Thoughts, please, on these two works.
First one I decided on 8 syllables per line with an iambic meter. I figure 4 stanzas work with the 8 syllables aspect. A few lines I'm not jazzed about, but had to sacrifice to fit them within the self-imposed limits.
Second on was more just stream of consciousness. No attempts at rhyming or structure in it, just trying to evoke a feeling. Don't know if I want to make it a bit longer, scrap it, or what.


Never there was a sweeter name
from which on angels' lips did soar.
My heart, she lays eternal claim,
slave to beautiful Eleanor.

Never there's been a greater muse
from whom no man could ask for more.
All the world I could stand to lose;
all 'cept belov-ed Eleanor.

A smile which shines through to my soul,
pierces the dark within my core.
Distance, I gladly pay as toll
to grow closer to Eleanor.

Longing for her can no-thing slake,
enchanted by her artful lure.
Broken dam sets free a strained lake -
such is my love for one Eleanor.
____________________________________

this long minute before the dawn
when night casts its darkest shadow.
with bated breath the rooster waits,
but still no light reaches out.

the air knows the calm and the white
clouds can gaze over and past the horizon,
yet for all the critters that lay in the grass
and sleep in the trees, silence is all they see.

long stretches this arc of quiet healing
yet longer still is my patience
for the beat of my heart outpaces
the seconds, which fall forever

the cows in the field
their heads descend
to feed on growing herbage

a morning without you
and the scene seen through
the car window
with my soul crying
on the road
rolling

sleeping dogs
may look somewhat similar
to dead lions
save for occasional stretch or
latent bark
on the part of the sleeping

engaging in
sun talk
is overly dull
red wine drunk
and going for a walk

a morning with you
and the absence of her
with my heart flying
in the sky
soaring

this is
the earth
is not a cold dead place

Off, down to the wellspring,
where things graze, dignified
and tall. Movement here is
only suggested, small things
leap through the grass, the
water, and larger things
trod. There is a bike lane on
which we walk, bells
ring and overtakes occur.
We are walking our dog thusly:
I keep the dog to my
left, so bikers do not find it
easy to mount an attack.
He says things to me
I shan’t dare repeat here.
I won’t.
He couldn’t know how deep
his words went, almost to the
wellsprings.

Very much a beginner, kind of edgy and short but I was drinking a lot and semi homeless at the time, just always had an interest in literature and poems so I'd appreciate feedback

Made on Mars, Made of Myself

It's me crawling around,
I think I've lost my head,
can you still hear me?

Puss from a molar,
eighteen years of nothing,
no bootstraps to pull myself by,
nothing to cover my feet.

Barefoot, my head swollen with wine,
one night I'll sleep on another porch, under another tree,
the cold will spread through my meat,
one-hundred and fifty pounds.

Dogs and racoons, rot-eating beasts,
they'll come across me, my vessel then take their fill

But it's only spring.

How were poems published historically and now?
Does a poet get a bunch of stuff he has worked on together and it gets put in his own full book? How many poems would be typical?
I figure this would change depending on the nature of the poem, such as longer epics or big story poems.

For example, now quite often we have 'The Complete Works of Shakespeare.' That's combining his poems and other works, but how did his poems originally get propagated?

>>23312488
9/10 I'm a sucker for repetition and the stressed "èd," simple theme but well-executed
7/10 I feel like the natural imagery is a little muddled with your own feelings, I'm having trouble seeing how the two are alike
>>23312570
5/10 I'm sure this came from your heart but the imagery evokes nothing in me
>>23312586
6/10 I like your style because it reminds me a bit of T. S. Elliot, otherwise I'm not really sure what this special connection you have with your dog is
>>23312631
4/10 sorry to be harsh, but this is hardly even verse, never put into verse what prose can adequately convey, the imagery doesn't really connect with the theme of self-loathing either

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>>23312678
My teacher told us a little about this. Around this time artists were moving away from patronage and more towards publishing. The most expensive copies were reserved for Folio editions, but cheaper and more accessible Quarto and Octavo versions would be available for mass audiences. As to how many works are in each, the Folio, being the most expensive, contained 36 plays, a veritable catalogue, and would have probably only been purchased by people interested in putting on a production of the play themselves. For the poems, his long-form ones would have gotten an Quarto to themselves (Venus and Adonis was printed this way, and was especially popular with broke, horny university students), and the sonnets could fit into an Quarto by themselves as well

>>23312477
Into the realm of existence
I speak that language too
Dawned is the day of deliverance
Til each goes back to the root

Sentences rain from the sky
Shadows indwelling below
Angels and instruments swarm on high
Life out of nothingness grows

Holding a scepter and holding a rod
Water is water because water falls
Bend like a body and smirk like a god
The trees of the world have grown overtall

Heaven is wide and earth is deep
The ark of life has sunk
Wonder is coming, the lamb doth bleat
The void is bleeding suns

>>23313179
Thank you. So how is poetry published now for poets?

>>23312678
what makes this verse >>23312586
and this not >>23312631
?

>>23312477
My Love for thee is like the sea:
Ever Constant, Ever Present.
It knows no border,
Or restraint.
And so, when you had Driven
Me away,
The sea was Riven,
Into Two.
Oh Lord
What Hold
You had over my soul,
That as you went,
You tore a hole,
That left me
Spent
And Broken,
Upon the Winter open.
And as I fret
Over regret,
I see the Grace,
Upon Your face,
As it fades away
Whilst I say:
“Pray,
Come back…”

>>23313429
A lot of online journals. I see a lot of small presses that publish individual poems online, then will put out anthologies or publish the chapbooks of writers they've published online a lot.

Basically the same way short story writers are published. Then again, you can always just submit a manuscript to small presses that have open submissions.

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>>23312477
It's sad, forsooth, that such strong hopes
Should pass dissolved with no sweat strained
To thrust them out from sense and form their lines.

Mayhaps there were a whir of wind
To wind to where it dwelt within
The inward flame to tell to swell and shine;

That bursts of light should gush and rage,
Thy hopes be stoked, impassioned blaze,
Resolved to dreams resolve and cleave the rind.

Engulf the fruit and pith therewith
I bid of thee, imbibe its sense:
For thee should'st poise describe and nothing 'cept.

>>23314059
self-corrections:
Mayhaps there were a whir of wind > Mayhaps there were an outward wind
should'st > should

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>>23314059
Thou think'st thy Will be free?
I'll show thee where thy binds
Lay cold in covert dark;
The flower of my abuse.

Not one moon's course described
But thou wilt be harassed,
Thy spirit cry for fly;
I'll not let my pretty loose.

Then see thou what that amounts to,
Thy "Will"; one need only pluck.

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>>23314059
Farther than the beams of child starling pierces,
Where we, left darkling in the light of our convictions
Bet all on all and far throw truths as farthings to be wasted,
Not one thought lingers long, our wealth along all derogated;
There, only there, lightly on my heart it weighs to say it:

Never heard I song so sweetly sung
As when I hailed the dragon's fiery lung.
Yet still wish I to grasp the final rung,
And still implore myself this tongue
Say nothing ex ludibrium.

a walking embrace
the darkness on your face
the walks through sombre lanes
erase, erased

a talking volte-face
the expressions we make
the knowing feeling touches
you make, erased

a glimmering flame
the pictures we made
the memory I have of you
erase, erased

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Like a period in this thing, it's that time of month again.

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>>23314893
Who likes mad libs?

>>23314900
Adjective: verbose

>>23314900
body part: elbow

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Of the Fist of God and justice so pure,
I spoke to bold men of Old Ways.
Of thousands of years of His might I spoke,
For they deeply yearn for His Grace.

Of thunder and Judgement I spoke to them,
How their eyes will witness great things
As never before seen upon this world,
And that which will desolate kings.

Falling from Heaven down unto the earth,
Hellfire, and brimstone, and pain.
Events will unfold a story well known:
A King reasserting his Reign.

>>23314626
I never like rhyming something with "face" because the word sounds too violent
I don't relate to your poem but I like your use of repetition
>>23314059
I like the devices but you overdid it with "to swell" and the second "resolve"... They sound awkward and the poem is better if you just delete them. you could probably replace "to swell" with "and swell" though
Someone else might criticize "wind" right after "wind" because it slips you up the first time you read it but since you're supposed to read poems more than once I think it works anyway
I don't understand how the last line relates to the rest of the poem.
>>23314200
This one is more interesting thematically, not really sure if the rhythm of the second stanza works or not

>>23315071
Thanks for the criticism.
>I don't understand how the last line relates to the rest of the poem.
I'm not sure how I'd go about making this image clearer, but essentially it was intended to be viewed as from the perspective of a spirit of temptation. The spirit (the whir of wind, the outward wind) entices the idle subject to either let him in or eat of the forbidden fruit in order to sharpen their faculties so he might achieve his goals (this, of course, is deception, since it's the subject's indolence which holds him back, not his lack of ability). In the third stanza "cleave the rind" is meant to evoke an image of greedily tearing something open to get to the valuables inside, or opening a door to a wealth of wisdom; thus the fourth stanza intends to build upon that idea by connecting with the second and adding in images of the drinking of the fruit's juice (the sense, wisdom), by which the subject would be granted what the spirit promised him: sharpened sense. The spirit's final temptation is an attempt to stroke the subject's ego by saying that, should he eat the fruit he would be so perfect that it would only be right if the word "poise" were constrained to refer solely to him. Honestly, I think I'd be better off switching "poise" out with "wise" since it gets the idea across better. I'm not sure I'd be willing to remove "resolved/resolve" since I think it ties in so nicely with "dissolve" from the first stanza. Sorry for such a wordy response.

tl;dr:
sense is used in two ways: 1. the powers of perception, the mind; 2. metaphorically, the wisdom of the fruit
wind (as in the movement of air) is also used in two ways: 1. wind itself; 2. wind as in anima (breath, life, soul)
inward flame is used to refer to the "inward light" as spoken of by George Fox and other Quakers
cleave the rind = getting at the jewels inside a chest; to access hidden knowledge

>>23315071
>This one is more interesting thematically, not really sure if the rhythm of the second stanza works or not
I think I see it. It breaks down on the last line, right? I'll find a way to fix it. Thanks again.

In space aloft they shine so bright and true,
And fill my soul with effervescent glow.
Atop the sky most known for vibrant hues,
They do persist quite like the winter snow,
And change the day to night as if on cue,
Yet rise and fall and never seem to grow.

Forgot by most in times ruled by the screen,
Those specks of light they do so brightly shine.
Lest we forget a vital thing to glean,
In times long past they hung upon the shrine.
When we were yet but children apt to dream,
We looked upon those stars to see divines.

>>23315071
Nta, but "face" sounds violent to you, or words that rhyme with "face?" Vace, lace, pace, space, case, etc

>>23315231
Damn that’s not what I thought it was about at all. I thought it was about reclaiming your passion/dreams for something. The wind was his own activity of moving back inwards to reclaim his passion which is finally represented by eating the fruit
>>23316116
They all sound pretty violent because it’s a short syllable with a lot of stress. But to me “face” is the worst not sure how to explain why

Bump

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Lone amid the café’s cheer,
Sad of heart am I to-night;
Dolefully I drink my beer,
But no single line I write.
There’s the wretched rent to pay,
Yet I glower at pen and ink:
Oh, inspire me, Muse, I pray,
It is later than you think!

Hello! there’s a pregnant phrase.
Bravo! let me write it down;
Hold it with a hopeful gaze,
Gauge it with a fretful frown;
Tune it to my lyric lyre ...
Ah! upon starvation’s brink,
How the words are dark and dire:
It is later than you think.

Weigh them well .... Behold yon band,
Students drinking by the door,
Madly merry, bock in hand,
Saucers stacked to mark their score.
Get you gone, you jolly scamps;
Let your parting glasses clink;
Seek your long neglected lamps:
It is later than you think.

Look again: yon dainty blonde,
All allure and golden grace,
Oh so willing to respond
Should you turn a smiling face.
Play your part, poor pretty doll;
Feast and frolic, pose and prink;
There’s the Morgue to end it all,
And it’s later than you think.

Yon’s a playwright — mark his face,
Puffed and purple, tense and tired;
Pasha-like he holds his place,
Hated, envied and admired.
How you gobble life, my friend;
Wine, and woman soft and pink!
Well, each tether has its end:
Sir, it’s later than you think.

See yon living scarecrow pass
With a wild and wolfish stare
At each empty absinthe glass,
As if he saw Heaven there.
Poor damned wretch, to end your pain
There is still the Greater Drink.
Yonder waits the sanguine Seine ...
It is later than you think.

Lastly, you who read; aye, you
Who this very line may scan:
Think of all you planned to do ...
Have you done the best you can?
See! the tavern lights are low;
Black’s the night, and how you shrink!
God! and is it time to go?
Ah! the clock is always slow;
It is later than you think;
Sadly later than you think;
Far, far later than you think.

Systems pass by this densest spot of not,
Yet oblivious to all that’s occurr’d.
Tender feelings of heat so innocent
Are but to we lowly mortals the scourge.

With cracks and a sizzle this tepid dot
Reigns over all vacant regions so near.
Whirlpools of light in the blackest of seas,
That’s what they be. Witnessing that is fear.

Deeper within those spots conceal’d, it’s said
Not a thing can escape impending doom,
And yet there are tricks to harness that fire,
But that’s too bold. First we must take the Moon.

Genuinely don't understand why anyone bothers with poetry more than like 20 lines. It really loses focus. Be conceptually concise or don't bother at all imo. This isn't directed at anyone in particular ITT btw

>>23318489
Thoughts on epics?

Below the tangled mass of treetops green,
Near deliv’rance winding out to the sea,
Lain trails of earth from a most ancient time.
Long ‘fore the conquest had those old trails been
Trod by the game that sprang forth from the land
As if passed from the fathers down to us.
Then strangers came and they pilfered the game;
They emptied those trails of their innocence.
They clear cut woodlands to open the way
For what they called a slow march of progress,
And, in their image, they remade the land.
Gone are simple camps that change by the season,
In place of them standing forts of wrought steel.
Gone are the war parties lead by great men,
Replaced by a life filled with misery.
Even were lost the friendly fur trappers
Who lived with us, as if one with the land.
Never again were those mountain men seen
Who proved peace between red man and white.
Oh how things now are so unlike back then.
Alas but those trails out there they remain
As a silent warning to those who know.
Something was here before progress swept by
Those trails that wind ever onward through time.

bump

>>23318893
not cool enough
we should relabel the genre to be BASED poetry

>I'm just your ordinary fuck up
>There's nothin' special about me
>I still bump Ramon Ayala when I get drunk
>I'm just tellin' you, I'm not playin' you
>I just wanna be the real me around you
bump with texican love lyrics

Janny you can ban me but I'll always be back
I do not share your love for trannies or blacks
My posts are of quality not usually seen
And never forget lads, they do it for -ACK

black sand
black snow
black hands
black soul

Blest is death that intervenes not
In the sweet, sweet years of peace,
But unto the broken-hearted,
When they call him, brings release!
Yet Death passes by the wretched,
Shuts his ear and slumbers deep;
Will not heed the cry of anguish,
Will not close the eyes that weep.

>>23312570
>the earth
>is not a cold dead place
Explosive

I wear the Ankh
I wear it well
I clarify the pulse and swell
I drive the sun
The light of life
I calm the lake of chthonic strife
Against the lightning lightning falls
My breath alone destroys the walls
The fire falling from the eye
Allows me move across the sky
The way is clear, the clear is clear
I steer throughout around the spheres

Adrift at sea, floating beyond
Horizons few have seen,
The rolling waves they do despond,
My mind fill’d with what’s been.

To think of her, in times like this,
Cannot be good for me.
But nay it’s right when man’s amiss,
For dreaming sets us free.

While deep in thought, I see far off
A visage sorely miss’d.
Her face raises my soul aloft;
A reason to persist.

Our hearts touch through that distance vast,
And still they beat as one.
Still haunted by those mem’ries past,
They warm me like the sun.

My soul had been so trodden low
By so crushing a test.
I hold my ground against the throes
And now my soul does rest.

>>23312477
Big bucks
Big spender
Im mixing these drugs up in my cup in a blender
I hit that shit up like Im bending my fenders
Im feeling light like a pillow like feathers
I called her a bitch and now I offend her

bump

A poem for /lit/

I hold my flag into the sky,
Its colored red and black and white.
A cross adorns its central disk
And implies forfeiture of risk.

Under it we are stockstill,
Beholden to an iron will.
In ten years time we will have died,
And from our graves our voices cry.

Up to you now, American,
Enforce the cause of Aryan man.
If you fall now and die for nothing,
All the world will end in suffering.

>>23322033
This anon got dubs
Janny could never erase
Like a cooking crack in a tub
This post was quite based

Have another bump.

Above our heads could fly
Atomic rain serene,
Descending through the skies,
Destroying the machine,
And cutting all the ties,
Restoring what has been,
But that I shan’t advise,
For it won’t be so clean.
They’re cozy little lies
For those who’ve not foreseen
The rotten sort of prize
That such a thing would bring.
Fantastic for the flies,
Events like that do seem.
At least as I surmise
From all that I can glean.

I live with a ghost.
He looks like a man I once knew, but he's not.
The ghost knows my face.
He knows my looks, they were his once.
The ghost knows my name.
He was there when it was given.
The ghost knows me.
He knows who he thinks I am.
The ghost thinks he's will be remembered.
He is already mourned, a horrible fate.
The ghost draws every painful breath with a weezing, a pain.
He has had a foot in the grave for years.

I want to mourn on stone, not broken flesh.

I live with a ghost.
I used to call him dad.

My Lady shines through my shuttered window
Attacks, alights upon my sleeping eyes.
Awake I tumble from the Sea Eternal
Over cascading waters. Magenta
Hues suffuse the morning mist,
A lunar sediment; plenitude resting in
The One above The One in All
Until their dissipation by her flaming tongues.
Steeples erected, verandas buttressed
The instant I throw back my shutters.
I raise my eyes to see My Lady:
A fiery, decapitated head.

>>23312477
im gunna plagairism test this whole thread. you have been warned

>>23326425
Anon, you know some people here deliberately post others' works to raise awareness of them, right? Just don't get crazy over false positives

>>23313223
I really like the flow of this one, I just wish there were more concrete images to grasp on to.

So when does a poet "get big" enough to write and publish poetry collections or books now?

>>23327470
yeah, that is a flaw in my poetry. I actually wrote a poem about it. Not really sure how to change it because when I'm not writing the line based on its sound all I have left is an abstract idea.

My poems are garbage, they lack imagery
They lack metaphor and good simile
Poetry and me, it wasn't mean to be
Like a muslim martyr and the catholic holy see

listen boy for that subtle ring
ignore the harmony which birds sing
draw close to the gentle breeze
hear the voices flit past the leaves

when in the valley zephyrs lift
matted fur of bison herds
cooling the brows of shepherds
Come Listen!
treat the forest as your sift
and hear the Vision
a holy thing
on zephyrs wing

>>23327522
The only ways are 1) being well connected in the literary world or 2) getting an online following large enough to get the attention of publishers

>>23327636
Has anyone done option 2 lately?

>>23326744
well I dont see any credits for them. So, no youre not off the hook

>>23328335
Just saying don't go crazy about 1:1 matches

>>23327561
I didn’t think your poem was bad at all, anon. keep writing.

>>23328370
if its 1:1 its plagairism

>>23328565
If it's 1:1 on an anonymous Zimbabwean bicycle enthusiast forum no one is profiting from another's works nor adding to their own reputation

>>23328581
Doesnt matter. All kinds of niggers get off to shit on this website. Its actually even more weird you use anonymity as an excuse to plagairize

>>23328640
It's actually mental that you're blasted about plagiarism on a site in which no academic integrity is violated nor anyone stands to profit professionally or monetarily by posting another's work.
This is like getting pissed at art inspiration threads on /tg/ or whatever because they don't credit the artist.
As I said, echoing other anons, people post the works of other to bring awareness to them.
I posit that by divorcing a poet's name from their work, the work can stand by its own merits, allowing interested users to ask about or search for the original poet
There is no injured party and poets only receive free advertising

Jesus, You are too good to me.
I have not earned Your reprieve.
But by God,
I will not waste it either.

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>>23328686
>conflating art "inspiration" with literal copying

Except thats a convenient cop out and no one ever searches for the original author and you fucking know it. By you adding "receiving free advertising" is the most twisted reasoning behind your clear cut megalomaniac thievery, that I wonder if you are so far up your own ass you actually believe the absolute flagrant lying vomit you spit up as an excuse.
Go choke on a nigger dick you walking trash heap

>>23328752
Lurk more

>>23328752
Post poetry, fag. Nobody cares about your autistic obsession.

>>23328886
with a plagairist in the thread? no

>>23328918
You thinking it’s possible to root out a plagiarist on /lit/—when the most fundamental reality of 4chinz is anonymity—is what alters this obsession from a mere unhealthy curiosity into the fruitless pursuit of that which cannot be reached.

>>23328954
It clearly can be "reached". so long as there are people who care enough to call it out, the mega faggot theives will always be caught

>>23328971
If your definition of caught is a (You), then yes they can be caught. You’ll need janny support if you want to even attempt getting them to fuck off.

Are any of you subscribed to poetry publication with regular schedules? Physical and/or online subscriptions?
Where are you finding your contemporary poetry?
After I read and write more poems, I hope I can get some of my work published

>>23328991
yes, but I suspect a janny makes these threads, seeing how they keep getting mad, with the same guy copying poems

>>23329035
Anon, can you point out which guy is copying poems? Just a (you) on the ones in the thread should be fine

>>23329023
I like keeping up with and submitting to the various /lit/ projects/e-mags when they pop up. Shame they never last, but that's the game.

West of the river we're rolling.
Beating our meat on the unbeaten road.
They didn't know that even this rhyme is stolen.
The fruit baby Jesus forebode.

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>some bit of board/thread culture exists
>an autist and/or newfag gets caught not understanding the game
in this case
>people post uncredited poetry from known authors in order to bait the easily-fooled
>some autist is easily fooled, spends the few threads screeching about plagiarism to soothe his embarrassment
Many such cases. In /sfg/ there was a guy who got laughed at for not knowing the rocket equation and his meltdown might have ended in a rangeban, I can't remember the specifics.

>>23329167
Wannabe e-celebs mine forums for the kind of sincerity they're incapable of. Card is one example but it doesn't matter, people can't own words, trying to hoard them is braindead.

Wade through clear water
And remember the stories.
What’s that over there?

Bump

Here is my poem:

Convicted of mass murder
30 souls sent to hell
My death row meal
One pound fettuccine Alfredo made by my girlfriend
Steak well done with ketchup
30 tomatos
Hamburger extra pickles
Even more extra pickles
Patty melt
Grilled cheese
The slimiest seaweed salad you can find
Spicy chicken sandwich
A pound of shiestrung French fries
A pound of curly fries
A plate of ketchup and mayo
3 Hot dog with krtchup and mustard
A pound of mozzarella cheese

Hope you enjoy ed

/pg/ is the best thread on /lit/
that’s why I’m going to bump it
no one can stop me
jannies, don’t bop me
I’m reading while taking a shit

I forgot but now I remember
The stories you left in the stream
Stepping in clear waters stir
An old memory or a dream

What’s that over there?
The final answer to it all
I have it now here
It says "shop at the minimall"

A plastic wallet
Cash preferred by none
Deprive a man of credit
It's cleaner than a gun

>>23332481
Nice. Simple, political, and cuts to the point

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Anyone read pic related?

>>23332501
Thanks. I was shopping around for a new card and just thinking of how evil these plastic little bastards can seem if you're not careful.

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>>23322576
are you by any chance the same anon that wrote the "I see the barges floating, so closely on the bay" poem?

>For the great Gaels of Ireland
>Are the men that God made mad,
>For all their wars are merry
>And all their songs are sad
I had no clue this was Chesterton but I just ran across it in The Ballad of the White Horse. Absolute kino.

>>23332781
Nope, these are mine >>23315035 >>23315418 >>23318074 >>23319302 >>23322576 >>23325752 >>23332481 I think the only other I've posted to /pg/ was the "Deeper Down Below" poem from a thread or two ago.

Bump

>>23332805
great stuff, anon. keep writing and sharing with us please.

English is not my first language, so I never write anything in it, but I thought of something very simple while reading this thread. Hope you enjoy

Battling with daylight
I think of your rhymes
Surrendering to night
I write your lines

Meanings rise
Standing atop, with strife
It is, but a price
To pay for your life

Tomorrow comes
Tomorrow dies
But I stay calm
With you at my side

Should I post poems with my own name attached on Poemhunter or a similar site just so something shows up when you search for me? Anyone ever consider this?

KEEK

look how he crawls before
NO

It is said that it shall not be written

Nice work.

Has anyone read any modern epics or long-form story poems that they'd recommend?

>>23333762
not too bad at all, anon
you don’t need a comma after “It is” in line 7, fyi.

bump

gn poem anons

To form and fall from higher skies,
As if the clouds do cry,
The rain sojourns from up above
And flutters down much like a dove.
To end that reign so dry.

bump

posted by anon in another thread but not here, so I’m just sharing it.

We stood and held a nervous stare
Beneath the dusking skies
That lit her trussed autumnal hair
And sparkling wint'ry eyes.

Spring, I think, was in her heart,
And that I loved the best;
But still, for all my flow'ry art,
I could not play out summer's part;
And love's miss-timed elusive dart
Just missed the second chest.

It was mating season so I initiated the primate mating ritual.
My subconscious mind detected signs that she was ovulating.
Despite this and my desirability as a mate she feigned disinterest.
I challenged a rival to a duel where we displayed our swords and fancy armour.
It was very romantic.

I've poetically translated the Kazakhstan anthem, how is it?
>https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Men%C4%B1%C3%B1_Qazaqstanym

Golden sun in the skies
Golden fields of the plain
Courage burns in our eyes
Our country will never wane
From ancient times did we ride
Glory to us did belong
We did not give up our pride
The Kazakhs stood strong!

(Chorus)
My country dear, my home and my land
Our people are the flowers that you plant
Our song goes on, streaming on and on
My native land, my Kazakhstan!

Our children's path was made
By the steppes that we've sown
Unity never frayed
Independence we own!
The tests of time we withstood
Like an eternal friend
Our country is good
Our glory never end!

(Repeat chorus)

>You know the day destroys the night
>Night divides the day
>Tried to run
>Tried to hide
>Break on through to the other side
Was Morrison a good poet?

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Bringing this over from another thread. I didn't realize at the time that the OP request prose describing this picture.

Suddenly now,
Isolation
broken, but how
I feel that the
soft and sweet brush
leaves me smitten.

>>23337649
based
>>23337740
most national anthems are patriotic and positive like this
>>23338010
simple and cute

>>23323659
What a shame that someone with a decent talent for poetry is writing brainless Neo-Nazi slop.

>>23312488
The first poem is just bland. I'm sorry to say it, but it's very bland.

The second has more interesting ideas, but is rough with too many clichés.

As I frequent this general, a thought occurs to me: if I compose an original poem and post it here, I pretty much can't use it in the future for publishing purposes, can I?
I would just be accused of stealing from anons on 4chan, yes? [Not also considering my association with the site could be figured out]
Just keep my magnum opus out of here, I figure

>>23312631
This is extremely good. You have so much potential. Just do me a favor and don't make yourself an enemy of Christ in your work.

>>23313122
You have no taste.

>>23313223
This is good, but I have to agree with the other anon that commented. The imagery seems just a bit off.

>>23312488
Poem 1 has some cutesy to it. That stuff gets me, and lovey-style stuff has a tendency to be cheesy.
You were accurate that you made sacrifices that weakened it.
If this is strictly an iambic tetrameter challenge, then fine. But, for non,challenges, so long as you establish your intended meter, you can break from the the predominant style a few times so long as it still flows and/or accentuates a particular image/idea

>>23314626
This is strong. It needs a bit of tweaking maybe, but it's close to being something you could stand on. I really like the concept and the method of execution.

>>23315035
I wish this felt a little more contemporary, but it's good and I love the heart behind it.

>>23322033
You love blacks, you just don't know
A based post! White as snow—
Typed by black hands THOUGH!

>>23338722
I just post stuff in image form. I figure it'll be a long time before Google thinks it's worth the compute cost to scrape and OCR images so they'll show up in text searches.

Video Vilage

Bless the relentless grounding of boots,
in the labyrinth they call Video Village,
where riders navigate the stare of colossal, unblinking screens.
"Gold in your teeth, motherfucker," reverberates off the ATM,
Cut, take thirty-three—watch as the gods of the scene dissolve.

Thunder checks return void, lightning bills yet to clear,
while chatter shatters like crockery in a plundered quiet.
A figure of haunting age dominates, drained of all but shadows,
alien to the spectral crew that threatens to bleed the budget dry,
and send the director to an early grave.

He is no mere man, but a conglomerate of deceptions, an entire ecosystem unto himself,
sweeping away the masters, the stash, the essence of what was real,
leaving nothing but the fractured remnants of your most trusted defenses.
His anger is a quiet inferno, a cryptic storm that remains unseen.

With eerie calm, he communicates through the absence of sound, his choices flawless,
never bartering for profit but adhering to invisible truths,
rejecting every advantage except the solitude of his own perspective.
Within my mind, a council of voices whispers,
bound by a pact as shadowy as it is gentle,
keeping the fragmented selves from falling apart.

And there, the incessantly small figure at the doorway, forever trying to enter,
a despot’s favored underling,
held back by an unyielding cosmic denial,
not moving until the other, an equally ancient presence, notes the fading light
in that room as dark as darkness itself.

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>>23338688
>most national anthems are patriotic and positive like this
Thanks.

The toughest part was trying to maintain the general meaning and feeling while fitting the melody, since a lot of the Kazakh words have more or fewer syllables than the English translation.

>>23338722
I never post anything I care about for that very reason.

>>23331166
The only part I enjoyed was: 30 tomatoes.

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>>23312477
im so elite nowadays i dont bother writing poems without a consistant meter, beat, or rhyme. just last month i wrote one where two parts of each line rhymed with its pair like
A, B
C, D
E, B
F, D

A, B
C, D
E, B
F, D

all with a strong rhythm and matching syllable count throughout. it was epic /lit/ sucks get on my level idiot

The rain-rotten roof let storms in.
This building may fall on us soon.
The ocean swells and shrinks again
While we dance in the light of the moon.

The moonlit ship will take us home.
A trade, they demand old gold for
Baby Silver. Waves roll the dome
of heaven...And the Storm was foretold.
======

I was thinking about Homesickness, my bad landlord, and platnium when drafting this, and its the first piece of something that I think has legs enough to run with more revision, but I wanted to ask if it actually seems to to a more critical eye

I was born in a barn
without no running water
my mother never wiped her ass
and neither did my father

I ain't known a bath
not since I were a toddler
all that soap and shampoo
seem like such a bother

I'm just a simple farmer
but I'm so misunderstood
'cause I ain't never smelled good

Plenty folk brush they teeth
and take care to shine they shoes
I done stepped in cow manure
and my breath reeks of booze

I be sweating like a hog
flannel sticking to my boobs
I never owned a deodorant
can't figure what's the use

It ain't make no difference
throughout the troubles I've withstood
I ain't never smelled good
no I ain't never smelled good

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Poetry is complicated as fuck man... I thought it would be something simple to do but now I'm scared I might do it wrong

>>23339777
It is. Share some of your works here, Anon. Don't worry so much about the mistakes. It's like a muscle; Wear, tear and damage makes it stronger.
Nobody is holding a gun to your head if you fail. If they are, consider radically different actions

>>23339789
I haven't wrote any poems yet. I'm watching Youtube videos explaining what poems are right now lol. I'm going to try and write my own afterwards. Or maybe much later on idk

>>23339836
>I'm watching Youtube videos explaining what poems are right now lol. I'm going to try and write my own afterwards.
the zoomer ethos, summarized

>>23339867
Quiet, you. How little different this is from learning from an oral practitioner?
The ethos of a loser, you have presented

>>23339929
>How little different this is from learning from an oral practitioner? The ethos of a loser, you have presented
have you tried learning english first from any kind of practitioner that's not yoda

>>23339947
Ah, yes. All those "yoda" speakers. Or, first language learning, which is all primarily oral supplemented with practice.

poetry is easy to learn, just remember the senses and poetic devices. and then let your emotions explode onto the page, and go back and edit later

I don't write poems.
They're too complicated, no?
Oh, wait, I just did.

When I was young I was told
That my grandmother put away money for my for my grave
And she did this almost each and every day
Grandma when I die I hope you are still alive
Grandma when I die I hope you die intentionally with me
So that I can be reborn from the womb of our grave

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NOT MINE, JUST POSTIN´
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Die Herrschaft des Eises / Leichenschmaus... 04:01 Hide lyrics
...Es war die hellste aller Nächte, und eine
wunderbare Harmonie aus Himmel und Erde
spiegelte absolute Reinheit. Auf mysteriöse
Weise liess die Kälte des Eises alles erstarren.
Zeit schien nicht mehr zu existierte und dennoch,
getragen auf Wellen der Kälte rückte bisher unbekannter Regen,
erstrahlend im eigenen Schleier der Stille heran und schloss das
Tor zu seit Jahrzehnten vergangenen Zeiten,
dem vergangenen Königreich der Leblosigkeit.
In dieser Nacht beendete das Eis die Menschheit
und liess die Ode der Reinheit und das Requiem
im Gedenken des endlosen Leides erklingen …

A thousand times I died in my bed,
But I've been laying wide-eyed inside my head,
Trying to drink,
Myself into these dreams,
But I've been tortured by my sins,
From my subtle lonely screams.

And apparently psychotherapy,
Ain't got no guarantee,
On my life or structure.
And if my parents could see where are we,
Close to degree,
Grab knife and rupture.

Thin red line,
Irreversible moments in time,
I'm sipping turpentine, mixed with wine,
My last moments of sunshine.

It's not a lot of fun to live in today's insanity;
Randomly victimized by visual vanity.
I guess I'll keep it cool,
And just keep riding my flow.

Walk on the Moon,
Empty the balloon;
The room's maroon.

You can't cope with it,
So you shoot dope.
Man, I hope you quit.

>>23340558
Garbage

>>23340612
I have good taste and I like it, so your opinion is discarded.

These bums are the disease
Resulting from the sleaze
Who munch on gubmint cheese.
They do just as they please
While forcing us to squeeze
And living lives of ease.

>>23336918
someone please crit this one

>>23336918
Makes me sad, Anon

>>23340881
generic

>>23340645
>I have good taste
>source? Well me of course
Fucking tards

>>23340920
you are asking a source for an opionion? hmmmm

>>23339777
I got to try and increase my vocabulary if I'm going to write nice poems

>>23336918
It's well put to together. Damn anon keep going and you'll be making the really really good shit soon

>>23341305
Yeah an above average vocabulary and the ability to feel rhythm in speech are probably the two most important things when writing poetry.

>>23341183
>be meth addict who has never read before not even to save his life
>yeah I think I have good taste mang
Mongoloid, oppinions can be absolute asswash.

>>23341305
Another thing along with vocab and a sense of rhythm like >>23341334 thats useful / fun to develop is a sensitivity to rhetorical figures. A lot of them have names and a long history of people coming up with examples that meet the definitions so its easy to get a sense of what they are and what they do. Of course there are the well known ones like simile, metaphor, alliteration, but just about any way you can twist a phrase will have a Greek or Latin name.

I don't know of any poetic exercise better than translating. It works nearly the same poetic muscles as composition and deepens appreciation of others' work. And I find I can do it whether or not I am in a creative mood.
Of course you need to be at least bilingual for this to work. All the more reason to get studying.

>>23339165
Read it aloud to see where the beats are off. Pretty neat, you should read/listen to Under Milk Wood if you haven't

With clanks and clicks stone arrows rain
Upon our men of Christ.
The savage knows not what he’s done.
He yet doth worship not but sun
And soon he’ll pay the price.

>>23343113
based, you could probably remove the word yet from line 4.

>>23343965
I put it there to foreshadow their conversion

>>23343997
What if you switch up the words He and yet

>>23344012
That would place the emphasis of the iamb on the wrong syllable imo. Also starting a two line iambic tetrameter>iambic trimeter pairing with “yet” feels wrong to my brain.

>>23343113
The irony

>>23312477
I hate how this board is full of verse autists. There's nothing wrong with writing in verse, but it seems like anything written free verse or in its own syntax gets instantly dismissed.
I know free verse has opened up the gates to a lot of amature poets oversaturating the market, but surely we can't brush T.S. Elliot and Rupi Kaur with the same brush?

>>23344230
Rhythm=cool
Meter->Rhythm
Free verse does not necessarily bring rhythm
Do you have some examples for unique syntax?

>>23344230
>complains about verse autism being dismissed without offering commentary on the many examples of free verse in the thread
Be the change you want to see

>>23344230
it's not that they're verse autists, it's that they don't understand poetry at all. I seriously doubt there is anyone who actually reads and writes poetry regularly who claims that poetry must be in meter. The fact is that if you understand meter, you will understand how good free verse is not just prose and not arhythmical. And if you have tried to write in both meter and free verse, you will also understand that constraining yourself to a fixed meter actually makes it EASIER to write a good poem. It gives your mind more to work with. I write most of my poems in meter, but the ones I write in free verse I usually do so because I have a stronger theme or more ideas to begin with and don't need meter as a crutch to help come up with lines. I honestly don't see how I can improve enough to consistently write good free verse.

>>23344230
^<Truly. this
Anyone who?
Doesn’t
Just!
Write what TH3Y want
How eveR
Th€y want
ĮZ an
Autistic® Provi-
ncial™ Rube®.
Fin.

>>23344357
This is mocking, right? That's the thought that comes to mind.

>>23344535
We could consider it an ornate pastiche of but a single platonic ideal of both poetry and liberty.

bump so the thread isn't dead in the morning

>>23344357
Kino

>>23343113
Boring christshit ramble

>>23346500
Cringe

>>23346681
What's cringe is a half-assed posture piece that's ignorant of the history of it's own subject matter

>>23346942
I wrote both of these >>23319302 >>23343113. Tell me how I’ve angered you so I can do it more effectively. The poems are not about the same people.

>>23347018
Abrahamism is the result of people copying Akhenaten's homework then rifling through Egyptian creation stories for more material. Christianity owes its existence to the most autistic sun worshiper in history.

>>23346942
Cringe

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蚰蜒が全身駆けり眠れない
げじげじが ぜんしんかけり ねむれない

house centipedes, they're
scurrying all over me
I can't get to sleep

>>23347073
I don’t know why I expected you to have an intelligent critique. I’m genuinely disappointed.

>>23347104
Like the erstwhile
Saint, now I am
called to duty.

Grab my lance--lace
on my maille--to
vanquish dragons.

Shoe in hand, my
courage thriving
at the beast's sight.

SCURRY! DASHING
MONSTER! Shrieking,
I flee. Coward.

Feathers of a swan
From a far away land
Dipped in crushed petals
The brush that paints perfectly
Isn't a brush

>>23312488
1) boring, trite
2) boring, trite

>>23312570
you wrote what you think a poem should sound like, not an actual poem

>>23312586
metre fucked, starting a new line doesn't do what you think it's doing, going schizo is overrated

>>23312631
so self-indulgent in reality you said nothing at all

>>23313223
metre fucked, begs to be called pretentious, but to do so would be gratuitous

>>23313603
stop pressing enter, this is fragmented and bad - yes any idiot could read between the lines but really you're just too lazy to write sentences. you make the reader do all the work you left out. no payoff. trite, choresome

>>23314059
hamfisted metaphors, a litter of archaic language because you think thats what a poem sounds like

>>23314200
speaks nothing of your experience

>>23314383
drivel

>>23314626
weak trite

>>23315035
reads badly

>>23315418
you know its stars in the first line and you gain nothing reading the next 11

>>23317534
i don't hate it, i don't think it benefitted from being so long - you had the idea and got the template but then you just start riffing for several verses, not concice

>>23318074
i'm personally bored of yours now so i wont bother responding to any more

>>23318332
you just thought of the dual meaning of court and started typing huh

>>23318333
couldn't even bother to rhyme

>>23319302
pretentious waffle

>>23322373
i like the idea not the execution

>>23322550
bad

>>23326008
hamfisted

>>23327582
you just wanted to type zephyr

>>23329167
this one is actually good

>>23333762
keep trying

>>23336918
i get it you link on the references to seasons, but i think the second part is far stronger than the first. honestly you could cut out the first part and middle 2 lines of the second part too.

>>23343113
not an original thought to be seen

>>23347139
i only like the final stanza

>>23347291
>i'm personally bored of yours now so i wont bother responding to any more
You responded to two of mine after this btw.

>>23347291
Useless critique from a blatant retard.

>>23312488
first sounds like Poe

>>23314114
that's not the only wind

>>23314900
love that shit better than reading

>>23317534
that's some excellent bar-room poetry anon, well done

>>23323659
/pol/

>>23324456
KEK

>>23331166
are the curly fries in the room right now?

>>23347291
>you just thought of the dual meaning of court
It isn't a dual meaning, it's a degenerated meaning

>>23347313
I really like the phrasing of "blatant retard." Well done; shall use in further posts

>>23347291
>this one is actually good
Praise on the riff that was only written to shame a sperg
Sincerity pays, kids

Ha ha, the mighty bump

>>23348034
Sounds like the stage name of a clit.

>>23312477
Give me harsh criticism, i need it

By stink sticks,
gelatine bags of ectoplasm
green metal smoke and
the whiff of whiskey buzz
The world opens up

Piggy willard hollering
wild red
Busted a vein strain in tendon nights
a schmuck
Take a shooooooood
right on the road side
Right on time for the common folk
to see

piggy willard
Gots the cheese funk,
A taste for grease
And for a second chin

Piggy willard kisses the
Road goodbye for sludge
mass plasma

Punctured heart of oak
Billowing sails aloft
Men on deck gnash and wail
Pick me next!
Glancing where on edge
The ice and water falls
Shifting precipice
Fates sealed
Late in a, by a
Meadow, doe's field
Already blossom, harvest's commenced
But who knew?
Aboard
Sails for oars
Hull to patchwork
Inflatable, deflated
Elated at our false July
Our sunkist storms
Our dreamy river island shores
Closely beyond the plummeting tide
Echoed rainbows mock
At distance the siren hates
Her captaincy of all new moments
He hopes
Quiet before the
Terror before the
It succeeds
Decrees
Quiet

Gliding ascendent, grasping
To sky blue depths
Encompassing, unfathomed
By him
He laughs, tears
Thrilled at sunset's farewell kiss
Orange smears thoughtless chrome
Certainty regrets
Eternity in some little box?
Forward to a heroes' crossing!
Does bravery shake
Against the current, craven
Like flowing salmon upriver?
Snaps, snapped
Into jaws
Under the lock of echoed daggers
Sinister remembrance
No key
Better always to have died
A loved husk, no
Soaring wings
Making shadows revel
Delighting against peaks
Splashed over suburbs
Visual tribute in the blue, to
And for
The firmly damaged
Securely stricken
Off the record
A miracle
Creation engine, him, of Him
Later, sprint to the finish
Earlier than expected
It even shined in the flicker
Embers, after party
Charred
85 minutes
And the box remains small
Fit for no prince, who
Remains beyond the firm footing
Of his mother
The Earth

>>23312678
You can go back further than the history, and wonder why you're not currently oral traditionmaxxing for your tribe. But yeah, oral tradition, then write that down, then people make spinoffs which become more degenerate the more layers of spinoffs there are. Nowadays it's all recording but that's more of a >>>/mu/ topic. The epics, Illiad, Odyssey, were spoken from memory for kings and courts.

>2024
>Reject modernity inassofar to go on a Quechan basket-weaving forum
>'Might as well further the oral tradition'
>Become a rapper
>Give a voice to the commons in the Common Era

You can still make it.

>>23349354
It reads as if you smoke, drink alcohol, indulge in meat, and masturbate. I know, I'm there too. Not to be puritanical but healthy bodies write healthy poems.

>>23349354
Wonderfully gross. Bravo!
>>23347188
Short and sweet!
>>23343113
Nice, but I feel like it could be trimmed slightly somewhere? Or extended, even.
>>23340553
I really like this. Sorry, I imagine you have had some sad times.
>>23339836
You are overthinking this. As some other anon said, let your emotions explode onto the page and edit it later.
>>23337649
This feels like a Vulcan wrote it.
>>23336918
Wonderful.
>>23336187
>>23333762
Love these two.

>>23317534
Funny, I just popped in with the thought I'd see it here. Again.

>>23349968
it is kinda self depreciating of past experiences. Really does read like that doesn't it?

>>23349968
>healthy bodies write healthy poems
how does that relate to good poems?

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>>23349968
>indulge in meat

B12

>>23349354
fucking slam poetry shit

>>23351523
is it bad?

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>>23312477
If I wanted to get into poetry, where would I start?

>>23352179
Try Childe Harold by Byron.

>>23352179

Start with a poem you had to read in school and memorize it. If you didn't have to read any poems in school then google "famous poems" and memorize the first one. It's unfortunate but popular poems tend to be popular for a reason.

After you've memorized it, recite it aloud. Find somewhere to do it alone so you're not afraid to ham it up. Then, find someone on youtube who's recited it and give it a listen.

After you've done this a couple times, read a long poem like paradise lost or something. Dont worry about memorizing this one.

.At every step carefully examine your feelings. Learning to like poetry is not like learning math; it's very vibes-based.

After all this try writing one

>>23339777
Oh I thought this thread died. I already posted my little poem in the other one

I need to do
A doo-doo
Adieu

>>23351604
slam poems is the post-modernism of poetry

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>>23312477
if you cant memorise your poems without practice, its not a good poem.

& By the neck of it all
2000 DJs Forever
Cast lots through the
Subway system bumping
Sweet cherry light machine
Fucking fingers split cross
Walk walk walk that that
Head house walk blue house
Lead lead lead switch map
Flicker haunt switch hold go

Pacific flower
Of days long past
And says yet to come
You're special beauty
Is comparable to none

This
is
NOT
what you think it
is.

>>23356265
so you're telling me it's not shid?

Nations, faces, ages pass,
pass as in a dream,
an ever-flowing stream.

In Nature's shifting glimmer-glass
stars are nets, we their haul,
gods are shadows on a wall.

Velimir Khlebnikov

>>23323659
goes kinda hard

Calf
"Ahh look at heeer"
"Laying down eh?"
"Who's a lazy fat lady?"
I rub her underneath her neck*
"Whats up girl?"
"Ouch, your tongue is like a grater, watch out where you swirl that thing"
She can't be bothered to stand up, twisting her neck around trying to lick my hand as im stroking her around her neck trying to avoid her tongue
I step back
Still looking, she flaps one ear.
"Bye cow!"
Is this poetry?

>>23356842
Yes
Words on conveyor
Conveyor of words
Worst words ever heard
The bird
The bird is the word

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>>23349354
>>23349940
>>23349957
>>23354815
>>23356265
>>23356842
>>23356975

I went to the store store store and and I

I went the the store
and I bought pop at the store
and the store asked if I wanted more pop
and I said no thank you store I have enough pop
and I drank it

>>23359081
I don’t think this poem would work at all if it called it soda, cola, etc and I don’t live in an area where anyone says “pop.” I like it.

>>23360318
Writing off the cuff here.

The house of cards collapses // in a 52 cascade
What a presentation! // See it presently unmade
A gust of errant happenstance // and all is on the floor
That's the way illusions go! // I can pretend no more.

How far that effigy was carried // merry from its place
Aloft within an air balloon // filled with hot air's grace.
But oh that grinning mock-up // has plummeted to earth.
And now the journey here has ceased // Now all will see my worth.

The car has sputtered in its place // the tank is low on gas.
The ship careens back into port // drifting by pure mass.
For 15 years, the golden child // and soon the bitter joke!
The world that saw me doing well // will know I'm fucking broke.

5/6/2024

>>23360370
relatable

Rage?
It fills me.
No reason at all,
But yet it stays.
Anger is it?
Toward something
Unreachable?
Unknowable.
Desperate need to fight?
Someone?
Anyone.
Why do I feel this?
Why does it feel good?
Purpose.
Destruction.

>>23361535
almost all of the question marks are unnecessary, and you should just say but or yet instead of but yet.

To love and fight
So back and forth
To wax and wane
Inflicting pain
That feels like rain
But I love you
More than I knew
It’s true

If I was a water pump
Thanklessly delivering life
A constant hum announces me
Eaten from the inside

>>23354415
you mean with practice?

>>23364484
>he can’t instantly remember every poem he has ever written

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>>23364484
nope. without practice. the poems I make are so good, I reflexively recite them in my head during the day.

>>23364691
>implying I write
>>23364755
based

>>23312477
expert noob at poetry here. Can anon here do a quick critique?

It would be foolish
to ask for a restart
How can anyone choose
to do it all again?

I have let her down
So, please let me drown
in the dying sea
of my old dead soul

What can be prayed
is to rebuild all that
was destroyed with tears
by souls rising through ash

>>23365523
the one thing i hate about modern poetry is the idea that poems are just a stream of conscious that you sometimes hit return in. Thats not specifically the issue with yours, I can see you tried being consistant with the syllables. A good example is the middle section, its significantly more memorable just on the basis thst its consistant.
Some people can be satisfied with conveying a message or an emotion, but me personally Im more impressed with rhythm, rhyme, meter and tempo as well as conveying an idea. I feel modern poetry doesnt do enough to challenge people to improve technical skill. Being consistant with syllable and rhyme schemes is an easy way to make your poems/songs sound pro level.
If I were tweaking this, Id do
AABC
for all three parts. or even
AABC/DDEC
to be extra fancy.

While you worded
I studied the blade
You never heard it
The sound your falling head made

>>23366706
based

my kingdom for a single line well-written
or two, a couplet fresh and unbeshitten
alas i have not found in all the land
a quatrain I could e'en remotely stand
and every sextet that I lay my eyes upon
is fouler than a tray that they serve fries upon
at some small, smoke-filled, godforsaken diner
sign reads: "you'll never find an octet finer!"
sign lies, as do all those who write such verses.
10-line poems? they belong in hearses

>>23367173
I liked that.

>>23367173
you wrote upon twice.

>>23312488
The second poem has some stock phrases like "bated breath" which I feel like are best avoided in poetry, but overall I feel like it has a lot of potential. I particularly like how you talked about time with "long minute before the dawn" and "the beat of my heart outpaces the seconds". If you were trying to evoke the subjectivity of time and how it contracts and dilates and speeds up and slows down then you did a good job.

I'm not God but God is me
I'm not bound but I'm not free
The Buddha smiles but his hurt is deep
Natura non saltus facit -
Nothing to Buddha and nothing to Christ
And not to Mohammad's delight
No Ramakrishna Krishnamurti Sri Confucius either
Let not negation or creation gather new believers
For,
Saying nothing will not be the way
Unless there is nothing to say
The five jewels of suchness have five other ends
With emptiness opened, existence is realized within
And tempered and measured, existence is lost in the wind

>>23367173
clever. thanks for sharing, anon.

In the depths of despair, where darkness lies,
A glimmer of hope like a beacon shines bright.
It whispers sweet promises to weary eyes,
And kindles the flame that was once doused in plight.

Through trials and tribulations, it stands strong,
Defying the odds with unwavering grace.
It carries us through when all seems wrong,
And warms our hearts in life's cold embrace.

With each new dawn, hope springs anew,
Like a flower emerging from winter's chill.
It gives us strength to face what we must do,
And reminds us that there is always time to fulfill.

So hold on tight to this precious gift so rare,
For in hope lies the answer to every prayer.

>>23370481
learn some meter bro

wandering the early verdant forest
with the sweet west wind in my hair
im wild and unbound
nothing else can compare

passing by a dead bird
passing by a flower unfolding
into the bewitching darkness
like starving dogs howling

>>23370857
looks like you're trying to do contrast but it's not really clear. I like it better without the second stanza
6.5/10
>>23363456
overly generic but not bad execution, good poem for a teenage girl 7/10
>>23363652
8/10

>>23370481
too many words too little meaning
everyone already knows what hope is
a single image suffices, and then you don't have to say that the image represents hope. let the image speak for itself. either condense the poem into two lines or weave in more complex themes.

Lately, I’ve been trying to write English verse in Greco-Roman elegiac couplets (a hexameter followed by a pentameter, with no rhyme). It’s very hard to make dactyls sound natural in English, and this poem should mainly be taken as a metrical exercise rather than a complete work, but:

Elegy in Half Light

Love, to the Paradise of Olives please come through these vines,
Humid and misty in green, vines slipping labyrinths wrought
Vine-thick, pulsing in hot locks, lavishly frightening and free
Living this world in the dark, hoping to see through this space.

Love, to the center of autumn come home breathing to me, fired,
Centered on love in your leap, trailing your flames through the sky,
Whipping the air with your body in ecstasy, freshly hot green,
Fiery cold to the last, lightly involved in the dawn.

Brazen with drunk air, moons brush her. Into fear she sees, giggling
Giddy with shimmering hair, pink to the touch of my lips.
Venus in curls of the falling and wet green leaves and the turning,
Boundless in fiery charm, seasons in floods past your sighs.

Brides of delight in the morning come home, sun-kiseed, and still smiling,
Angels of Venus in arms, sailing through dawn in desire,
Women of morning in heaven’s sweet maze, and you women of dawn laughing,
Figures all gliding through me, singing and speaking through me.

>>23371572
I like it, anon. I only wish it rhymed. but it did feel natural to me.

>>23370857
well its kinda like tonal dissonance

>>23371572
i prefer (all) the pauses to match, but its cool. real gud (and also please rhyme it I know its greco roman or whatever but still you know what they say "latin is a dead language")

>>23372442
also it sounds good with an irish accent

>>23360370
https://voca.ro/1cPzoGJtpDBK

whoa

If I sat here all day
I would see the clouds float away
But I change faster than they do

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I'm 29, and it's a constant worry that my feelings and therefore my poetry is asinine, childish, angsty. I hope one day I can express myself in a way that other people can appreciate.

>>23372734
I love this! I've written it down and will come back to it regularly <3

>>23373162
Are you OK, Anon? I know life is rough. Let me tell you that you are loved. God loves you and I love you.
If you need help, I can recommend Catholic Charities therapists. Faith or no faith--doesn't matter. They'll serve anybody and they work with you and will even help if you don't have insurance. They lower their costs to meet your income. It's OK to reach out and get help. There's strength, not weakness, in asking experts to looks at problems.

she is the fiery dawn
silhouette dancing in a field of flowers
a blazing star floating
in the black ink of space

I'm a discolored torn bag of refuse
washed upon the grey shore
decaying slowly
smelling like the open legs of a whore

>>23373262
Damn nigga dont tell him he needs therapy just from a poem

>>23373162
> I hope one day I can express myself in a way that other people can appreciate.

you get better so you can appreciate yourself

>>23373349
relatable, but frustrating

I'm new to this. Also ESL. Toughts?
Travel safe and say hi up there
Remind them of me
But not to stare
Just to glance at my crown, bald
Once in a while

I'll manage without you
I figured how
Grey sweatpants and wet towel
Asking strangers what the fuss is about
Offering watermelons to kids around

my friend says that free verse isn’t really poetry and that most people agree with him. also that it only exists in english.
it sounded to me like a 4chan take, so i’m wondering what (you) think about this

>>23375702
it is a 4chan take insofar as /lit/ is a dilettante's board

>>23375702
I don’t know any specific examples but I’m pretty confident free verse poetry exists in other languages.
Also most people are retarded and think of poems as Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, free verse is obviously poetry

>>23375702
English focuses on rhymes partly because they stopped singing.
917AD a seven year old boy playing rugby against a 12 year old opponent got mad so he went home, got an axe and split the head of the other boy. His mother called him viking material so he sang this. The word for this kind of singing means something like submitting to madness, related to the English word "ode" and the god Odin.
Þat mælti mín móðir,
at mér skyldi kaupa
fley ok fagrar árar,
fara á brott með víkingum,
standa upp í stafni,
stýra dýrum knerri,
halda svá til hafnar
hǫggva mann ok annan.

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Altazor ¿por qué perdiste tu primera serenidad?
¿Qué ángel malo se paró en la puerta de tu sonrisa
Con la espada en la mano?
¿Quién sembró la angustia en las llanuras de tus ojos como el adorno de
un dios?
¿Por qué un día de repente sentiste el terror de ser?
Y esa voz que te gritó vives y no te ves vivir
¿Quién hizo converger tus pensamientos al cruce de todos los vientos
del dolor?
Se rompió el diamante de tus sueños en un mar de estupor
Estás perdido Altazor
Solo en medio del universo
Solo como una nota que florece en las alturas del vacío
No hay bien no hay mal ni verdad ni orden ni belleza
¿En dónde estás Altazor?

La nebulosa de la angustia pasa como un río
Y me arrastra según la ley de las atracciones
La nebulosa en olores solidificada huye su propia soledad
Siento un telescopio que me apunta como un revólver
La cola de un cometa me azota el rostro y pasa relleno de eternidad
Buscando infatigable un lago quieto en donde refrescar su tarea ineludible

Altazor morirás Se secará tu voz y será invisible
La tierra seguirá girando sobre su órbita precisa
Temerosa de un traspiés como el equilibrista sobre el alambre que ata las miradas
del pavor
En vano buscas ojo enloquecido
No hay puerta de salida y el viento desplaza los planetas

Found this in an old word document. I don't even remember writing it.

Within the office shrinking
collapsed star, but no pull
Fluttering from room to room
A bird with no perch

At night he walks.
The streets are hushed.
No eyes on the back of his neck.
No whispers in his ear.
His steps are sure
each breath a feeling of expansion

>>23375702
>my friend says that free verse [...] only exists in english
Absolutely wrong. Giacomo Leopardi, one of the most famous italian poets of all times, also wrote in free verse sometimes

>>23312477
Lads how do you manage sending out poetry to places? I've submitted to fuckton of places, gotten nearly all rejections but two times I received a personalized email from an editor stating that they enjoyed my submissions but it didn't quite fit the theme for the edition and that they'd liked me to submit to them next time. That's a little encouraging, and indicates to me that my poetry isn't complete utter shit. so now I just want to find some place for it. How do I find the right mag, that I feel is a right standard for certain pieces?

>>23375702
wtf are you talking about. most of this shit is free verse

It is summer and the fireplace is empty
It is dawn and I am here alone
Today I am nowhere, tomorrow I am nowhere
I have had time to ponder the earth
I have grown great in knowledge, I have reached heavenliness
I have become a human and a primate, I am noble

My body is the center of the universe, I am massive, I am gravity
I face the sun, I rest my back on the ground
The ants pause to watch me, I am the man they have missed
I know that life is the sun kissed mud, and its balm on my hands
From the bones to the skin, in brain and sinew
I am the ancestor of all mankind

My reality ends at my skull
I can feel the skin stretched over the sockets of my skull
My hands are symbols of something
Of my past? I have forgotten it
Mother and father are just words, I’m here
Where the dust gathers

Forever, and the sun becomes whiter and hotter
And the clouds are passing on, and the wind has slowed
The birds are drowned out by the noise of the sun, my nose no longer detects a thing
The mud has dried, and the worms in the mud have dried
My tongue is cut out, my hands have gone limp
Even the earth will become vapor

Consumed, that is consummation
Liberation comes to us all
Saved by the bell, saved, saved,
From? From?
From nothing, I am here again
I have returned

I am the pharaoh of my skull
My skin keeps the worms at bay, how I love the worms
Life can be life and life can be calm
The earth is as great as my life has been long
And all of her creatures are happy and strong
Like the dogs and the deer, and me as I lie on the lawn

>>23377098
I like it overall. It does feel a little bit too Whitman-esque at times, and these two lines are just bad:
>Consumed, that is consummation
>My skin keeps the worms at bay, how I love the worms

>>23377121
>too Whitman-esque
I probably copied him because I don't know how to write longer poems

Don't die apeman, I will save you with my carbon capture gun.

All of the poems I write are deeply personal and use word I invented. I can't post them here.

Personally I pooped my pants
I had my pants on my person
My person emitted foul rants
Poop forgotten by cursing

>>23378724
it’s anonymous, though

>>23380252
I have too much of a personality for this website, honestly. It shows in my poems which actually have a sense of humor.

>>23380450
that’s a shame. I’d like to read your poetry.

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Ok, so I have no idea how poetry works and I grabbed the first poem I saw that my untrained eye/ear thought might be halfway decent.
So, can someone explain to me how this poem constitutes as a poem? Like
>syllable's are inconsistent
>no rhyme
>inconsistent word count
I’m just lost as to how one can find words written in down in such a way as inspirational. I mean don’t get me wrong, it kinda makes sense to me but how is this example considered a poem?

>>23381823
>henlo i am very emotion and relationships. nakedness, sun, bodies, opening up, chests, breathing.
The lack of structure is part of the expression, chaotic like the feelings being expressed. It's about emotional impressions not telling a story or explaining something.
But it's also boring and only appeals to vapid women. It should be about something cool like horses and swords.

The thunder speaks
To those who listen
The wave comes
The pain it hums
Echoing in the distance
A sound of no resistance
And then a silence
It lasts but a minute
Washing over seas of grass
It roars to life
Churning and tearing
That which once was low
Twisted and torn to pieces

Little dandelion that sprouted from crack!
Would you say that it is gay to like you so?
Not just as happy, but as a homosexual also.
God i love plants and nature and shit
I would cum in them had i had permit.
From the glorious force that know
every tiny thing that do so grow.
From ere to there all cities and stuff.
I honestly cannot get this shit enough.
The two faces of this coin does me split
Obviously i meant the sidewalk when i said crack.
May one take a puff off of your spliff.
Neer id advise one to smoke crack.
Unless you want your phallus stiff.

Spring: The castle
immaculate, scrubbed clean
like a naughty child,
A kingfisher pairs off
with the moon
among the willows.
The yellow, cream and blue
of a slow-moving,
two-carriage train
thread the hedges
of six-marginal
constituencies that
saved it from the axe.
Fflur's kitten Bluebell
mistakes the distant chime
of an ice-cream van
for a bird,
looking up
at the trees,
stalking.
Crwys's donkey
eats my poems
through an open window.
The bluebells
from castle to castle
make Wordsworth's
'daffodils' a child's
posy.

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Examining bacteria by means of oculars
Extends a somewhat of a scene familiar.

Perhaps a course has turned to streaming,
Perhaps the piece was pushed too far,
But it reminds us of the helix,
Though the object's now a bar.

In life I've missed just two things typically:
The first I call the object of my orb;
The second's termed the target of my tool.

Christmas

A banquet scuppered
By a carving knife,
Six inches deep
In the turkey's breast.

She wails:
'Don't you dare,
Don't you dare'.

My eyes hold her stare;
Perhaps it is the stuffing,
Or too many glasses.
The children are scared.

Cabernet is in the wood
As Mary says to me:
'Get out of this fucking house
And don't come back'.

No time for small gifts
In this eleventh hour:
A sorry ending
To my nativity

>>23382591
You should write a poem in this style that’s not about sex

>>23383117
It's not about sex. It's about the similarities between how delicate you have to be when zooming in with a microscope and how gently you have to move your dick if you need to adjust while taking a piss but don't want to miss the bowl. If you overshoot the amount of force necessary, you just fuck up.

>>23382416
very nice.

>>23383135
The bowl is huge nigga, do you have motor dysfunction

>>23384209
I'm guessing you don't have foreskin.

>>23382416
Splendid

I've been wrong whole my life
I was wrong in thinking that "I must be wrong"
wrong i was not, I was right all along

(Im angry and so i think people all along were not correct, i know now i must have conviction in myself, this is a good poem and if you think otherwise your opinion does not matter)

I found it hard,
It's hard to find,
Oh well,
Whatever,
Nevermind.

>>23385488
Nothing else kirk did came close the effortless sublimity of these lines.