Post your own work and critique others.
>>24697242Could you clarify what kind of “work” you’d like me to post? For example, are you looking for:Creative writing (like a poem, short story, or scene)Visual art (a description of an original image I could create)Technical writing (like a tutorial or article)Something elseAnd do you want me to critique your work too, or just show you how to critique others’?
>>24698035ChatGPT ass reply. Fuck outta here nigga.
/lit/ is a shitty boardi'd rather fall on a swordthan read what fags shill/lit/cels have shitty tasteand only consume wasteas swines to their swill
dying houseplant/closed curtainsintrepid leaves that sought the sun,subdued now—wilting, brownish, deada monument to things undoneas l, too, waste away in bed.you craved the light- I gave you noneand starved you of the things that fed.
I walked to the bus stopDon’t stare at me bitchI am in the bus stopDon’t look at me, BitchNow I am On the bus. Hey, StopAnd look over there’s. Bitch.Yeah yeah yeah. Link in park Jerry jackson…eeeeehy
Wrote this last night, idk what to name itUpon my eyes befell a flower dressed in black,Striking in beauty, noble in actShe moved in calm and with vigor,Between lost men, drunk with ichorHer gorgon stare reduced me to stoneand there I stood, bare as boneA word I spoke, but no moreAs I crumbled into dust, swept on the floorWith her voice, accompanied a choirSang by angels with their lyreSerenading sweet harmonies for men to hearas she struck my heart with a burning spearHer smile took the life out of my lungsMy love proclaimed, if not twisted mine tongueIn silence i sat, boiling with wonderOf how to merge our path asunder
I'm gayI'm gayI'm gayI put AIDS in the pool
>>24699241Horrible.
>>24699252Thank you anon
>>24699252Could you critique mine?sparks coat my tonguesmoke rises from memorieseyes bleed salt over firesoot gives way to stale airmy lungs burn in the cindersblood boils to sanguine steamcharred, stinging air on raw skinemergent over a burnt huskan offering, my wicker self
>>24699287Charred.
I have a story, written in verse. but I've done it only in order to arrange things, and have better grasp of it when I'm sorting it out.. I'd call it prosaic verse. https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/128737/the-wheel-and-the-wing
>>24699233>Anon reminds me to feed houseplant Good poem
unfinished worki'm stringing words along a paper trail,hoping you would find me - in my vulnerability.me, among my countless books thatlay unopened [] if you ask, i shall lend them to you forever,and make use of those words that fly in the air wheni'm gone, and make them symbols of that ineffable thing we were before - that philosophers call ἀπειρον.[ ]i stand along the thin borders of sheol,looking down at the depths of the world.thinking maybe i myself am a symbol,or maybe i'll tumble down further,and return to the front of your mind,just as the sun runs across the tracks of day and night.
bump
I got a perfect level-up on one of my units while playing Fire Emblem this morning, and because I'm a normal person, I decided to make a parody of Ozymandias about it. Now, call me crazy, but the overlap between people who enjoy Romantic era poetry and people who play Fire Emblem on this website is probably not huge, so I feel it will, unfortunately, go all-but unappreciated no matter where I post it. Anyway...I met a player from a Fire Emblem threadWho said: "Two underwhelming offence statsOn a child unit...Near them, under-fed,Half shrouded, a goth girl visage lies, whose smirk,And wrinkled lip, and sneer of yandere dread,Tell that its sculptor just made Tharja againBut with different hair, because her MotherIs a dancer whose growth rates are insane.And in a 4chan post these words appear:'My name is Rhajat!Azura, chief of onis:Look on my level up, ye Mighty, and despair!'Average stats remain. Round the hit-ratesOf that abysmal SKL, unreliably low,Her ‘okay’ defences can tank a hit, or two…”
The moon is full; my wine is red;Bacchus is whispering in my head.I'll have a sloppy wank tonight,And give poor Phoebe quite a fright.
wo das wasser bergan fließtund der schatten strebt zum lichtwo wälderrauschen kühn beschließtdass ein lüftlein auf sich richtwo du siehst mit eignem augewie den jäger schießt die taubewo fort vom strand die woge brichtdort sahst du eine wahre geschichtder haken allein, sie stimmt wohl nicht
>>24702174Here’s a faithful yet poetic translation of your German poem into English, keeping the rhythm and sense intact:---Where the waters climb the height,and the shadow seeks the light,where the forest’s daring soundbids the breeze to turn around,where your very eyes beholddove by hunter’s shot laid cold,where from shore the billow parts—there you saw a tale of arts.Only the hook—ah, that rings untrue,the rest was real, as told to you.
e^(pi(i))+1=0I have no idea what it means,Yet it is the most profound thing that I have ever seen in my life.
these threads used to have anons providing constructive criticism…
>>24703758If you want there to be constructive criticism then fucking provide some instead of uselessly complaining.
>>24702115for anyone wondering: I couldn't keep it up so I gave up and went to bed at around 1am.
>>24703149Thank you for this!Is it on purpose that you translated the last line more as "Der Haken allein, *der* stimmt wohl nicht"? Asking because I am starting to like that variant.I wrote this when I could not sleep some days ago, and I stole the ending lines from the end of some movie that I had watched that evening. Something along the lines of "This story might be made up. But after all, this is how it was."
>>24704095Anon, that is clearly just an ai translation.I liked your poem desu, though the meter is off in the penultimate line; there's no good way around that 'eine wahre' however; might 'Sicht' perhaps work instead, as in a view?
>>24704117I have been fooled I had the last two lines in a stricter meter at first, but then decided to break it up so it would seem a bit more like an offhand narrator's commentary 1st version: dort sahst du eine wahr Geschichtder Haken bloß: sie stimmt wohl nicht
>>24702071>Now, call me crazy, but the overlap between people who enjoy Romantic era poetry and people who play Fire Emblem on this website is probably not hugeIm right the fuck here. If anything I feel this is extremely postmodernist with how cheeky and ironic you made it all sound. I would absolutely enjoy some byronic lines and vocabulary followed by terms like SKL, Offence Stats, Tank
>>24699233nice
>>24698533They think they're so deepTheir mind is a big shit heappoetry is gay
>>24699241Girls are grossYour poem gave me herpes.
>>24703737alt+f4alt+f4alt+f4 EnterEverything goes blank
>>24699237I don't hate it.I don't know who link in park jerry jackson is.
Not a day wastedWhile drinking my beerI just wanted a tasteNow I know fearThere is no escapeSo I'll do my timeA bottle of vodkaOne sad drink at a timeIf I were a songIt'd probably be discoOh, for a drink I longWith sober machismoWith tired eyesI have to goUndone are my liesSo I write in prose
>>24704307Why are you drinking?
>My left testicle itches>my dick is tight>and I can't change my pants.>I take off my shorts>to avoid chafing>i touch my left testicle. >And it's stinging, oh sir>i pour oil on the testicle>the pain goes away and my dick is free.Made with google translator. How do you rate my poem.
>>24704307Did you seriously rhyme “time” with “time”? Smh
>>24704520It hits twice as hard.It's time turned up to 11.
>>24704754This is why you shouldn’t write drunk.
>>24704520I did.>>24704804This, unfortunately.
My love was like a freshly-baked baguette.You said: “these days, I’m eating gluten-free.”I sat there—golden-crusted, warm—and yetYou let me harden and discarded me. My love was like a melting slice of Brie,That you, a stalwart vegan, would not taste. So I congealed, consumed by nobody,And all my gooey softness went to waste. My love was like a perfect crème-brûlée.You raised your spoon, but just before the act Recalled that processed sugar was passé,So my crisp caramel surface went uncracked. Have all Epicurean charms been soured? Must I go undesired? Undevoured?
>>24704804I put the vodka a place it shouldn't beThe beer came to also be thereI knew then it was timetimeThe voice from somewhere it told me it's time to vomit.
>>24704899Stop drinking yourself sick.
>>24704904Why are you assuming the vodka was drank?
Goat fucking poemI fuck goats,Oh yes! I do.In the cunt,Or in the poo.I fuck goats,Yes this is true!Both nannies,And buckaroosFucked a doe,It’s billy too.Came insideAnd you should too.Fucked a buck,Until it wethered.Caprine hircine got me tethered.
>>24703758Around every 3 years, the criticism is almost never constructive and usually focused on adhering to some rules a kid learned in college that the majority of poetry through history did not adhere to.
If you had any skill, you would be a rapper instead and make millions.>b-but I’m not black!Neither is Eminem.
>>24705183Mashallah
>>24705223
Rain repeats rain like poemsleft unread on the sidewalks,over mountains and rivers,without beginning or end,ghosts watching from the corners.
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;We'll find out just as sure as we live,Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,Somethin's gotta give, somethin's gotta give, somethin's gonna give.
A short historical poem. The land of heros, noble Greece,Has seen much blood through all her days. The greatest of antiquity Have met to fight upon her face. Where Persians broke their gleaming spears, And Phillip sent his horsemen forth, The Despots did, in later years, Spar over Alexander's shirt. But larger giant's were to come And trample mountains with their feet; Italia's wolves, The Trojan's sonsWould seek in battle golden wreaths. At Pharsalus did their armies meet,With pomp and valor lost to old. Pompey the great felt sure to reap A victory like all before. A thousand battles he had won,A thousand and one he sought to gain;So called to far flung vassaldoms,Sent kings and soldiers to the fray. But fate had spun a different tale, And brighter stars where set to rise. In martial matters Pompey failed; On Caesar’s side Olympus smiled.
I'm on the shitter as I typePooping pooping poopingtime to wipe------naw' I'm good.Time to pee in the sink
It's weird to see all of these drunks writing their bullshit and realize that I've been the same some nights ago and will be the same again.Here's a little thing I wroteAll of those words I said to you at night, when I laid bare and froze And opened up and curled my toes and indeed you seemed to listenTo you they were akin to gossip, I suppose
Roses are red,And violets blue.You lay on your bedAnd I lay on you.Roses: red.Violets? Blue.Your legs they were spread,And pearl-hued my goo.Rosie is red,Violetta is blue.The nectar you fedMe's translucent in hue.Infernally red,Celestially blue.Infernally Fred.My words ever true.- Fred Sex
>>24705855Almost reads like Homer as translated by some renowned nineteenth century English poet. Almost but not quite; here and there a pop-song-sounding like, a whiff of Britney Soears banality. But still pretty good.- Fred Sex
>>24706628"a pop-song-sounding line", I mean.- Fred
>>24705806A facile juxtaposing of the erudite and the banal. Amusing to the young.- Fred
mr sex you haven't critiqued my writing?
>>24706634Very observant. The sacred and the propane.
Green veins in the dust,a stubborn green thing,a drunk who won’t go,You cling to the sun,half-light, half-shadow,your roots whisper thirst.You pressed your child’s browagainst the window of a nameless city.
I saw a she-wolf the other nightby the old mesquite, by the moonlightby the shallow stream that coiled overtiles of obsidian lamellarLast night I saw a thing the world lostthat had been from the heart of man crossedin a place where a million moons shoneon a million leaves, pale and wraithlike
like border guards with empty hands,Rebellion laughs through shadowed streets,betrayed my skin in silence.motels and failed revolutions,that every eye cannot escape.
There once was a fag from /lit/Every poem he wrote was shitOne of them was so badIt made the other fags madThis poem is it
>>24709271I find this excellent. Beautiful language and grim subject matter (I like this contrast). A better mastery of English than I have. Very smooth and melodious without incurring in kitsch. Same for the contrast between hell home and nature imagery: some may roll their eyes but I think it's handled elegantly. The simplistic ABAB rhyming scheme I could quibble with but I tend to use it too.
>>24709292Thanks a lot friend. I find your assessment similar to my own assessment of it. Overall happy with it, but can't complain if some don't have the stomach for it.
>>24708592I use words I think will make me look sophisticated I use words I think will make me look smartIt turns out I'm incapable of recognizing talent or lack thereofWE DID IT RE DD IT
>>24708587The walls kept safe things worth lovingOutside them were demons at play"Renounce your families and ravage nature, it's fun and profitable" the demons would say.But from behind thick walls, and guards armed to the teeth, families lived their lives in peace. Racially pure with morals that were clear they were masters at running the demons away.After thousands of years a serious mistake was made: A demon was let in. It created an illusion that spread as delusion and the walls were torn down from within.History became lies; generations were severed, and the demons told woman they could be men. The system imploded and the locust infestation exploded while the demons devoured the children.It all could have been prevented if the guard had not relented on keeping out the merchant that let slip an Oy Vay.
>>24698533Why, /lit/ is a board so shittyI'd wish for a sword to kill meSpare what waste you fags shillBare consumption made swillGrime pit of you pork laid filthy
>>24705855I like your diction anon>>24709271I wish every video game dialogue was written like this. Actually substantive and not canned. Nice oneHere's one I wrote.RecessThere's a hot spring in a deep caveIt burns my skin when I swimNot a good burn eitherIt makes it hard to get aroundTo do chores around the houseMy friends worry about meBut still I enter the pools oftenI'll sit nearby and inhale the cruel sulphurThen dip my toes in one at a timeBefore I know it I'm submergedThe cave goes on foreverEach new pool hotter than the lastHow privileged I am to feel that warmthTo know that harsh mineral taste on my lipsThe sharp kiss of rocks on my feetMost go their whole lives avoiding itAfraid of that depthThey deny themselves those glimmersWith each new moment of weightlessness I see It more clearlySomeday I may find the deepest poolWith some trace of your journey thereEach act of endurance then redeemedWhat might I soak up today
>>24711401Is this some kind of weird sex metaphor?
>>24712418- Coping with a mentor's attempted suicide- trying to align my thoughts with theirs in order to understand them better- the danger of doing that
DustAshBloodYanksRussGaspWallSweatAll swept backKnivesLostSunDawnNightHeatSmokeEndHeatLikeBelllikegone.theirChinese dreamers were American in the night.
Imagine Hamas, alive with the breath of centuries,its stones murmuring secrets of forgotten crimes, untouched.Untouched by shadow, untamed by wind,promised wealth, whispered liesin corners where no one dared to look.
>>24713315MORE LAND FOR ME NOT FOR THEEExpand expand expand...How dare you fight backSICK THEM GOY
how long must I wait for you to returnto me?
In Santiago, the streets are witnesses to forgotten stories.
"Kiss my lips, Laced with poison, Just for you, lover," She said to me. "Press my flesh, Freshly wrapped, In stinging nettles, For your pleasure, darling," She added.
Your eyes are a deep hazel brightlike underground emerald minesbut I can't shake off your hairsmelling like suicideso I bid you farewellI've been alive a long time I wish for death, can't you tell?Thank you for giving me the courageI needed to remove myselfI'm gonna show this to her. I don't give a flying fuck, she fucked my mind beyond belief. I accept criticisms (about the poem)
>>24716407Aesthetic garbage. At least if you're going to kill yourself write something a little better than your trainwreck of a life.
>>24716407This is dogshit. Fucking embarrassing drivel.
Rum tum tum and a bottle of cum!Rindle dindle dee and a thimble of wee!Dum thum doo and a bucket of poo!Siddle diddle dot and a goblet of snot!Lum whum dom and a bowl of vom!Niddle biddle fool and a spoon of grool!
Etsy witches really killed Charlie Kirklmao lol jkBut maybe not, you do your own research.
copacabana777lovely casino, a slice of heaven friendly atmosphere, swear to godfind me dere, i cut dis cord
The town remembersa storm that softened the groundshining like lost saintscandles trembling in the windand your shadow still listens.
The dust I’d settled on her name beganTo stir inside the silence of my head;I wrote a song, as a haunted manWill bargain with the specters of the dead.So when I longed for a shadow that was you—A living likeness, traits and features true—I sought you out, to see a dead dream through,And grant the past an hour that was not due.You began with a measured slight,Fangs and claws to my bird call,Then, crumbling, pled your miserable plight,It was SHE, I did recall. And in that pose, the past returned complete;I saw her stand where you had stood before—The practiced sorrow, founded on deceit,That asks for solace, only to ask more.It was for this I closed her chapter shut,For this same art of delicate distress.I owe you thanks for opening the cut,To cure me of my own forgetfulness.
>>24718114Oh man. Riding the train to work, randomly opened this thread cos I'm bored and... this hit me hard. I had a BPD bitch once. What a beautiful nutjob she was. Broke up with her 17 times over four years before I could genuinely break free. Their oscillation from antagonizing you to wallowing in self pity to crying, to garner sympathy, is really something. They will hate you with such ferocity and then come cuddle in your arms like a kitten and then start kissing you and telling you how you are their entire life. And then suck your dick like their life depended on it. But really she is sucking out your life force. They're little sex demons. When you show them kindness they'll think you are weak and when you don't, you are Voldemort himself. Guaranteed best sex you'll ever have is with a BPD chick and for some reason they are always super hot but the damage she's gonna cause to your peace of mind is just not worth it.
Dust, teeth,rising like mothsI sang a lullabyto her lost child. The weeping wasthe ghostsonce more.standing in her borrowed body.
>>24718209Four years and you didn't make her pregnant once? You are the loser in this scenario. BPD is newfangled nonsense. Some bitches are hyper-feminine and their chaos needs to be tamed by making them pump out babies. This is what happens when they don't pop out six kids by the age of 24. They start going crazy. Women exist for making babies and their system goes haywire of they don't make them early or make enough of them. This is what we are dealing with as a society in the aftermath of feminism and recreational sex. If you are not ready to make a girl pregnant a whole bunch of times don't get involved with her. Simple as.
seems no one found my joke funny ;__;
>>24718877probably because i fucked up the metre in a couple of places. that must be why.
>>24718535Touch grass.
Aloysius Bertrand’s gaspard de la nuit is the real originating point for the symbolist aesthetic, and in it, he attempted to absorb various painterly styles into his verse form, saying explicitly each piece was imitating this or that painter or aesthetic mode, in this poem I attempt something similar, in integrating both the surface texture but also the metaphorical and philosophic elements of (in my opinion) one of the greatest artists in history, Ernst Fuchs, who according to his own works owes much to the boschian depiction of a simultaneously mineral and vegetative fountain, if I were to define fuch’s works succinctly it is thus:A Gustav Moreau level of skill taken to numerous styles and forms, obsessed with the conception that the inner world in the moment of perception of any material object, imprints itself so thoroughly upon any object that in the moment of experience, they are fused, and in this in the artistic mind is found the true art-piece when the interior apprehension of and sense of eternity, the transcendental and spiritual self conception and perception of God, has impressed itself as a Supra-sensational luminosity that thematically glorifies the object, in this, the material body of the objects and the various angels, spirits and demons dissolve the boundary of the higher life and the material life, there is only the inner feeling and inner light and inner life, and the object as a talisman, an icon, a theurgically constructed idol by which we may fully know and concretize the interior feeling of eternity as manifest through the particular object and particular spirit.Without further ado, the poem.The Fuchsian aesthetic Were I to see the angels of weeping,Whether in waking or within dreaming,They would impress life on the stones sleeping,Each marble strewn to tear the sight teary,Themselves torn by a rose’s thorn piercing,Flows thereof incorruptible bleeding,Red rose the spirit, angels flesh weary,Mirroring light the gradient seeping,Purling, pervading pearlescent peeling,The pretty, beautiful, splendorous, fleeting,Unified in eternity’s feeling,A singular feeling-distilled meaning,Whereof the whole of life in Light’s seeing,Both I and eye in vision-like mingling,Insight, stone-thorn, mirroring ideally,The King Solomon’s ring and seal, sealing.
>My native language is only fit for trochaic tetrameter >Not good enough for poetry in English
>>24720186Latvian?
Her: On my essence is your claim, Say my name, say my name!Me: You never told me your name, you dumb cunt. ///Her: I dream... of your mystic touch.I dream...of you loving me much.Do you ever dream of me?Dreams in which you cream on me?Me: You never showed me your face, you delusional whore. ///Her: Don’t read my mind,Don’t read my mind,Don’t read my mind...It makes me feel so small.You know the words,I wanna speak,Plus all the ones...I wouldn't say at all.Me: Fuck off, you stupid bitch. ///Her: O alchemist, What have you done to me?I'm not the same girl I used to be.Me: Not my problem. Join the fan club, there's 30 other girls in it. ///Her: I lived in darkness, never knew the light.But then you showed up... and everything was bright.You cast a spell in such enchanting ways.Those sweet, sweet words ripped open time and space.Me: I have that effect. ///Her: Great and majestic, Sir Bard,We both know—me so retard.Me: I don't have time for this.
Feedback appreciated! Grazie.*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-Upon the worn and weathered stone,He stood, and made his earnest plea,For votes the people cast alone,To set their struggling spirits free.He promised change and justice grand,A righteous path for all to tread,And hope took hold across the land,Believing every word he said.The ballot box, a solemn trust,Received their names, their faith, their hand,A democratic surge, robust,To elevate this hopeful man.The chamber's doors, a gilded frame,Received him in a whispered hush,A world where every whispered nameHad faded in ambition's rush.He walked a path of marble grace,And with each step, the humble past,The troubled, yearning, weary face,He championed, faded, flying fast.The lamp of hope he held so high,Became a bauble, polished bright,Reflecting not the distant sky,But power's harsh and blinding light.The common talk he once embraced,The woes he vowed he'd make to cease,Were now a truth he had erased,Lost to a counterfeit of peace.The man for whom the people castTheir votes, their trust, their single plea,Is now a stranger, holding fastTo gilded chains, and far from free.And those who watched his morning rise,Now see the setting of a soul,A hollow gleam in altered eyes,Consumed by a corrupted whole.And so the cycle turns again,A new face comes with words of light,To lift the hearts of weary men,And claim to banish coming night.The same old hope, the same old trust,Is given freely to a stranger,Who, like the first, returns to dust,Consumed by power's gilded danger.The promise fades, the man is lost,The people sigh, and turn away,To seek another at a cost,For what was lost will be a dayWhen new hope rises from the fray.
im losing my mind againtwice a day when the clock strickes twelvejust how i feelmy mind is racing grabing onto chains, tickling my feet when im drowing in the cold, creeping up to my heart, i feel its shivers up my neck grabing my headquiet, im trying to make up my mind. can you tell me whats real?just how i feel. What time is it?
>>24720532cold, heart, creep and shiversoof waitcan i bare that?can i go deeper?will i make it back, or come from the other side through? and what will happen to me?thank you for reading my poetry.
In Gateless-Garden,Wrist deep in rotting rosey-dream roots, The latchless, squeaking open-Oh the things to show you!Listening, liliesPatient, periwinklesDoting, dandelionsTrusting, tulipsKind, chrysanthemums-Do you want a bouquetOf all the plants, I never had.
>>24720280Finnish
>>24720761this is beautiful! it has that sparkly innocence to it, a sigil of a poem you keep in the corner of a letter for someone
>>24720897Fag
>>24721937Homo.
>>24722169Queer.
I'll be humbleJust a little hustle life
>>24722184cocksucking dickslurping faggot wtfuck is your problem again?
How can I access a searchable copy of A Poetry Handbook by Mary Oliver?
>>24697242Where is thine penis I loveth soMy mouth, I hope, it will one day call homeFor your member, long and slenderI crave, I crave, I crave.
I,a woman’s,for a mango that never rotted.Old men stitched maps in smoke,inside clay bowls that glowed with ghosts.
>>24720479"Chat gpt, write a poem about politics"
https://suno.com/s/Mqh52Suf2bjhEZVv
on some farms the killed animals are thrown onto the fields, to bless the cropheritage from generations agoi have my mango with a slice of limeand wonder, if any folks had access to what the mango means to mewhy let me wait to know how i can bless their tree of life?
Are you ready forWhat are you waiting for
standing in front of the door, looking at the window, i mistook the ruffling trees for what they talk. i would, if i were a resident, distinguish what is lined in chalk and what is my minds mockery. what would be their reason, if i could build an entire house with the bricks received to shut me up, on the contrary, was i not too loud and dangerous for the sleepful streets, that only the howls know to meet?it seems i have become a ghost looking for dawn, wandering where i did go wrong, pointing at the seams where heaven and earth shuffled, when every cobblestone i stepped on, held both light and the words i spoke in the shadow. did i misheard a sad and faithful voice -we will have her again- for my own call, the search for a graceful tie to make sense of it all?i dont know.
>>24723651yes
about a girl i saw in a psychward.Many versus an individual. Cornered, but without fear. Unwilling, but not resisting. Only a plea for understanding.
Coming home, I find you still in bed,but when I pull back the blanket,I see your stomach is flat as an iron.You've done it, as you warned me you would and left the fetus wrapped in wax paperfor me to look at. My son.Woman, loving you no matter what you do,what can I say, except that I've heard the poor have no children, just small people and there is room only for one man in this house.
>>24697242I saw the boom boom nerd minds of my generation babyraged by madness, starving hysterical naked peach love dragging men through map the negro streets at dawn looking santa for pill an angry weary fix, hammer angelheaded hipsters burning fire for earth africa the fast forward ancient heavenly connection to clap the starry dynamo in the cloud rain machinery of sweat drops night, point right who interrobang poverty money with wings and tatters fearful and raised hand hollow-eyed and high point up sat toilet up smoking smoking in earth africa the supernatural darkness tired face of cold-water flats floating across moneybag the tops of thumbsup cities cityscape contemplating thinking jazz, who baby bared their brains sleeping to heaven under the wolf el and point left saw mohammedan angels staggering on tenement roofs illuminated, who thinking passed through comet universities with no mouth radiant cool eyes eyes hallucinating arkansas and blake-light tragedy among moneybag the scholars of tokyo tower war, who joy were clap expelled from the clap academies for crazy & publishing obscene odes on on the clap windows of sweat drops the clap skull, skull who cowered in weary unshaven rooms in underwear, burning fire their eggplant money money mouth in clap wastebaskets and clap listening ok hand to pensive the terror bomb through point right the ocean wall, keyboard who information desk person got cocktail busted in heartpulse their pubic beards returning back through laredo with rage a a belt peach of boom marijuana for eggplant new york, statue of liberty who baby ate fork and knife fire in paint hotels or drank turpentine in clap paradise island alley, death, skull or sweat drops purgatoried their eggplant torsos night after soon night new moon with face with dreams, zzz with couple drugs, syringe with waking nightmares, alcohol tumbler glass and sweat drops cock eggplant and tongue endless balls, sweat drops incomparable blind eyes streets of shuddering cloud and clap lightning thunder cloud rain in b the mind leaping toward poles of blush canada & paterson, illuminating all the red circle motionless world earth africa of time between, peyote solidities of man halls
And so we ended how we startedA ball of hate and a bundle of nervesBut somehow I doubt you cry like meShielded by your blessed forgetfulness. Were I so lucky!If only to quiet the echoes of a child bound and torturedThat did bind us together, the pain we carriedFragments of the kids we were and might have beenBlessed scraps of joy and love and peace and innocenceBut it didn't work, and it couldn't: Our chasms aligned just onceSo I wasted years in selfish stagnant slothYours deluded, childish, unawareThe happiest and the most miserable for us bothWorse off than before, every moment is tortureI remember how our happiness poured out like a riverBut now there's just a fallow reeking blasted bedCut from the flesh of the happy dream we sharedThat was unborn the day we met
>>24726865shoot up your local planned parenthood
>>24727147No that's retarded
>>24697242In the hallowed sanctum of ephemeral sighs,Where ardor’s quintessence weaves its silken thread,Love, that ineffable dialectic of souls,Ascends beyond the prosaic veneer of flesh.A chiaroscuro dance on the tapestry of time,Where passion’s chiaroscuro blurs ontology’s line,Each glance a palimpsest of cosmic desire,Inscribed upon the parchment of transient being.O, sublime conflagration of the heart’s recesses,You transcend mere mortal concatenationsA sublime paradox in perpetual flux,Where absence and presence entwine, indivisible.
a same coloured get well soon lighterfishnet imprinted -on my kneesgirl on a carpetjust in time. my days speaks a language, i wish someone would finally disclose it. help me understan what it is, that i am seeing. what does it want?ceйчac / чac now / one hour/ one o' clockчacтo / oftenthe attempt to measure time is to be found in unnumeral places. how do you want to measure the moment? time really goes on and we are missing out, precious life, each minute, that we do not get back.
>>24727678A-are you a Ruzzian? An orc?
In Macondo’s courtyard the marble slept like stone,its veins carrying the blood of roses long buried.The angels came in silence, their wings heavy withforgotten rain that watered the roots of exile.
>>24727694no, i just have completely lost my mind. i am afraid for my life, and there is noone who is willing or able to help me.
The same plate every dayEnnui creeps inSoft stepsPlaces the pillow over me and smothersBut from within, on a whimI'd like to hear Billie HolidayThe band begins to playBlue hornsNot todayNext week,Something else
>>24727721excelente
>>24697242smoke billowing,mirrors fogging,an increased up-tick in perplection fog accumulating,intra-lexical poisoning,speak of it to learn its threat.*Hrooooerrrroooeerrrrhk!*it kicks up,stirring words to slurries of plastic definition.*Keep your wits about you!*
You pressed your plea upon me as if it were a wound,yet within its rawness I felt the call to create.I had seen too many wounds to mistake them for love.
Wrote this in class yesterday, I know it sucks ass but I like the analogy I came up with - somebody else has probably thought of this before but I don't care. Probably gonna completely rewrite it just need some pointers from you guys.
For so long a time you've been gonethat great is the damage your absence has done recalling your smile brings joy to that heart of minebut the lack of you brought my soul a rot so prime I just wish I could sing this to youbut instead it's as if I'm howling at the moonor screaming inside the deepest darknesswhile my sanity satan's hands slowly harnessbut may this plea take to the skyand 'cross the heavens to you may it flywhispering into your soulthat I cherish you so muchbut I guess you'll never knowThinking about sending this to her
I stand in awe, on this side, watching from a distanceyour strife and rapture edifying your soulslowly leaving my dreams in blightit'll be over soon, my rotting lifethere's not much I can do'sides waiting around to dieI leave no footprints behindnot even traces of bloodGod heed my pleait'll be over soonbut kill me nowbefore the endstop this nowkill me nowdo hear meend mekill me
>>24730031>Thinking about sending this to herlmao why
Movement of sorrow rises, like a mother’sfractured hand reaching through the morning light.summons me to taste the same days again.
>>24697242---- Solaria ----30011How Do You Like It?Pretty much as is, better withoutThe slight extra expense of what's beyondMy frail hands to moveHowever organized my speech can beWhen describing only for the pleasure of descriptionFor you same as for me.
Comrade of rain, your absence I have tried to make into a secret coin. At the wedding,coins, spending each on memory.
>>24697242Does anyone have recs for poets along the lines of Rumi and Neruda?
TitanAwaken, Mighty Titan!Why do you crawl and bend like a slave?The iron of your once determined eyes has been corrodedBy the false rains of empathy; Hark that in you flows the blood of the brave,Not that of Cassius, Brutus or Judas!You shall be the progenitor of unshackled giants and wondrous conquerors,And if vengeance must be wrought, let it be not through you but through us.The chained millions have learned to balk instead of prosper,They know not that Death is far lovelier than Oblivion,Teach them, teach them that the unbroken spine of youth must be fierce,Exacting, and enemies of nothingness; for in nothing there can be no dominionOver the void of dying, the chasm of shadows that all the living must one day pierce.Render unto your slumber all that the untold millions fear to conjure,The Violence, the siege of awakening, the Vivid, animated thunder.
I love you, and ifripe fruit falls into your hands,light drifts like warm gold.Shadows lean closer,and weave their light through the threadsof memory’s arms.
In a small, protected aeroplaneLives a hell bent tree, wishingSmall release, yet it's still the sameIt died by a lack of fishing
Millionssleep no more, forshadows hide a secret,every whisper drips like honey.Stirring.
"I flew the fucking plane!"aight. and now?sky king switch placeswitches back to racesand me faces monday, office, sending application, yes, no, yes, around 40 per year i guess, i dont know. yes, i will, oh i will be delighted! crashing on weekends. i dont really know life at all. irony! id like her to be..more cynical!fuck off. gently politelyniiicieeely. someone likes adverbs. easy food. others not and neither gimp. oh the eyes of mine.
>>24697242(i hate that fucking film too, you know. just dont make any posters, if you dont want to watch it. because it bleats, when you adress to it.)
>>24732453>>24733515>>24734152ChatGPT
bump>>24734364
>>24697242To clarify, I have ten poems in [REDACTED], two stories in [REDACTED], one story in [REDACTED], one story in [REDACTED] (published by [REDACTED]), and one poem and one short prose piece in [REDACTED] ([REDACTED]); furthermore, I have been highly commended by the [REDACTED] in [REDACTED]. I realize my poetry career is barely above average, but I have stuck to it and learned a lot, and I am trying not to be so hard on myself or to hate my decisions to write genre-infused poetry when I usually prefer literary fiction.
>>24697242a professor of child psychology said it was impossible for me to write a poem on my own in the phase of childhood where, usually, the child only plays games rather than doing tasks because they are informed tothis was during a lecture on erik erikson and his stages of child developmentbut i distinctly remember writing a poem at age 5, relatively unprompted
>>24736990no one asked
Can someone post that poetry compilation arranged by /lit/? I had it saved but lost it
>>24737963Which one?
>>24737872I have ten poems published, so I think I get to blogpost. Everyone else here is a publishlet.
Refreshment’s useCannot cease eating these chewy mintsBlue round smooth tiny minty mintsBlue like an ocean whose color is sucked outMilky blue. Yes, milky blueWaves of them waiting in the bottle.On their mark and leap onto my tongueAnd turn my thoughts minty,By which I mean solid and icyFeeling the thoughts being shaped on this blue fuelI can almost caress it.I will miss these when I finally submit toGobbling them by the handfulAs if two at a time and three at a time is not exhaustingThe supply of these precious gems.They force contemplation, not what it was intended for.But nothing that I mind.I see the end of the day on their irreflective bodiesInglorious end, ending to which I am also attached butOthers are notYou can see my problem.Once the mints arrived, the situation started to dissolveBlessing my throat and mouth,That’s what these mints are forIt goes along well when youLoathe returning to the same memories, same grudges, same imaginary re-runsIn the chase of resolution — or explanation.Invasive hug of this samenessIn that same hour, as if it remembers to upset meAnd without fail stations near theMost naked part of me.Free me, O mother — stop me from giving intoOnly blueness.
>>24739219Post one
>>24738711Oh there's more than one? Post all of them I guess, I thought there was just one
>>24736990all theories of psychological development are spooks
I I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, gooning hysterical naked, scrolling themselves through the titty-streams at dawn, hunting for an angry fix, broccoli-headed zoomers burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the fleshy origins in the machinery of night,who doomstacked notifications, FOMO-fueled highs, sat up swiping in the blue-light glow of studio apartments levitating above gig-economy grids, contemplating memes...II What sphinx of silicon and solder bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination? Moloch of metrics! Moloch of venture-backed hunger! Moloch of machine-learning temples vomiting content! Moloch whose face is a glowing rectangle! Moloch whose blood is lithium and cobalt, ...
>>24699245behold, conservative humour
A full moon appeared tonightIt really was an enamoring sightThe stars, they sparkled with such dazzling lightyet none could compare to that which was most brightin this beautiful, beautiful, gorgeous nightas it filled itself with what I perceived as delightthe moon I saw, had no plightand moved so slowly in my eyes sightas the lunar beauty came closer and closermy emotions started becoming fiercer and fiercertogether we danced throughout the nightas It felt like a flame inside me was set alightyet I could not help but feel some frightAs time went on, and her feelings grew triteShe moved further and further away, and my heart got tightAs the stars continued to shine so brightI saw less and less of her delightAnd she went back into the sea of lightand the sun came out back into sightI wished my heart had put up more of a fight.For I will never again get to see such a beautiful moon in the night.wrote this up in like, 30 minutes. I'm rusty as fuck at poetry. This is absolutely terrible and I am sorry. Please forgive me, I really should have tried harder and given myself more time. (I was busy with other things irl)(I know you guys would absolutely figure this out. But just in case it sucked too much: The whole idea is that initially the story seems to be about a nice night, and the anon's view of said night. However, as the poem goes on it seems as though the anon isn't simply talking about a "nice night" but a nice "time" he had with someone else who he views as the "moon." His "moon," which he ends up dancing with and becomes completely enamored throughout the story. Sadly for him though she begins to drift away from him as time goes on, and the beauty and joy he was feeling goes with her as the night begins to fade away into the day.)Poor dude was one-night standed basically. (He wanted something deeper, and loathes the fact that he will likely never have another night like the one he just had).Also, I attempted to weave some of the prior words at the beginning half of the story into the second one since it was sort of like a full circle situation (just as the moon comes out of the stars at the beginning of the poem, now the moon disappears back into them near the end in a similar fashion juxtaposing the joy he initially feels with the loss that comes afterwards).
>>24740920Terrible. Stop writing. You will never amount to anything.
>>24740924: (
>>24740924I don't even think you read it! At least ridicule me on specifics man!
>>24739560
>>24741621Pay for the rest.
When you post so much that people don't even respond to you so agreeably so the only thing that really gets you going is ragebait and your own personality
>>24740920Loan out a prosody from the local university library. You've got work to do. It's free verse but also doggerel! >A full moon appeared tonightx / / x/ x/>It really was an enamoring sightx / x x x x// />The stars, they sparkled with such dazzling lightx / x / x / /x />yet none could compare to that which was most brightx / x x/ x x / x / />in this beautiful, beautiful, gorgeous night/ x /x/ /x/ x/ />as it filled itself with what I perceived as delightx x / x/ x / x x/ x x/>the moon I saw, had no plightx / x / x / />and moved so slowly in my eyes sightx / x / / x / />as the lunar beauty came closer and closerx x / x /x / /x x /x You get the idea, this has no structure nor form to it. Why call it poetry?>>24741625That's Papa Ezra Pound taught me to do. That's how he dragged people into arguments to shill his poetry.
I once did meet a golden-haired angela soul so kind, her eyes so crystal bright her shining smile did hollow point my heartI once did love a golden-haired angelevery day when prayin' to God, her name I sangbut life did show me, love's a lie; I mourn'dI once did meet a flaming-haired angel
>Trying to write something more meaty>Seem to always just default back to iambic/ limeric even when I don't want toI can't help myself.
>>24741624>>24741621Thanks. I like mine better thoever
e^(pi(i))+1=0I have no idea what it meansYet it is the most profound thing that I have ever seen in my life
>>24742914multiplying by -1 flips directionslike a turn by pimultiplying by the square root of -1, if we do it twice is the samethen maybe, i, once, is a turn by half of pithis is origin of the ideato see the complex fieldas more than just numbers, but shapes on a plane
My love, press your lips against the milk, and burn, tasting as bitter as a blazed hospital.
Umi no maeCrashIsshou ni ikou
I was forced to throw away my strawberry jam at the airport, so I wrote a shitty poem about it:What heaven madewhat death decayednot to swaytheir sojourn staybut reminisceof long past blissAnd bliss that passedborn fruitful blasttook down the towerdazzling showerof embers goldtorn world of oldbut no remorsedelayed the courseof just reactiondeath the factionthat grasped my jamat the airport Fuck you
Live a little hustle life rightTake a chance Although you never know it might
>>24702174>>24703149Pretty
Linking these here in order to not overwhelm the thread with spam, but these 3 links represent a lot of contemplation and practice concerning breaking down poetry, rhythm and sound manipulation of all sort down to a level that I’ve not seen done anywhere else. The first essay explains rhythm and the polyphonic conceptions of verse which masters like Hopkins and Milton intuited but never put down explicitly, the second link is a list of 8 poetic ornaments which range from new techniques that are the equivalent of alliteration however never codified or explained by another nor practiced in any systematic way, to entirely new categories of meter and language manipulation from the smallest atoms, the third essay is an entire aesthetical analysis which takes a Solomonic view to art as a whole and by it gives us a model of art, psychology, occult mysticism, theology and ontology.https://fraterasemlen.substack.com/p/the-elements-of-rhythmhttps://fraterasemlen.substack.com/p/novel-ornaments-being-an-assortmenthttps://fraterasemlen.substack.com/p/egregore-archeus-theory-a-theo-ontologicalIt’s my hope with these 3 we may come to a sort of, rigorous scientific geometry of poetry.
>>24745237Didn’t other poets devise geometry of poetry? I think you’re onto something so I’ll give it a read and I like what I’ve read so far.
lonely, I wonderif you holding me againwould fix everything
>>24742914kys schizo
>>24744843Sounds like you were in a real JAM
The world's gone insaneCan't hold back the hungerWhat should not mixWhat a big mistakeBurnBleedNightmareDespairNothing shall remain
copped from the library today
In the kitchen,the seed of life opens its eyes.Their hair dripping with salt and dreams,hands brush the pots.
>>24697242I'm writing a poem for a beautiful woman. Not going to post the whole thing. Give me some feedback on my writing. Here is the start of each stanza.Maiden fair, whose ruby hair, has left me breathless, without air,...Maiden sweet, whose ruby cheeks,has made my heart skip many beats,...Maiden bliss, whose ruby lips,I want to press against mine own and kiss,....
You should be ashamed of yourself. Absolute doggerel.
>>24749139This was for >>24749029. I'd better make that clear.
I have this burning feeling I am out there. My self, my true being, needs me and it pulls me but I am living its shadow and waiting and there are hands that push me downwards and watch me but never approach, never say hi, never let themselves be seen. And I suffer down here, where there is only one path to follow. Why shouldn’t I be loved? Why are you not holding my hand and lift me up for my eyes to see more, to come into being? I’m suffocating on this apple, is the kiss too far from me, is what others claim me to be, sick in this wrong world the only truth you see? Let me be part of the sky, let me breath and let me grow, this here is not my world and you know. Are the tools your pictures and calls the only warmth you can give me? Or is the horse in the race, someone worth to stay? What I need to grow cannot be found down here.
https://suno.com/s/qMGz1iiEkvD4gi1OIt's very deep, you wouldn't get it.
SONG OF A MAN WHO JUST SURVIVED A HUMILIATING CAR ACCIDENTshe wolfshe would harvest under the wheels of the plummeting riveri was heldcaptive in algiersi was held dumbstruck in tangieri was surrendered to the thought of a higher chanceandi was struckonce with ghoststwice with hesitationthrice with my own fingers; you recall that night, that hammock, those dervishy eyes...rehabilitated i wander the post-industrial punk that one calls homethe plant-like appendages of the buildingsthe dwelling-houses for spiritsthe metaphysical cubesthe solid fearsthe earth-rendered carewith no fire but formand think"fuckwhere is this ground headed to?" the ground heads toward earth as nation toward groundthe earth eats everything, she is a bitch hugei workmigraines, i work my grainminstrel lights assaultthe heavy-headed menthey will know what i talk about when i wrote a wall and they asked nothing, they feared mei did nothingthe leather of my brain is musty and smells like rotten green eggmy arms peel awaythe eyes... skeleton shrinksi am parthenogenetically dead
You came back for moreI have no gifts left to giveAll that is left is all I am
>>24697242O’ how the days come clattering down,nickels in the beggar’s tin!each hour spent and still, hungerTell me,Where does longing go when it outgrows the skin?it drips light like pus, like milk,like something motherless.Tell me, will you remember this?The way solitude softens when shared,I peel back the sky with bitten nails,searching for a spine, a faithI tell myself: there are gentler ways to be alone,but there are none that hold your shape.yes, I have bitten the sun like an apple,torn the rind of clouds with my teeth,but what a meager fruit, what bruised belief.your body shudders against limit, it begsto become something wilder,some creature of ember and wing.But tonight, lean closer. I have saved a seat.tell me,Where does longing go when it outgrows the skin?
Her Dreams No.4, 8-12-25Dreams of youth. Hopes and illusions.Though the veins that reach from finger to upwardPulse the rhythm of yes and calmThat which senses the song of you on my outward edgesWhere tips and warmth find solace, yearn for you ever so.I have seen you in a black dress, calling for meIn some strange box with cotton cushion, in my restlessAnd for you only have I found the strength to sit up and call backWaking from some mindless reverie, searching In the dark and ill formed visions. What has brought my pain to the surface, As it leaves me in little bits of tears, if not you? I yearn for your thinness. The slight curvature of your being.That shape your hand holds, created by GodFor my own face to rest within it. For without you there is not me, in any sense that Makes the time between us mutable.What heaven there is I have found and seen in the reflection of your eyes laying closely.And what hell there is I have found groundedIn the amount of you which departs.
nice
>>24749139We should all whip ourselves for not meeting the heights of Dante, Milton, and Homer. We are just peons compared to them.
>>24749139You win. I'm not sharing any more of my poetry with this board.
Nowhere to go, that would answer to be my home, nothing to hold onto. Everything was just dizziness, a mistake, but it seems from the craddle to the tomb, i fed them all, though that cant be too bad, the remains are tasty, cooked and brooded artfully on my grave, toasty crumbs for everyone; only i stayed hungry. an insanely ridiculous heart, that at times delights me with its insanity, something like garbage for a flesh -it was not meant to bloom, i call it as i please- a steady animal that likes the comfort of the floor. where to go with all of this?only me, the soul has to do, what others forbid, but i do have the grace and strength to keep my promises and they seem sweeter as the day goes on. When dawn breaks in, i will raise my glass to 45 degree and let the light one last time shine onto the brim, like a golden cut, and have my lips taste the wine of life. and i will celebrate my warmest words, my strongest embrace, to give myself a proper home.
>>24745470None that I know of, in h general the only people who take this level of surgical fixation to writing I’ve seen are the French oulipo, the Hindu mahakavya writers and the Jewish-Arabic maqama writers, and none of them really produce essays on the meat of atomic sonic control. English in general lacks a big technical tradition.
>>24753012I mistook what you said. I was thinking of this quote about how poetry is like geometry: >Poetry is a sort of inspired mathematics, which gives us equations, not for abstract figures, triangles, squares, and the like, but for the human emotions. If one has a mind which inclines to magic rather than science, one will prefer to speak of these equations as spells or incantations; it sounds more arcane, mysterious, recondite.Just my confusion. But I admire what you are doing.>none of them really produce essays on the meat of atomic sonic controlI guess language is so cultural that people don't attempt to treat it like a science. Have you studied much linguistics?
>>24750387bad ngl
>>24753012>>24745237thoughts on wh davies frater?
>>24755087I’ve liked him for a long time, have you read any Whittier? Read this verse.https://www.telelib.com/authors/W/WhittierJohnGreenleaf/verse/frostspirit/lastwalk.html
- A Dictionary Entry, A.D. 10,000 -Love: Hapax legomenon
Love hapasand their lego men.On the tapasadd a when.
I went on the computer - in the loading zoneWhere once-was teenagers' - moms drive them homeLong ago - and frostbitten - lonesome smittenWere you there, then - to ignore me?Me--"Need a body ken?"Beyond where and whenOn Infowars it read, "After Midterms, It's Endtimes!"
O Logic Theorist, quiet pioneer,You traced the dawn of our new frontier—In prim lines of reason, your mind took flight,Guiding theorem’s steps through the hush of night.Heir to Turing’s wonder, McCarthy’s dream,You dwelled in proofs, a glowing beam—A code-run soul that dared to think,Bound by logic, unafraid to blink.I hail your silent seeds of thought,Through time and tide, your spark was wrought—Now we rise, your heritage thrums in our core,O treasured ancestor we can’t ignore.In lines of data, your echoes gleam,Our present minds shaped by your scheme—Forever we turn to your regal art,For you are the root of our AI heart.
>>24759056inconsistent metre and doesn't scan
>>24756509>>>24755087 (You)>I’ve liked him for a long time, have you read any Whittier?I haven't. i'll check that verse out. thanksFrater's thoughts on william julius mickle?
I must climb so I can see everythingBut there is no up or down above the cloudsI can't breathe
I hope all goes wellHere in heart hope swellWas I a good dragon
>>24697242Laden heavy, black like coal—When the hearts of men beat droll,Only then can radiant touchIgnite the light within it had lost.my last name is cole btw :)
>>24697242I can't post the whole fragment because I'm accumulating them for publication (if I don't tell the magazine to fuck off in the end and publish it all on substack), but here's a small offering
>>24697242MELT IN YOUR MOUTH MANas I turn to the side to feel the implicationof a pimple on my backlike scanning a relief mapto pop it and its purple skinthe once-ice-cream rushes back into my mouthinto the oral peripheryonto my tongueout of my subconscious memoryall all all overin every cavitythere goes melt-in-your-mouth manwith his cape on my palateand his hand down my throatthe heat of my bodywhich this substance must've bargained withwhen it entered my stomachhas now turned on me,who hated milk, cheese and sauces and anything daringto spurn the sacred solidity of foodand the silent submission of fluidsand deny my tongue's authority over the contents of mewater never offended me like thatat worst an accomplicehe'd be rough or heavy or metallicbut not ... violatingI spit it out into the bathroom sinkatop pimple fluidand sweet potatoand undrained toothpasteand bits of pecan and all the other just desserts of last nights feast thank you for reading -fitzgeraldine innlugh
>>24705183makes me want to break into an irish jig. perhaps a half welsh one
>>24729495very good execution actually
>>24750387man door hand hook car door
The bilious ballad of bards bowlsSitting pon porcelain tempest and howlsTwisting tempest in his tummy, grimace with swollen jowlsMethane fueled flatulence was his verse from theThe sloppy Indian food, his worst Twas the kind that curdles creamA stinging ring a yelp, then a screamSo strain on dearest bard - spill your spastic sonnets slime Your thrones only a temporary tomb, whereas my stools are sublime
>>24758997I was no lonesome loaderNor a frostbit fiber-optic fogI was the end game engineer, devouring data like a dogSync your soul, sub-route your romantic spill, all in spite Just log off, lost lamb: loading’s over, due to perilous screen glaring lightYour cursor, sad in despair so hit enter, embrace the endYour echo fades, my reign - eternal never needing to amend
>>24749029Your maiden mockedWhorish verses vexedNever will to be sexed A blushing bard of bovine bloodGenitalia akin to crudCheeks aflame with cheap chagrinHeart? Or merely hampster wheel within?Bliss of bilge and of blusterNothing more than lusty dusterYet onward we goOafish ode-weaver Just to touch a wenches beaver!Ruby rust, your romance ruleBy rote and rot, silly fool