
And I can't make it on my own.
Because my heart is in Ohio.
So cut my wrists and black my eyes.
So I can fall asleep tonight, or die.
Because you kill me.

https://youtu.be/gVtHvItwjHs?t=315

>>9920523
go to 5:15 for the poetry

>>9920459
what you mean by this statement, im curious too kek

>>9920523
wtf lol thats so racialist

Kick back
Watch it crumble
See the drowning
Watch it fall

I feel just terrible about it
That's sarcasm
Let it burn

I'm gonna make a toast when it falls apart
I'm gonna raise my glass above my heart
Then someone shouts "that's what they get!"

The dinosaurs will slowly die
And I do believe no one will cry
I'm just fucking glad I'm gonna be
There to watch the fall

>>9920288
Is this one of those funny ironic rap songs faggots make?
>>9920497
>>9920511
You are both going to burn in hell forever.
>>9920514
Garbage
>>9920527
Le kekekkkmmmmmmmm
>>9920532
Wow, you're on your way to writing a pop song!

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Hitler did nothing wrong
In World War Two

>>9920459
why fiftieth date? whats the significance?

>>9920559
i wasn't being facetious, thats how i feel everyday, history is full of tragedy, i dont deserve to live, like op said "every night is gethsa

>>9920465
wtf does not too bad mean, is that good or ok, like what, be specific, are you mentally challenged?

>>9920288
I like it, it sounds like song lyrics

>>9920583
This also sounds musical to me

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>>9920692
I forgot to add my image.

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>>9920459
I'm confused too keek

mirror unable to form
identity spirit
leech from the spectres
i peer from under
half gone
minor sonic intrigue
repeat nothingness

within a speaker
distant ambiance
envelop me in cellophane
drive pike through membrane
purvey remain with derelict connection

are you the proprietor
a kept slederen fringe
brandish emancipation
your spherical i key
orbital pin delete
collate thin dereliction
serfdom of neurotic transmission

this trite is leaking into consciousness
endure a mind self severed

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I feel like I have fallen in love with the idea of poetry, as opposed to the act of writing poetry itself... I am inspired to write, but lack the idea of what to write about. I am a big fan of Rage Against The Machine; Zack's lyrics read like beat poetry (I know he spent some time in jazz clubs in new york in the early 2000s). He is passionate about the shit he writes about.
I feel like I have no passion for anything. I am a jaded degenerate on 4chan. I feel like a shallow being who is creatively bankrupt.
How do I satiate this itch? What do I write? How do I write?
Do I need to be passionate?

>>9920514
Maaaaaaan thanks for the memories (which happens to also be another old, shitty song)

>>9921043
I suck at poetry, but I keep trying anon. I just write it, and when I finish, I like to keep checking it to turn into more poetry than the novel stuff I do.
But try anon! Try anything! You can do it anon! Write about anything, just give it a try!
Here, I challenge you to write poetry about the quiet and peacefull feeling when you are at the countryside and strong wind hits the grass.
Try it anon! You can do it, desu!

Chad
I like him cus he's bad
I like and hate my Dad

Dad
I like to make him mad
And that's why I like Chad

>>9921043
>I am a jaded degenerate on 4chan
you'll be fine, just let the muse speak through you and she'll give you all the horrible words to relate yourself to the universe. since you like the beats and 4chan it should be pretty easy
>I who wished I'd gassed Serbs and Muslims but instead watched Bill Clinton play the sax on Animaniacs in tract housing
>I who epic roleplayed as a nazi and transsexual but couldn't make up my mind which flavour jerky I wanted and so always bought the same pack until the store didn't restock it and I felt finally unaccepted and invalidated by the capitalist system and so sent all my dollars to J-list in a treasonous order of specific jerky and non-descript onaholes
>I who cried when my poetry didn't make it past the robot filter on /r9K/ thousand, the algorithm bored with my degeneracy as much as I am spitting back the jaded assumption I am worth as much as spam or third party advertising
writes itself really.

>>9921077
>>9921498
This is a first draft. I call it:

Billy Corgan and the Derivative Title.

The dashboard light flickers.
Exit is approaching.
Remember to turn off.
Tired.
Need to stop.
Want to stop.
Past another exit.
Will get the next one.
Foot fallen asleep.
Constricted in the seat.
Veering into whiplash.
No license.
Alone on the road.
Ignore all signs.
Never touch the brakes.
Forget to turn off.
Another exit is coming.
The dashboard light flickers.

>>9921638
could be worse, just keep going

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>>9920459
>50th
?

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>>9920459
Hunh?

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>>9920459
Whuuu?

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>>9920459

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>>9920459
Doesn't 50th have importance?

>>9921946
That's really just prose. Or then, could you explain your poetic mechanics used here? I'm not seeing it.

The light dances
on the mirror
A sordid smile
from ear to ear

Lonely in
his gilded cage
He cannot
turn the page

The wind blows
but is not heard
Drowns out
the chirping of the birds

As the sheets fall
over his vacant body
And the sleepy shake
Of someone nodding

It's time
to roll the dice
again

It's time to try
to not to choose, not to trepidate, but to be
like clouds, or waves, or rocks,
rolling and crashing and tumbling

Those who dare to not to choose
will roll and tumble and crash
and fail and lose and be alone,
and those who persist still in only being
will find that no mistake was made

>>9920284
Is he ded?

>>9920459
explain.

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>>9921480
nice play with form, but your imagery is weak, and if your image is weak the poem is weak

>>9923586
this has a rap-like quality that feels a tad shoe-horned
also, why is it pink?

>>9923746
Speaking of form, could you give a little insight into yours? It's interesting, and I'm sure it has a purpose, but I can't quite grab it. Not sure of your literary imagery, nor then how the format's imagery plays in.

>>9920459
Why fiftieth kek?

>>9920678

Do you have autism?

to be or not to be
that is the question

>>9923959
deep. do you mind if i use this in my poetry anthology? i'll quote you as anonymous

>>9921638
This is my second attempt. Haven't got a title for it.

Am I justified? Am I satisfied?
Toiling away in morose denial,
Refusing to ask for help, refusing to smile.
Am I justified? Am I satisfied?
Having the privilege to ask the question,
Never experience true hardship
and label it depression.
Is it selfish to do anything?
To seek happiness?
Or wallowing in sadness to which I cling...
Am I justified? Am I satisfied?
No passion for survival, no drive.
How can I continue living my life
when I refuse to strive?
Slit the wrist of the leech on society.
Is that solving the problem?
Will that end the anxiety?
Or am I spitting in the face of everyone
who don't have the chance to better their lives?
Who determines when I am done?
Am I justified? Am I satisfied?

>>9923980
>B
>B
>A
>B
>B
>A
>B
>B
you don't literally implement the rhyme scheme

have you read the text?
for reading here is rare
I myself have read the wiki page
and so can spot a pseud

>>9924008
So cliche I want to throw up.

Please--You want to write poetry?

Then right now, in reply to this, tell me what morose denial looks like.

>>9923746
How do you feel about Joyce?

>>9924029
Lying in bed for weeks at a time. Telling myself things will get better if I stay a few minutes longer.
Not having the strength to get up and convincing myself I can if I sleep a little longer

>>9924041
Failing college because I can't get out of bed.

>>9924044
I liked it OP. It's not good, but I know how you feel. Keep writing and improving, use it as an outlet to help turn yourself around.

My feelings are hurt
Oh woe is me
My feelings inside
I think I may cry

Someone hurt my feelings
Oh no I cry
My feelings are hurt
I moan and I sigh

I swear I will end my life
if these feelings remain
The only cure for my pain
the embrace of the grave

Feely feelings ree
You were too good for this world.
RIP me

You think me weak
Not able to bring pain
The reality is
I simply won't try in vain
If pain be your wish
Pain I shall give
But I'll do it right
I'll catch that big fish
I've held off for long
Tarried, you see
I can't do it wrong
Or I'll only hurt me
There's pain to go 'round
And I've plenty to share
But I'm staying my hand (for now)
Only because I still care

>>9924041
Wrong. That's whining. Remove yourself, stop being egocentric in your thoughts. Remove the I and see what morose denial really is:

It's the shattered irises of a murderer in passion. Blood dripping through open eyes pool in the well of the soul.

>>9924092
Unfortunate typo. Broke my poise--but not my point.

>>9924041
this sounds better than that phrasing
>>9924092
the point is to make him sound less like a teenager.

>>9924080
I couldn't help a smirk
Typing my post in glee
It's funny mocking feelings
That apply to me

Feeling? What feeling?
I've been divorced from the matter
Choosing between war and peace
Who wouldn't opt for the latter?

>>9924104
I'm not a bully I'm just someone who's been there, all up in my head.

>>9924116
The choice we have, both you and I
To all may not exist
Perhaps for some it is not there
Why mock them and persist?

>>9924140

I don't know if you're trying to get me to respond with a stanza, but I think you are, so alright I guess

All have a choice
Do not be deceived
That choice they won't make
Is driven by greed

>>9924137
your edgy shit is not poetry

>>9924019
>>9924029
>>9924079
>>9924092
>>9924104
>>9924137
I really appreciate the feedback, by the way.
I understand the nature of 4chan, so I'm not perceiving any of this as hostility or bullying. I know I am shit at writing right now, but I won't get better if I am coddled.
I will continue trying.

My poems are bad
It makes me sad
No fortunes they will claim

Perhaps one day
Poor poems at bay
There lies my fleeting fame.

My poems are bad
I craft them as such
When I'm spitting on someone
Why make such a fuss?

>>9924169
Not the poster you think I am

>>9924182
it's applies to you too.

This is a sonnet I wrote

Aside the waters edge i sit at ease
The careless days I lap up now and then
I cherish them as well the ocean breeze
The crashing waves recorded with my pen

And thinking worser times I try avoid
A struggle which I try and cannot beat
To work is thought, I cease my time enjoyed
Another grinding week i shall repeat

Although beside me sits the girl of mine
Attention turning now to her, I smile
Her eyes of blue are looking simply fine
The gentle touch of hers in loving style

To salvage eclisping moments as these
To her my credit Not the oceans breeze

>>9924198
>worser

>>9923952
I'm not OP i just hate when people say "not bad". Wtf kind of lazy language is that, specify and stop being so ambiguous, you're on /lit/ for fuck sakes, pull yourself together!

>>9924201
Worser is a word

Kind of fitting since I'm writing a shakesperian sonnet and he used it frequently

>>9924191
I haven't posted anything

>>9924109
I couldn't help but laugh
As a feely feeler told me how I felt
For in his feely melancholy
He had attempted to feel for me

My mother holds me tight with love and care.
Above all else, she says I'm fair.
In return she asks for how I feel.
And in return I tell her that you've got a deal.

I told my son that his mother and I
are getting divorced after giving a try.
He cries and begs for us not to steal.
I hold his head saying let's make a deal.

My friend, tonight, he picked me up,
from a bar where I get drunk.
I scratch and puke all over his truck.
I say let's make a deal; he yells what the fuck.

Tonight I crashed into a tree.
No one else was there but me.
Thinking if I'll make it and if someone heard the squeal.
I shake two bloody hands and say let's make a deal.

Not too bad
Too bad or
Not bad
To not be
Or to be not
Not to be and
What not
What not
What not
Not and but so
Not so
How so
Woe to you
The devil lost his shoe

>>9924265
see i like traditional poetry like this, none of that muddy post modernist over complicating language arbitrarily and lacking clarity due to painfully elusive writing, fuckin hate that shit, poetry need be mysterious at most, not impenetrable and pretentiously unaccesible

>>9924282
*inaccessible

>>9920478
>>9920527
And the other samefags

Its that shitty adam sandler movie

Third attempt:

Falling asleep in the diva sized bed.
Weeping like a teenager and envying the dead.
You're not the first one to become existential.
Ready to burst in your suburban citadel.
Sadness begets sadness, realize this now.
You'll remain worthless if you don't learn how;

Stop being passive and become an active part of your life for once.

>>9924293
can you explain the context?

>>9924310
There's progress here. Just keep the ball rolling, be honest with yourself, and learn from your mistakes. You're going to be the only one who stops yourself.

>>9924329
It's like you showed a girl your dick and she laughed then fucked you, and now you want to off yourself because of the laugh--completely unaware of the whole situation.

Threats, insignificant made
To a soul undeserving, excessive
Mired in the thick brea of decisions
Only made by the damned:

Others are detached, and rightfully so
A bargain upheld, roots in what cannot be made known
It was I who broke faith, but the payment was due
Beholden I was, and made others so
A reaper I deal with, though he might not seem much to first glance
Behind those dark shades a hateful fire does dance
We didn't think it could-
We never thought-
No-
We destroyed what was good, and laughed all the while
Architects of a reaper, who would come for our smiles
Madness, madness, make it stop, talk! break!
Shh... No, no, no, he says
Not the one in first place
A marathon joke, we thought we were the hosts
Then we passed the torch, the finality of our joke
Then paralyzed we watched, half in horror, half feigned glee
As that torch we once championed served to burn our family tree
What on Earth is he doing? The fool, the clown!
Doesn't he know he'll bring this whole house of cards down?
Our charade is made public, our friends mitigate our disgrace
By insulting the reaper we try and save face
It is a shallow sham, yes, we are only fooling ourselves
Into a pristine perception of yearly death knells
Once he was good, that we made sure to destroy
We've since had trouble with the man, now that we've killed the boy

>>9924378

I feel like theres a lot of compelling things you've said here but desu the ABABAB primitive rhyme structure is pleb

I get the feeling you're just trying to say something impactful while still being so lazy that you won't actually try to write a half decent poem

>>9924342
What does mean in relation to the poem? Forgive me but the completely unaware of the whole situation part doesn't make sense to me

>>9924430
I don't necessarily think that an abab rhyme scheme is all that bad. Look at all the great sonnets (however one may deem them an exception)

I will agree that Without any meter, emjambing or caseura that it will come off as lazy, very lazy

In rocky sand
Clumps on hump
Singular the caravan of Shams of Tabraiz

The mystic, charlatan
And his use of haze
Pure his thoughts
And so we praise

There, him, he relates
The Parable of The Cave
Grant him heaven
Give us understanding

>>9924537
Not great m8

I like what you're doing. But at the end of the day a poem is meant to be rhythmic. I'm afraid you strayed too far away from the music of the poem if you know what I mean

I'll try to re write for you

>>9924537
one of the best ones in thread

don't listen to this fag >>9924551

Are you okay are you okay?
Yes I'm okay.
End poem.

>>9924580
How? I wouldn't call it a poem in all honestly, remove the alluisons which are painfully obvious and it fades to nothing

Could write much better in prose, which takes away greatly from the verse

>>9924537
I'm not going to re write it. The first stanza has issues with flow and rhythm except for the first line. Second line needs complete reworking

Second stanza is better, needs work. I think removing the and from the second line creates better flow and outlines what is said in the first line firmer (could use this for powerful imagery)

Third stanza is ok. The parable of the cave has a bit of an issue with flow, but is a necessary evil, leave it

The three stressed syllables in grant him heaven is good, is abrupt in a nice way, making a stament (literally as well)
Give him understanding has similar issues throughout

It has a lot of potential, which is why I'm doing this for you

I can tell you wrote it very quickly

>>9924599
I did

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poem in prose

memes are good
memes are great
memes help me
masturbate

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burned and twisted,
silent, but breathing,
currents of static are gently weaving,
flooding-no, fleeing,
indeterminable course,
an unknown end with no distinct source.
distant shadows, ambient light
inform vacant faculties of divine spite.
wilted rhythms, broken chords,
a cold, dead womb,
malignant, malformed

Turtle blood and turtle gloves
Shift shanks of big banks in high ranks
Foreclosure, bulldozer, with red rovers, sorry Homer, it's over..

>>9923746
this was actually a super valid critique of my imagery and now I've begun to rework some stanzas thanks to you!

As far as yours goes, I genuinely don't care for the form. If there is a purpose, it's so abstract and obscure that all it does is distract from the content, which should take center stage. Your work should be able to stand on its own without requiring an explanation on how to read it, in that sense it's very elitist.

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First draft of a W.I.P.
Thoughts?
It's twice as long as shown.

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>>9923929
the hyphens connect to the following hyphen to allow you to create new sentences/lines
there is a typo:

>although I cannot he-
(the hyphen here should be a dash to allow nesting of that mechanic)

everything else is to serve that mechanic in becoming easier to spot

>>9924039
I like him, I think he gave up to easily on poetry though. Could've been something even better than he was if he had worked harder, earlier.

>>9925869
If the form doesn't work for you in that piece, then the content doesn't either. The form allows the content (although the technique is rough)

>Your work should be able to stand on its own without requiring an explanation on how to read it

here's a more straightforward piece (well, piece of a piece)

>>9920284
Never been talented at writing poems and the last piece I wrote was made six months ago.

Le choc de nos corps résonne -
Mi Amor, mi corazón;
L'esprit tut, le cœur raisonne -
Mi Amor, mi corazón;

Il reste les écorchures,
Tes clopes écendrées,
Tes courbes excentrées
Et hachurées de griffures.

Restent l'encre et les mots,
Le silence et les maux,
Nos nombreux égarement,
Nos rires de garnements.

Le choc de nos corps résonne -
Mi Amor, mi corazón;
L'esprit tut, le cœur raisonne -
Mi Amor, mi corazón.

http://affalencia.blogspot.pt/

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How can I create a poem on par with H.P. Lovecraft's "On the Creation of Niggers"?

>>9920284
What's your guys' favorite William Blake poem? I just found a collection and I want to get into his poetry

Markovian Parallax Denigrate

Grinning parasites beset the host,

who clench the Glass, commence the toast.
The multiverse, all the while, dangles Our string...

As joyous mutilations erupt,

persevering through the Spring.
Bounded; so we head for the Coast,

in full pursuit of John Titor’s ghost.
Oozing, mere fiber-optic ruminations and worse,

salient in failure, inevitably hunting for the Source.
And so, the Fighting endures for the crumbs.

The ballparks, oligarchs, corner-stores and slums,

open spaces blanketed by spectacle & infanticide -

crafted by the Hand, quantitated & calcified.
When its finally recognized,

that “the time is nigh”

& praxis can no longer wait…
As the proverbial barbarians salivate,

genuflect and dry-hump one another -

queueing, just outside the gates.
Remember dear children,

we’re all going full throttle,

on this particular Everett-Wheeler Model.

- GG 12/12/14

WASTE YOUR TIME
STUDY THE SEWER

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I will appreciate all opinions.


Na dor medonha dum silente desespero
Tive minha hirta mágoa, eviterna
Interrompida pelo som austero
Duma voz tão suave, tão terna,

Tão linda, tão materna!
Era a Esperança, mulher bela e sensual
Que prometia-me amor, alegria eterna,
E a paz etérea duma catedral.

Entra, entra minha amada!
Mas quando lanço-me a seus braços
Encontro apenas a gélida dor amargurada

Da inerte e miserável solidão.
A paz doce e indolor que sonhei
É pluma, é quimera dum fugidio coração

>>9927631
Not certain of a couple of the metaphors/allusions; but the language is honestly great, and so is the gist of the imagery. Don't post your stuff here man, go somewhere useful.

Allegretto a piacere, cantabile.

I saw the idle daffodils,
In memories of august loam,
Reclined against the window sills.

Boiling tanneries and grain mills -
fixtures - past, by recce and roam
I saw the idle daffodils.

Breezes shiver lace-flimsy frills
And stir pages of mam's mammy's tome
Reclined against the window sills.

Scalding sedative of stills,
Spent breath born atop crowning foam -
.I saw the idle daffodils.

A long mild flame kindles the hills,
Fringed by an underslip of gloam,
Reclined against the window sills.

Before the bellchime-blown lone chills
Raked the harvest and root-ripe home,
I saw the idle daffodils
Reclined against the window sills.

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>>9928132
Loved it

guys you should read more Tuwim
Straszne mieszkania. W strasznych mieszkaniach
Strasznie mieszkają straszni mieszczanie.
Pleśnią i kopciem pełznie po ścianach
Zgroza zimowa, ciemne konanie.

Od rana bełkot. Bełkocą, bredzą,
Że deszcz, że drogo, że to, że tamto.
Trochę pochodzą, trochę posiedzą,
I wszystko widmo. I wszystko fantom.

Sprawdzą godzinę, sprawdzą kieszenie,
Krawacik musną, klapy obciągną
I godnym krokiem z mieszkań - na ziemię,
Taką wiadomą, taką okrągłą.

I oto idą, zapięci szczelnie,
Patrzą na prawo, patrzą na lewo.
A patrząc - widzą wszystko oddzielnie
Że dom... że Stasiek... że koń... że drzewo...

Jak ciasto biorą gazety w palce
I żują, żują na papkę pulchną,
Aż papierowym wzdęte zakalcem,
Wypchane głowy grubo im puchną.

I znowu mówią, że Ford... że kino...
Że Bóg... że Rosja... radio, sport, wojna...
Warstwami rośnie brednia potworna,
I w dżungli zdarzeń widmami płyną.

Głowę rozdętą i coraz cięższą
Ku wieczorowi ślepo zwieszają.
Pod łóżka włażą, złodzieja węszą,
Łbem o nocniki chłodne trącając.

I znowu sprawdzą kieszonki, kwitki,
Spodnie na tyłkach zacerowane,
Własność wielebną, święte nabytki,
Swoje, wyłączne, zapracowane.

Potem się modlą: "od nagłej śmierci...
...od wojny... głodu... odpoczywanie"
I zasypiają z mordą na piersi
W strasznych mieszkaniach straszni mieszczanie.

i keep your toothbrush
hidden, under the sink,
over-ripe, un-welcome guest

(behind the towels, behind the
overnight protection
always, green bristles and shame)

not as a secret shrine, but
to clean the toilet bowl when
i am angry that you left.

i guess it was
a bad make and model, again

Just started getting into poetry and just wrote this

Are the good times more sufferable than the bad?
In these fantasies, it shows what i can never have
To my face she says no
To my mind she loves me I know

In the plain it is bad with much confusion
In the magical it is happy but an illusion
Which is worse I can say
Always happens when dreary and I lay

I see a smile which I never see
I see happiness in me, which can never be
The laying feels excitement
The standing feels frightment

The images of what could be
Hurt far more than the reality
I desperately await the rising light
To take away the pain that comes with night

>>9920284
First draft garbage, but I'd like to hear what to improve on; got no feedback on /crit/:


In the cold, self-imposed
Not yet fully,
Decomposed

Through fire and flame
Vietnam Joe, my name
Walked insane
Heart pain...

In the cold, self-imposed
Not yet fully,
Decomposed

Head on, charge
Follow my lead
Sarge!

Medic didn't hear
LZ isn't clear
Helo cannot land
Blood has turned to sand

Chilling in my bed,
doing fuck all,
I procrastinated sorting myself
Eight years in a row.

>>9928848
It is far too abstract:
What is cold and self-imposed?
'Fire and flame' is redundant and a cliche.
How does one 'walk insane'?
'Heart pain' is abstract and veers into trite territory
'Head on, charge' is redundant, especially with the next 'Follow my lead'

Considering the final stanza:
The first, second and third lines follow the same form. As well, using three informal words, 'Medic', 'LZ', 'Helo', and contractions accentuates the unchanging form and appears to be a struggle with the words themselves.
'Blood has turned to sand' is cliche, even more so in the context of war.

am i the literally only person here who prefers tied verse

>>9928655
It's terrible, but you have to start somewhere. Read more poetry, from different poets.

modernversespoetry.blogspot.com

>>9927631
Gonna have to disagree with other bud. Not to flame, but hopefully to help you direct this.

I'd recommend you read Mina Loy (A LOT) to start looking at how your SAT words can be poetic, but while you're doing that, be sure to read verse in simpler language as well. A chunk of your latinate lexicon seems to try and mask weak imagery.

>As joyous mutilations erupt,

what is that suppose to say/mean to you? what am I supposed to see? Generalizing like that is nearly always bad practice. Show me the PARTICULAR mutilations and work to make them joyous. It'll be harder, but it'll also elevate the poem considerably

>open spaces blanketed by spectacle

lines explaining images are p much always useless, trust your reader to make metaphorical and tonal connections in your writing

Using both & and 'and' is infuriating

> just outside the gates.
>Remember dear children,

>we’re all going full throttle,

this is the most successful bit in the entire piece, because it allows a genuine emotive voice to seep through and engage with the vaguely vorticist concepts.

Today I woke and looked outside again
But the sky looked the same to me
Something told me that this world had changed
Couldn't figure out what did it mean

Staring into the hourglass inside
Mind racing and wild
Blinded by eyes that don't see the facts
Uncertainty with all the cracks in a smile

Time escapes me, I feel like letting go
Nothing to slow me down
Diving into the sea, I can feel myself letting go
Not gonna hit the ground
The sky is painted free, why can't we understand
It's all pure intent in the end

Am I breathing life or death, are we making progress
Not really sure this time
The choice is yours and mine
Not sure what's next, its all too complex
We'll have to see with our own eyes

>>9928981
Could you recommend some? And point out what I should be looking for and attempting in my writing

>>9929811
Concrete imagery and sincerity.

Concrete imagery is expressing sensual images - most easily, sight - of your theme. At its most basic, poetry centres on specific nouns affected by definitive verbs.

Eg.
Slashed instead of cut - in the context of a wound
Shaved instead of cut - in the context of a haircut

Sincerity is the belief that poetry should be both emotionally honest and free of pretence. The poet expresses the world itself. This does not mean a poet's writing is necessarily subjective or objective but is merely their personal unfiltered view of the world.

>>9920284
Noise
wall
fuzzy;
circle
repeatedly
crying.
Anger
noise
kick;
angelic
whisper
death.
Repeat.

I work at Sub Shop!

I wish to be famous!

How do you do?

>>9930994
What is the point of this? Just a collection of abstract words?

>>9928132
class. Are you from Ireland?

>>9931713
guess the genre

>>9931743
Part of my ancestry hails from there but I have English and Scottish blood as well, parents born in Australia and New Zealand.
Glad you liked it.

>>9931746
Free Verse?

>>9931791
pro tip: it's a music genre

>>9931819
My next guess would be rap but I fail to see how a collection of abstract words can evoke anything but a vague feeling. The form never justifies either abstract expression or the choice of words as it suggests a struggling with the form itself.

>>9931872
the poem is trying to describe a music genre

>>9931890
dude, just rework you poem, it shows no effort and is way too vague to do much of anything (not the other guy btw)

>>9931898
>it shows no effort and is way too vague
that's the whole fucking point

>>9931901
Then the poem expresses a disgust, a disappointment or anger at a form, or method, and seeks to correct, or remove, that form by acting as that form and has been misinterpreted by readers in this thread. So, the poem fails as a critique and contributes to the very problem that it seeks to designate and mock.

>>9931959
>implying all this fucking much
I forgot /lit/ was full of pretentious fuckers, only the author of any form of art can know what said form is expressing and is seeking
Art cannot fail or not fail, logics do not apply

>>9932119
I forgot (not really, I'm just mirroring your syntax) that 'poets' excuse their lazy, shitty 'attempts' at poetry as invulnerable, because
>Art cannot fail

fucking apply yourself or find an easier and more honest way of seeking attention

>>9932119
Each work of art is a language and in order to be translated by the viewer requires a logical syntax.

In the womb of the maid
was a babe, of coming late,
making strange and passions raged.
No doubt had he, being forgotten -- at the dip.
Left unbound, at the coming of N-wt,
As to better light the tenebrous,
And to make of its vines lasting
wines, loves, smells like cloves, linger
in perennial march,
ever-coming death
to living thought;
Ptah
lightens
reddened froth

Green turns to
Red turns to
Orange turns to dead
Falls from the sky
Down to the ground
Far from the branch
Far from a sound
And is crushed by the foot of a child
Who dreams of emotions
He’s too young to feel

Her skin is all covered in ink,
As homage to a world that toughened her up,
And she feels so badly for the children
Who are so happy,
Because one day, they will be tough,
And covered in ink,
And they will know the real pain,
That comes from having your heart broken,
Or having a needle cover you in ink,
As homage to the broken heart that toughened you up,
Or, perhaps more accurately, to the broken childhood that weakened your knees.
And she is a fool, to feel so badly, and to cover herself in ink
Over something as childish as a broken heart.

Spots upon spots.
Upon dots upon dots upon deep scarlet dots.
Upon lots of your thoughts,
All entangled in knots,
Freshly wrought from the time that you bought.
You forgot not to wonder a lot.
About all the sad things you’ve been taught.

>>9932135
I'm no poet, made that shit in 5 minutes. So, I need to apply myself before expressing my feelings? Wasn't poetry about that? Oh, nitpicking my argument to make a strawman huh? The second part of that statement is as important as the first part, which you quoted so conveniently. Let me rephrase it: art fails every time a viewer tries to find a meaning. It is bound to fail each time strangers misunderstand it; art can't fail, the author creates a world which can be only interpreted ultimately by him, making it perfect.

>>9932139
Indeed, every work of art is a language on their own, but the viewer can also translate in an emotional syntax, or not translate it at all.

A youth, I studied Buddha's teaching;
A man, I lived alone in caves.
Though demons, ghosts, and devils multiply,
I am not afraid.
The snow-lion's paws are never frozen,
Or of what use would it be
To call the lion "King"-He who has the Three Perfect Powers.
The eagle never falls down from the sky;
If so, would that not be absurd?
An iron block cannot be cracked by a stone;
If so, why refine the iron ore?
I, Milarepa, fear neither demons nor evils;
If they frightened Milarepa, to what avail
Would be his Realization and Enlightenment?
Ye ghosts and demons, enemies of the Dharma,
I welcome you today!
It is my pleasure to receive you!
I pray you, stay; do not hasten to leave;
We will discourse and play together.
Although you would be gone, stay the night;
We will pit the Black against the White Dharma,
And see who plays the best.
Before you came, you vowed to afflict me.
Shame and disgrace would follow
If you returned with this vow unfulfilled.

- Milarepa

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>>9920284
Lullaby for a Lonely Soul

Hapless wanderer
Streetlight climber
Fencepost hopper
Midnight train rider
I am the one
Who kisses the lips
Of the darkness
Who drinks from the sky
The wine of the abyss
Window smears wearing midnight
Showing life continues on
In the church candles are burning
And even after one is gone
They burn on
Melting the eyes
Of the stoic mass-goers
While God comes low
And we become lower
He lends you His ear
Obeying the beckon of the holy God-show-ers
But He does not hear
He does not hear
His hearing aid fails
Though He is so near
He misses the candles
With His cobwebbed eyes
The one who dies is forgotten
The gold on his eyes
Will not be enough
To buy him a boat
And the other souls gloat at their crossing
Crossing themselves as they stow away
Watching Death rowing
Just rowing away
A snide snicker slides
From out the sinister side
Of the mouth of the old spinster
The other side smiles
Beguiles and charms
Holding wide both arms
And at a million miles up
It seems worth your while
So take that step!
Traveler depart!
Cast of the wormy cloak
Of a mud hut heart
For cats and cradles
Do you no good
Water is poison
Thanks to wily Wormwood
The end is nigh
Fly away to the moon
High in the sky
Like the Dish and the Spoon
You are a candle
Your flame is your heart
But there are so many candles
No one will notice
When one candle departs

Appreciate any feedback.

>>9932193
if it is for YOU, keep it to yourself
if you expect OTHERS to read it, apply yourself and spend more than 5 mins or just post some dumb meme to get the replies

>>9932220
I'm Anonymous, and Anonymous read it so...

>>9932224
that comment was literally better poetry

This isn't mine, but it's a childhood favorite:

Oh there once was a puffin
in the shape of a muffin
and he lived on an island
in the bright blue sea.

And he ate little fishes
that were most delicious
and he had them for breakfast
and he had them for tea.

But the poor little puffin
he couldn't play nothin'
for he hadn't anybody
to play with at all.

Then said the fishes,
"If you wishes,
you can have us for playmates
instead of for tea."

So now they all play together
in all sorts of weather
and the puffin eats pancakes
like you and like me.

Anyone else memorize your childhood poems?

>>9932228
Thank you (｡>﹏<｡)

I have a somewhat longer poem I've been touching up. I was wondering if someone would give me a tip over a segment of imagery I'm uncertain is strong, either in language or inference?
Will offer fair advice in return.

I drink I drink, I sleep I sleep
Eyes dry like desert heat
This year there is no wreath
I cannot stand on the floor beneath

A knock on my numbered door
Legs shake and drag across the floor
He sees what's outside me and I wonder
If he knows what it's like to die of drink and hunger

I offer my last time to You
Pennance for all that we've been through
First drink I gag and chew seeds
First always tastes of burning weeds

I lay in bed and remember what it was
What exactly this room does
To take me away from all my feelings
Replaced with nothing but walls and ceiling

I think and feel nothing for years
Forced to oblivion to see my tears
On a nightly basis I drink I drink
And wonder what brought me to the brink
Into insanity

Beholden To;
How uncordial is that tether
Suspending this form
Above thee most low Cocytus

>>9932736
What is this a reference to?

>>9920532
NOFX- dinosaurs will die

Does anyone here take poetry seriously, or is it all just a whimsical, fleeting notion most of you toy with until you realize it's hard? I'm really at the point of dropping this board for a different site, even though I know there a few good writers out here. Would love to see legit discussion and advice being passed around. But it's beyond rare.

>>9933659
What do you want to talk about? What's a technique you've been practicing? What contemp have you been reading? Favorite poetry magazine?

>>9933708
>What do you want to talk about?
Technique, primarily. I've gotten down free verse, and I'd like to discuss methods people use to develop strictly metered poetry since I struggle at times. Also methods used for imagery, and how others determine if an image isn't beyond grasp or simply poor.

>What's a technique you've been practicing?
I've been combining forms, and working on longer pieces with repetitive imagery and varied rhyme, and in free verse. My last piece was a take on a ghazal in tetrameteric couplets (four pairs of two) in 'quatrains'. Turned out pretty good format wise.

>What contemp have you been reading?
Not much. I enjoy the well established poets. The few modern pieces I've read tend to be meandering without really arriving anywhere after a hundred words, and continue for hundreds more. I've heard someone describe this as 'patient' but it's not. The Divine Comedy is patient.
This is not to say I'm not confident in contemporary works, I'd love to find some I enjoy. But this coagulated postmodern academia has clotted poetry's arteries imo.

>Favorite poetry magazine?
I visit Poetry Foundation often--they have a great library and I find some modern works published there I don't mind.

>>9933765
Well, shit. I'm patient/ghazal guy.

I can help you with meter, but a an active disinterest in contemporary writing is just gonna slow your learning down, man.

And Dante meanders like crazy.

>>9933826
As I said, it is not active, but passive. It is stylistic differences, and this does not hinder growth nor conversation. Like Louis CK is a comic's comic, you enjoy poet's poetry; whereas I enjoy poetry. Nothing wrong with either, but there is a genre difference between poetry stuffed with allusion and reference, and poetry of raw symbolism and metaphor. Neither is wrong, and perhaps should you not discredit this mindset--as I haven't yours--you may shine a new light in my eyes.

>>9933708
I require you here to return the line of questioning. Give me your side of the coin.

>>9933826
Also, there is a large difference between meandering and arcing. Dante arcs.

>>9933826
And still I'd love to hear your advice on meter, and what works best for you to achieve acute word choice within rigid meter. I can usually knock out a stanza with tight meter but then I'll either struggle to contain the desired imagery of maintain the proper meter. My biggest problem comes from thinking a word or syllable is stressed or not at the time of writing, but then going over in edit and it being the opposite.

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>>9933853
>What do you want to talk about?
the technique I'm trying to create here >>9923746 and better ways to make it obvious without explaining the form (or having a garish key like parentheses)
Also, the possibility of true non-linearity (not just choice) in poetry

>What's a technique you've been practicing?
Ghazals and >>9926218

>What contemp have you been reading?
Boruch as you know, David Bottoms, and bout to sink my teeth in Andrew Hudgins

>Favorite poetry magazine?
Poetry and Rattles are the only two I've read enough of. Measure looks cool though.

I don't discredit the classics of the mindset preferring more straightforward to the complex poetics of contemps like Chakraborty or Boruch, but understanding and developing a (reading) relationship with these writers will help you.

Dante may arc, but there are some pretty pointless digressions in Inferno.

>what works best for you to achieve acute word choice within rigid meter

Reading my stuff out loud and seeing what I'm inclined to say, finding metrical substitions I can set patterns up with

Just write like a million Shakespearean Sonnets with emphasis on the volta, and you'll eventually get more comfy with Iambic (you'll have to get back to me on dactyls/anapestic)

pic-related is one of my more serious efforts that might give you an Idea about where I write from (which could influence how you value my input) the structure is heavily influenced by Robert Duncan

>>9933950
>non-linearity
By this do you mean you're trying to create a work which reads linearly yet is shuffled out of time? Or do you mean it to be read sporadically and randomly while still being coherent? Or do you mean to just have the spacing develop an effect akin to a meter of rests?
I admire the effort. You poem here >>9926218 is good, though I'm still uncertain of your stylistic intention there; i.e. how it's stylistic form aids or contributes to my reading and interpretation of it, compared to if it had no stylization.
I enjoy your imagery and language, I'm just uncertain how to interpret your literal imagery of style, and that uncertainty is what's hurts them, imo--though that could just be a matter of my own over-analytic tendencies.
Even in >>9933950, I follow it all enough well up til you get to the spaces. By then, I'm uncertain what the effect is meant to bring after I've read it. I understand the imagery, and the idea behind it. But the spacing is just that to me.
---
I'll have to check out those other names you've shared then. I'd love to find a more modern work which clicks with me, and which focus less on trite politics and more the human condition.

It's funny, I've been naturally drifting to the Ode lately, though I haven't completed one I'm happy with yet. Problem is I have a hard time banging out any old poem, because I'll drop a piece even after a hundred words if I feel it's uninspired. Poetry for me is the spotting a rare creature and my attempt to coax it into full view from its camouflage, if that makes sense. Still good advice though, and I'll try out a few sonnets.

want to write haiku
got no idea
go back writing on
my diary desu

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>>9933950
I have a very old poem I wrote, one of my firsts, which has some stylistic imagery. I realize it is my own piece, but I'm also confident that I use image of form fairly clearly. Could you compare what you're doing against what I tried?
as I said, the pic is old; nothing I'm looking for any sort of input on. it's just an example, and a point of understanding

>>9934091
Young, soft tufts of fur
Litter of baby rabbits
Splat! Broken mower

>>9934110
clouds of meadowy structures
the sheep are drifting
dream´s over!

>>9934134
Moonlight cased in black
Hanging high and swimming low
Neither here nor there

No blood from a stoney
leave me aloney
with my baloney
and all my money

>>9934139
the sun that showers gold
and corona flackers wild
like hair in the wind

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>>9934100
>>9934100
Mine is a *little* less concrete as far as the spaces are concerned, but most of my structural choices fulfill (or try to) a grammatical role as well, which may have be pretty intuitive for the small spaces.

sometimes (>>9923746)
the structure is just an attempt at clearly organizing things in a way to ease the reading, but sometimes (pic-related) I use it to deliberately bewilder (this is the closest to the non-linearity I'm interested in)

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BUDDHA

Siddhartha, the Buddha, the master of renunciation;
The king with the immensity of the mind as his kingdom;
The knight who tames the tempest and electric fire of the neurons,
And, with thought as his vassal, visits truth without any fear,
And walks over the clouds, and walks upon the slime of the abyss.
Siddhartha, the emperor who has a beating magnolia
- Tumid and juicy with the sap of empathy and complacency -
As his heart.
Siddhartha, the prince of the sweet features,
Features that kiss and caress the soul of those who contemplate him,
Making them glimpse the beehives of emotional gold
That are nested beyond his retinas,
The treasures that breathe behind his eyelids.
Siddhartha, a man of bones and skin and blood,
Siddhartha, a homo sapiens, a primate, a naked and biped monkey
That, with a warm and gentle smile,
Carries the whole cosmos on his flesh;
Siddhartha, the Buddha
Compassion itself condensed in human form,
The human form when sculpted in a diamond.

>>9934160
Water falls down low
Screams then trickling in streams
Salmon swim up high

>>9934193
Siddharta was the name of the man before Buddha became enlightened, or at leas, that man is more commonly referred to as Siddharta. Siddharta was a prince of the Sakya, and the prophecy said he was to become a cakravartin. Siddharta is no more when he leaves the kingdom to become an ascetic.
All of this, unless of course, you are referring to the Siddharta of Hesse.

>>9933359
Necessary betrayal

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Ran out of booze and too drunk for xanax. Might as well...

How do I into poetry? Where should I start if my only serious exposures to literature are House of Leaves, James Joyce, and Lydia Davis?

Taxation is theft.

>>9935133
Don't force a rhyme. It doesn't have to rhyme.

All flowers will scatter, no matter how fragrant
As naught in this world can remain unchanging
Today, we will cross the deep mountains of vainglory
Whilst not being intoxicated by shallow dreams

>>9936443
Being fragrant has nothing to do with stopping something to scatter.
There's no correlation between scattering and fragrance.

A bee is drawn to a flower-
a moth is drawn to a flame.
As we approach the witching hour
I only hope to feel the same.

The pollen sits in perfect swells-
the light reflects off everything.
From scent alone the bee can tell
there's nothing in that brightening.

Look at me
I'm here, I exist
Please look at me

Roses are red, my ball are blue
Women are pink, but their poo is brown too
My envy is green, why did you pick him?
I read all these books, shoulda been at the gym.

Drink my piss, gulp it deep
In your belly, let my water keep
Inhale my farts, breath them in
Expand your lungs with my anal wind
You are a toilet

Thee could be compared to a rasher of bacon. Such succulent nectar that fills thine belly but after you have taken leave and only salty after-taste remains most insatiable thirst takes hold. I want to grow fat on you, my bacon bride.

>>9933659
I take poetry very seriously

People here take a crack at it simply because on can potentially finish a poem in a shorter amount of time

Not many people here would be able to write in meter nor successfully identify it

When I left the harbour,
your waves were calm
And crowds cheered me to new lands.
The sounds of timber were welcome,
They pushed on the waves and the waves pushed back.
Pushing me away from familiar sands.

But now you are colder
And you soak me through.
Once in the hull I yearn for my home.
Where am I sailing?
No wind seems favourable.
I’ve become scared of that wooden groan

You have carried me far;
from that solid ground.
Terra firma is long gone now.
Your depths do not interest me,
no wonders exist down there,
I think to myself as I stand on the bow.

I’m sure there’ll be others;
who look out like me.
And want to make stories - escaping their towns,
But I know you so well now,
and my country is lost to me.
Yet I don’t wish to drown.
I don’t wish to drown.

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>>9921107

>>9920693
I like the first two stanzas but the third just doesn't work for me for some reason. I like the drink dry line.

>>9921043
Fool. Do you not understand you are passionate about your degeneracy, your inability, and your otherwise lack of inspiration?

>>9920284
Beloved Isabella, morningstar and eveningstar, blessed
among travellers and thresholds, patroness
of all that's within reach, held in hand
and clenched against the breast
Isabella, Oriflamme, ascend and rally our routed wit
and break the siege on our beleaguered spirit.

>>9934969
Not too bad man

rönnbären nickar över svikna bröder

>>9935133
>>9936432
Don't force rhyme, but don't force meter either.

Basically, poetry is music. Between stresses and phonetics, repetitions are established which allow for rhythms to be attained. Trochees in tetrametric quatrains are in essence a 4:4 time signature. Iambic in tetra-quats is 4:4 on the down beat. When you force meter, you're locking in a static rhythm. There is nothing wrong with this, and is very accessible and may allow for complex rhythms to be set around the meter using phonetic tones.
But dipping into phonetics then, you realize time and rhythm may be kept more loosely than pure metrics. Writing a poem, still, in tetrametric quatrains has 16 beats per measure, so to speak. Where iambic emphasizes quarter notes, writing in free verse using end rhymes is akin to emphasizing whole notes. Free verse is basically like free-form jazz or prog where strict meter is more like pop or classical.

Either allow for all sorts of fun little tricks or rigid, emotional movements to be interwoven. It's not about forcing anything, it's about how the music comes to you; and capturing it in its essence. Imo, each are difficult to be mastered. Strict meter is obvious how it's hard. Free verse is easy to be sporadic and inconsistent; but once you understand how to weave your phonetics and dip in and out of metric form with control, one can craft some interesting and wonderful pieces. It's all about finding that center.

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>>9920902
>envelop me in cellophane
>drive pike through membrane

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>>9936737

>>9937785
what did he mean by this?

>>9936455
>he doesnt know
色は匂へど散りぬるを
我が世誰ぞ常ならん
有為の奥山今日越えて
浅き夢見じ酔ひもせず

>>9920288
Bad poem, decent lyrics

>>9920532
Impressively bad

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>>9920583

>Roses are red
>Violets are blue
>There is no other board
>As pretentious as /mu/

>>9920284
A shit lands
On top of
Another shit

>roses have been blue in the past
>when dyed with blue #40
>don't quote me on that
>ayo what it do shawty

>>9934181
I know many hold this as a meme, but it genuinely is a good poem, even if unorthodox. There's good musicality, there's nice images, there's a progression even if you didn't intend there to be one.

Good job, honestly.

>>9939212
>there's a progression even if you didn't intend there to be one.

That's exactly what I don't get from it, and why--though I want to like it--I don't like it. I tried to just wander down the poem with a general 'sense of direction' and hit the (yh wh) line and everything disintegrates because it's means nothing to be, even through implication.
So then I try and just bounce around, thinking I was being timid. But essentially the same effect happens, but this time it's because I can tell there is some general direction of the images.
So still, believing I should then try accelerating with direction instead of randomly, I again read over this--I actually I have few images memorized now. I glace over clusters, and take keywords or phrases before darting off in 'direction'. But again, the phrases become too disjointed, and the larger picture collapses.

And if any of that was the 'point', then it's just not for me. Not being a dick; like I said, I want to believe that crazy thing has a few threads that actually reach from top to floor.

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So quick I am to turn a page,
For I yearn my stories ending.
Will the cast of characters rest?
Will I create peace for myself
Or succumb to the long absence?

I have seen my fair share of sights
Beautiful women at night
Blinding blue waves vastly stretching.
Lo, for it all seems the same now.

This story will cease soon enough
To have it's name engraved in time.
One can only imagine now
All the fulfilled dreams and mistakes.
I only pray for a proper end.

Always itching in the heat
There's a bald man that's desperately hungry
Whiskers growing bag of meat
A toiling slave that's thirsty and angry
And frustrated. Forever.

>>9927926
Anon, se ainda tiver na thread pra mim o som austero no primeiro verso tira todo o drama dos últimos dois versos, e a imagem como um todo perde muita força, IMO. Eles seriam dolorosamente bons sem a manchete no primeiro, sabe?

Mas no todo eu gostei.

>>9936922
Shit was absolutely cash bro
Lines I'd work on: the waves line in the first stanza, seems too long; picking a more concise image for favorable winds in the second; remove the "down" in the second to last verse on the third since it's clear enough we're in the depths at this point; and the fourth as a whole could use more screw-tightening (like "my country lost to me" or "my home lost to me", or "wanting to make stories - escaping their sins" so as to evoke a definite constricting feeling as the poem ends in the drowning), as well as a slightly more despairing tone as it goes on overall.
But this is really solid. Would love seeing more of your work.

>>9939212
thanks man, I hope to eventually see through to updating it (I think I can make it a good bit better)

>>9940001
In my months of memeing this, this is the 2nd time in total someone has actually offered a critique (everyone either seems to like it, which is great or want me to kill myself, which is great). Thanks, man. Thematic connections at that stage in my writing were often assumed by me as opposed to the clearer constructions I tend to have now. I owe a great deal of that to practicing sonnets, because it forced me to stick with something (how can you have a 'turn' if you don't have a continuous line?). I hope to address your concerns while keeping some of what seems to frustrate you. I think that feeling is worthwhile if there is a payoff.

On another note, any tips on poets that regard the male image in that sort of pastoral "muse"-like vibe? I've been wondering if this sentiment is even possible to grasp at and attain when you have a male as your source of inspiration instead of a female, but since I'm just getting into poetry yet thought this an interesting idea I might even try to play around with it if I can find something to start me off.

>>9940180
Past couple of months my dad's been basically the reason I'm writing. Got like 20 poems about him directly or tangentially

Protesilaus

Sure as my spear and shield there is the tide
Carrying along all that man has sowed
No good or wicked man escapes this ride
Fate has shown us the way onto the Troad

Wind whips, sand scrapes, I solely walk the foam
As I see crests rising upon the hill
I show no fear as I will die at home
Fate may know this but I know how to kill

Salt the bodies in the sand where they fall
Four poor babes used like fodder for a song
They may be remembered in family halls
But waves pull us all down before too long

I fall and look into my killer's eyes
Paths of glory always end in demise

>>9940190
Didn't think to go on that way, the muse in a familial light instead of a romantic one, thank you! If you're so inclined, I'd love to see any work of yours that you'd feel good sharing.

Since I was thinking in a romantic tone I was trying to grasp if trying to work with a male figure would be able to evoke identification and projection in the same way we try to attain when, for example, you write poems for a girl you like (as I just saw another anon on some other thread saying). If a girl would offer me a poem with that sentiment in mind I'd have absolutely no idea what to do with it (which is what I'm thinking to start things off with, actually), yet I can easily picture it when the roles are reversed, seeing as we have that image so much more frequently portrayed in media.

>>9940173
Me too. And the only payoff I desire is a complete structure. Even if it's a flimsy house of cards such as that poem.

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>>9940254
at the risk of spamming this thread with my shit, I can show you the 2/2. It's not perfect, but attempts closure.

>>9940249
>I'd love to see any work of yours that you'd feel good sharing.

Papa hated it when I called
him dad. He’d say, “You ain’t got no daddy, boy!
You got a Papa!” He always wanted this:
a son that drank on his four-wheeler
and loved confederate symbolism.
I cannot give him this; I cannot
nail that fish to the post, Papa;
he’s gasping in my hand, Papa;
it ain’t like when we killed lightning bugs
and smeared their glory on our skin,
although it made me feel like a sun, then.

I’ve got to let go of how you drank yourself
to death, Papa. It ain’t like when I hung up
God on that cross. I can’t keep
nailing you to that post.

probs my best one

As for the romantic, thing. Do you like dicks? If so, write about why you like dicks. Its honestly that simple. If you don't, you gonna have to work on your empathy. Learn to place yourself in place of someone absolutely enamored with the dude you're focusing on. Just don't be surprised if you like dicks more afterward.

Ok here goes, english is my third language so unavoidably problems arise on vocabulary but its a saturday morning improv time:


UUhghg woken,

woke as fuck,

tuck in the tummy its time to drive,

mountains and the hunters that grace o,

"do you like to fish?" -oh such a shame,

and of these cloudclad townscapes arises the stench of the middle man,

hoping to get the most out of things,

overpriced groceries shitty frozen fish,

swinging, ye, oh the road leads to barbarian lapplandish lands,

at the border back again,

1l,3l and another six boxes of beer,

did you see the sheep shitting on the road?-why

to do a dime, your dollars are mine,

Think again, bacon my friend,

t-shirt packed in wishing for a summer again,

thank you come again,

a ten dollar omelette, what could ever go wrong.

>>9940273
That Papa poem is solid

>>9934181
Were you the one who wrote that "Waiting for god as patient as a tree" poem in another poetry thread once

>>9940318
Yup, that one has been tinkered with, but I still have trouble making a compelling villanelle.

>>9934181
>>9940273
this is literally all that I want out of poetry. whoever you are I adore you.
Which poets are your favorites? What are your influences?

>>9940332
>>9940332
I'm obsessed with H.D. and Eliot (modernism in general, but they're my bigs)
I love Blake, but find it hard to take from him without sounding silly.
Marianne Boruch is a contemp I've been liking a lot.

I have a friend that has some really, really crazy shit going on in his work, but I'm worried he doesn't care much for publishing (he should be anthologized) We borrow techniques from each other pretty liberally.

>>9940363
I've been getting heavily into Eliot lately as well, and Pound.
Are you published anywhere or do you post your poems anywhere besides here?
Either way, keep up the good work man. You are exactly what poetry needs nowadays.

>>9940391
Well, I'll shill anyone to H.D. if I can. She fucked Pound and then wrote the best Modernist epic available imo.

I'm currently working on publishing. Got a few piece that look like they'll catch a home. I have a reddit where I seek crits on OCpoetry as well.

>>9940273
Shit this was really good. Thanks a lot man.

As to your comment, I tried going the empathic route with this to at least grasp at the sentiment before heading off for the day. While I think the female imagery bits show some promise when I turn it back to the male and present time I fucked it up. Dunno if it's worth keep working at this one since I for sure need to read more, or trying to grasp it from the female view from start to finish.

"Take these now! Go on, be quick!"
Gentle hands fidget with glee
"Read and tell me what you think!"
Scrawled above them all 'On Thee'

Longing verses of a tree
Filtered light upon her arms
The wind brushing on her back
It reminds her of my eyes

Subtle bodies of the night
Liven her gaze of the leaves
My gale tangling her hair
And my smile her twilight

A hole opens up inside me
The void swirling to my tongue
What the hell is this girl thinking
Trying to sew me undone?

All these papers have a theme
Nature, longing, and her gleam
Of a wondrous experience
Of the man inside her mind

As she runs off in the light
I despair and take them in
What in hell has touched her wits so
To write poems about me?

>>9940273
>let us go then you and i
The lovesong of Alfred J. Prufrock?

English is my second language but I like it better for poetry

The Girl From My Dreams

She took me dreaming in waking hours.
Insomnolence became better than rest,
and she was fire that outshone the sun.
Then we turned to embers, and it was good.

Soon she left for home and took our dreams too.
I had to come to her to get my fix.
She would bring them to me sometimes as well.
We persisted as transient embers.

But whenever we left one another,
the dreams would subside and then disappear.
And I got used to being empty without her,
but never to her tears

I cheered her up with letters and promises of hugs,
but the tears would never stop for more than a couple of days.
And we continued to meet just once a month,
and one day we sat in a restaurant together and I looked in her eyes
and saw nothing.

That was the last time we were together
since i discovered that her tears had drowned me as well
and her letters are still in the dark of my bottom drawer, in a small white creased carton box, I sometimes take out to look at but don't open,
and I put it back and go to sleep and dream of her still.

>>9940451
The last line is great, but a lot of your images are commonplace, which may seem at first as a way of being universal, but it just weakens the pieces. If the subject of her adoration is you. Pick out parts of yourself that are distinguishable. Make this about yourself as much as her. Insult your body, question it, admire it.

>>9941180
Yeah, like I said, I'm obsessed with Eliot.

>>9940108
Não entendi bem o que você quis dizer. O primeiro verso está muito austero e quebra a emoção? Ou a palavra "austero", no terceiro verso, que o faz? Anyway, aqui vai outro poema

Não hão lágrimas
No vergonhoso funeral deste miserável!
É o visitante inesperado,
É a desgostosa presença não antecipada!

Chama-se alegria - nota o nome!
Procurei-o por toda a vida,
Nos becos e vielas e em todo caminho obscuro
E até pelo inferno eu me venturo!

Vi-o somente em sonhos,
Visões e anelos baldados.
Tinha nele meu alvo final
Era por ele que vivia, fugaz animal!

Mas hoje, enfim, vejo
Que esta tão rara e fúlgida jóia
Morreu! E não ouso lágrima verter
Por quem por mim nunca verteu.

>>9924667
Best poem ITT

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>>9942211

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>>9942223

>>9942291
This one is quite good.

>>9942446
Thanks anon

>>9940451
Really liked this one. The fourth stanza was specially good.

>>9942112
A palavra austero acaba convidando a ambiguidade na voz da esperança desde o começo, daí o final acabar não sendo tão surpreendente ou doloroso, mas é só minha opinião sobre uma maneira de fazer a progressão do sentimento.

Esse segundo poema tá muito bom.

>>9942291
I liked this one desu
Good one anon

>>9920284
Certainty is a flash,
fearful and fleeting.
My heart is in my mouth,
yet I dare not speak from it.
Sun-lit skin, a petal in the wind.
Your silence is deafening
yet somehow, I win

Just got into trying to write poetry very recently, not the most well-informed on how to do so, I'd welcome some feedback

>>9942291
Really nice anon,
do you have a blog anywhere that you post your writing at all?

i am a bleuberry
that takes the shackles of the fish
and constructs the suns design
into a prism with my overreaching mouth
and within i find the sunset, opening up
to let me in

>>9942587
Obrigado, você tem razão. Vou mudar a palavra

>>9942552
Thank you, really. English is not my first language but for some reason poetry flows better for me in this way.

I've been trying to rework the imagery the female uses but in my head it's all so surprising to the male that the effect ends up being him glossing over whatever she ends up giving him since the reference is to him so obvious that he finds himself dumbfounded. Then I thought about doing a part 2 where it's unclear whether it's really about him or the female is trying to capture a random male figure in a muse-like imagery and had a hearty lol over his confused blundering and ambiguous feelings towards the girl. Might try my hand at going the route >>9941690 pointed out.

>>9942658
No, I don't have a blog. I never considered my body of work large enough to merit having a proper collection. Maybe I'll start one though

>>9942872
fair enough, yeah you've got definite talent, keep it up

>>9942931
https://vobbster.tumblr.com
Here you go anon

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>>9920284
might be unfinished but try this lads

i'm not usually a poet so be kind

>>9920459
put me in the screenshot

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>>9920284
Whitey, whitey, whatchu doin?
Why yo appropriate ma shit?
Whitey, whitey we wuz rulin!
An yo lived in som caveman pit!

Whitey, whitey, bitchass cracka!
Yo stole all ma technology!
Whitey, whitey, we will crack ya
with da tru egyptology!

>>9942793
Espero que tenha ajudado anon.

Aqui vai um meu, sem métrica alguma (Sorry):

Campo branco, grama úmida
A flor de meu despertar
Encontra-se com o arbusto
Que persiste em se entranhar
Em minha sombra

Tuas folhas amarelas
Parecem secas ao olhar
Mas enquanto me aproximo
O perfume dos botões exala
E me aquiesce

O calor é trazido pela brisa,
E a divisa frouxa das copas
Nos protege do dia quente
Mas me encerra ao teu lado
Prendendo

Um desejo do qual só queria estar livre
Na minha carne que almeja
O toque dos teus dedos, nas mãos
O riso que incendeia teu rosto
E o meu ser

Ao aperto insensível
De meu peito eu me viro
Com ele eu concordo, é fato
O arbusto me abraça, e eu suspiro

Mas só sinto os meus espinhos.

>>9943009
Esse poema é lindo! Parabéns, você conseguiu invocar imagens e sentimentos de maneira sublime, mergulhando o leitor na ideia do poema. Um grande conflito, uma grande ansiedade, ambos abençoados com a beleza da paixão. Está muito bom mesmo. Minha única dica é: tente acrescente algumas rimas, elas aumentariam o efeito total do poema.

Eu nunca tentei escrever com métrica. Não acho que seja necessário

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>>9942974
actually have this one too

>>9938520
>music lyrics are poetry
theres no elitism in poetry faggot

>>9943029
Obrigada! É difícil me dissuadir da ideia de que a métrica é essencial a um bom poema pois por muitos anos me foquei nesse estudo (embora hoje em dia minhas análises sempre me foquem nas imagens), mas os exercícios de verso livre vem sendo muito bons pra não deixar o eu lírico esfriar demais nos dias em que posso escrever, inclusive pra prosa.

Irei ler mais pra ter um insight melhor sobre rimas pros próximos, agradeço muito pela dica!

>>9920480

>ah

holy shit your brain dead ego is showing

>>9920532


I hate my lust for women
I hate my fellow men
I hate you for writing,
such a horrible fucking mess

D'une tiède enveloppe l'étreinte moelleuse
Recouvre de ses membres la masse engourdie
Et recèle en son sein, roses dattes rieuses,
Deux bourgeons que je cueilles au fond de leur oubli.

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>>9920284
Well @realDonaldTrump, at least I will go down as a president!

Ooga booga if if if uhh uhh ahh ahh if if if

Okie doke!

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>>9943105
Eu não tenho muito o que dizer sobre métrica, já que como eu disse nunca usei, mas acho que ela é algo muito avançado, ela garante ao poema nuances muito sutis que passam quase imperceptíveis. Eu só irei usar métrica quando tiver uma ideia muito boa e quiser criar o poema perfeito, senão não a usarei. Um exemplo é Fausto, onde em algumas partes o Poeta quebra ou altera a métrica para criar um efeito caótico. Só fui perceber isso quando li a edição da Editora 34, que acompanha notas. Concordo, é importante, mas nem tanto.

Aliás, poderia me recomendar algum livro ou site onde eu possa estudar mais sobre poesia? Nunca cheguei a realmente estudá-la, todas as minhas ideias e inspirações vem dos poetas que leio, então o que conheço é só o sentimento e não o esquema por trás dele.

Gostaria de ler mais de seus poemas. Enquanto isso, aqui vai mais um meu. Escrevo poemas toda vez que tenho um sentimento forte sobre algo, então não me falta composições pra postar aqui. Gostaria de alguns conselhos sobre onde melhorar.

"Abdiquei-me do viver!" diz o miserável,
O homem a quem a alegria tornou-se dor
A quem a mágoa é amiga inseparável,
E única verdade do sepulcral furor.

"Viver é sofrer", exclama entristecido.
Enquanto erra, entre sepulturas
Haurindo lágrimas, desperado
Como homem ao inferno condenado!

E no clamor soturno de seu choro
Vê-se o fulgor da beleza terrena
E o esplendor do divino decoro.

Há na dor de cada sofredor
Uma flor tenaz, bela, rubra
Que arde, tão singular nesse oceano de ardor!

I do enjoy it when it rains
I stay home and warm my feet
Sweet petrichor fills my lungs
Instead of steaming shit

literally my first poem please be gentle

>>9943197
My cock is hard
Your poem's shit
I dump a tard
On your poem

>>9943197
It's not bad! The image is quite common, but it is a nice sentiment.

Try to expand on what saying home is and how the warmth feels in contrast to whatever you'd be doing if you were with the steaming shit, for example.

I go around, I go around
I always go around
When will I come aground?

Grizzly bears and polka dots
Fudge and chocolate
Eerie mist and polka dots
Growling bear
Poem a a a
Coolade

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Uhhh, look at me I'm a massive faggot!

Uhhhhhhh, seize the means of production!

>>9943137
hahahaha this is even more ironic now. first obama gets BTFO, now trump gets BTFO by probably going down as the worst president in US history

Pull the rope from eye to chest
Like needles from point to end, always
Raking till the last bloody breath

Help

The partial ear stares.
A brick strikes.
Why won't the fallen angel camp around
the compound?
The snobbery chars the fallen angel.
The pun paces after the separator!
The fallen angel ruins the nigger underneath the cumbersome war.

>>9942654
"Sun-lit" seems out of place.

Otherwise, I like the poem quite a bit.

A very fat friend of mine
When asked "what time do you dine?"
Responded, "Let's see...
...seven, eight, ten, and three...
five, six, and quarter past nine".

Part of the lyrics I wrote..

The line was caught shoving minds away
Alerted by the warnings displayed
Connecting shards of thought revoked
To interfere is to be dispatched
And blinding signals will come for you
Speeding through a lens of contrast
Only a true dead end can turn this around
What could have happened?
An endless sight of city blocks
Aligning in the background scene
The blue and bright come in the play
Joined by the screams of sound decay
Observing...
Collectively awaiting...
Hearsay is left unanswered
The worst has happened.

Two scared souls
Two lonely souls
Wandering about a ruinous plane
Getting hurt on the souls
That have spikes for hearts
And flails for hands
Their shield is fear
Their sword is indifference
Their armor is passion
Their feet always moving
Never to see that
Their other half is
Wandering about a ruinous plan
Two lonely souls
Two scared souls

>>9943124
>ten years late
at least i'm not literally retarded

>>9942223
fuck, I dig this a lot
the only problem is on 7th verse
>en,veloping
>veloping
it'd be way better if veloping was an actual word

>>9930994
pt. 2
insatiable waves fill the air
as I repent my mistakes
don't take it
seriously;
stagnate lake,
fetid pool
don't take it,
fool

>>9943750
Well every line is 4 syllables (except for one which is 5). So if I did that it would break the meter. Also notice the word "enveloping" literally envelops the comma. So it has a purpose.

>>9943750
Literally never give advice on poetry again.

>>9942223
Oh, and great poem btw. Simple yet very clever in style. Picked up just fine on what you were doing with enveloping before reading that other comment. I mean, you established the style right away, and that device was near the end. No excuses for that other poster.

>>9943965
Ah thanks Anon. Mind if I ask What other devices you noticed?

Nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga
I'm 100% nigga
Nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga
I'm 200% nigga
Nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga
Why do police hate niggas?
Nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga
They hate us 'cause our dicks is bigga

Nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga
Why you call yourself a nigga?
Nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga
'Cause I'm a motherfucking nigga!
Nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga
Why you drink so much beer?
Nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga
I don't drink beer, I drink malt liquor

'Cause I'm a nigga!
I'm a motherfuckin' nigga man, I ain't all that African-American shit
Fuck that I'm a nigga, I ain't mixed I'm a nigga
N-I-G-G-A, nigga, you already know

Nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga
Why you eat so much chicken?
Nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga
Why won't you make it in my kitchen?
Nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga
Why you call them hoes bitches?
Nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga
'Cause them hoes is bitches!

Nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga
Why you stay in the hood?
Nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga
'Cause I don't like livin' by Peckerwoods
Nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga
Why you ain't got no job?
Nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga
Seven dollars all won't feed me, dog

Nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga
Why yo' pants gotta sag?
Nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga
'Cause hand-me-downs is all a nigga has!
Nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga
Why you scared to go to court?
Shit, 'cause the judge look just like that motherfucker
Put our ass on the boat and made me a nigga

I laid in my room,
When a fly appeared;
and I caught it -
With my bare hands.

It fell on down,
And buzzed around;
As if it was in a trance.

It buzzed round, and around,
The wooden floored sea;
Its incessant buzzing,
Had got me to cussing;
I put it out of its misery.

'Twas sad as sad could be.

I thought of the albatross,
and the snake;
And the evil choices,
That men hath make.

It lay there dead,
And motionless on the floor;
There was nothing to be done-
Anymore.

Did I give him another chance,
Did I do a favor for him?
But who gave us that power,
are we their gods?

Just because of our frame?

>>9943167
O que costumava fazer era ler os autores que já me interessavam com análises comentadas de seus estilos, e aí livros que falavam sobre o estilo como um todo (autores do barroco, parnasianismo e modernismo eram meus preferidos à época) já me eram suficientes. Tente ver que autores são particularmente caros à você e faça essa leitura acompanhada com um guia de análise, é bem interessante.

Sobre mais poemas, venho pensando em colocá-los num Tumblr como o outro anon quando houverem, mas infelizmente os da época já estão perdidos há pelo menos 2 mudanças de casa. Venho tentando retomar o hábito há pouco mais de um mês, mas me concentrando na prosa que é onde já definitivamente escrevi bastante. No geral também escrevo quando sou tomada por emoções fortes, mas em estado de poesia só quando a prosa não dá conta.

Se você tiver um tumblr ou blog onde coloque seus poemas adoraria continuar acompanhando-os e talvez criar coragem de postar os meus. Seu estilo me lembra o do Gregório de Matos, e sempre gostei muito dele! Especialmente devido aos vocábulos.

Down the river drifts an axe
From the town of Byron
Let it float by itself -
Fucking piece of iron!

I am coughing
My coffee is cold
Coughing into the coffee
It's a bitter winter

>>9944849
Bukowski-esque, i quite like it

>>9940163

Cheers dude, this was my first real attempt at poetry.

As far as other work goes, this is going in a card for my girlfriend's birthday tomorrow.

If I could sculpt, then sculpt I could
and sculpt your beauty in marble white.
Or as a painter, before me you stood.
I'd commit to canvas that glorious sight.
I can not write, but if I try
I'll write about all the little things -
you do that make me want to cry
those tears of happiness you bring.

Yet all this art takes sacrifice
the marble broke, the canvas dyed.
The ink upon the paper dries -
I'd look upon my work with pride.
But your perfection outdoes such artistry,
so a waste of work those lies would be.

>>9945087
not the guy who replied to you originally but thats some of the nicest romantic poetry I've read in a long time

>>9945114

Thank you, Now that im reading it back to myself properly I think im gonna change that third "sculpt" to "shape" so that i'm not repeating myself so much

>>9945087
Anon that replied to you, this is gorgeous! Double cash bro. It''s really open and a lovely feeling of reverence and resignation to what she does to you. Hoping it brings her joy.

>>9945087
This is really nice, but imperfect. A few lines have too many syllables, which makes them sound cramped. Lines 2, 4, 6 (lose 'all') and 13 are the biggest offenders here.

I think you might consider changing the second 'could' in line 1 to 'would'. That's okay though - a bigger problem is line 3, which is imprecise. It sounds like you're suggesting that your lover is a painter, since they are the active subject of the clause after the comma.

Really nice work. Just needs altering.

>>9943937
>>9945796
counting syllables is retarded

>>9945805
it's dumb to obsessively make each line have the exact same number of lines for no other reason than that, yes. but, in certain types of poetry, a gap in the syllable count between two lines CAN make lines feel cramped and arrythmic, as it does in the lines I specified. it's important to give the words space to breathe.

>>9945813
How do I into counting syllables for better poems? Specifically verses made for lyrics.