To write poetry after Artemis II
is barbaric

>>25202370
>OC
The Hallowed:

She is wicked, you can tell.
Just her glance sends me to hell.
Swallowed by this hallowed ground
My heavy soul that drags me down.
Dirt and gravel beneath my nails.
She is heaven and I fell.
Eyes still wide to drink her in --
Intoxicating -- milk light skin,
Cheeks of soft sky-blush clouds,
A lilting song sits in her mouth.
Tears and dust strike me blind
but I still see her in my mind
burning bright like torch's light,
blessed cherub, awful sight.
As I erode and become earth
I, at last, find my worth.
For I can bear to hold her now.
As she steps upon my ground.

>>25202370
At first 5am
was treachery,
but now
I've volunteered
to work at 6am
on my Saturday off.

Did I die?

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Right on the outskirts of Zanzibar
are the outskirts of Zanzibar.
Someone closed the door
and ate the rusty key.
How would we even know
there was a key
and a door
and Zanzibar.
Alright — we must do something.
Sleep on a mirror until
we fall through,
ending up where we are already.

>>25202370
Song of Cleansing

We could never fit inside
the early morning boat
that sails above the deluge,
Not in the holiness of water
from the visions of Johanna,
In her unseen intervention,
In any of her cupid's bullets
flying over our red right hands.
But in the selfishness of hearts,
In the broken laughter
bellowing from the idiot wind.

All that is left of our material love
is dead with the unserious world,
As we drown in our own trying ways,
Ninety thousand feet deep, trying
in our own small, little awkward ways.

The serious world has arrived,
The serious world is innate and right,
As Noah wakes to the sun shining
and all the pigs fucking.

Laments of an Anon

O Jesus fucking Christ, my life
Is full of bullshit, sadness, strife.
The buses here are always late,
And Blue Team always wins my state.
Abroad, our wars increase in scale,
Yet, in the end, all seem to fail.
The price per gallon's now o'er four,
While girls I've known have turned to whores.

I scroll through job boards, sitting down,
As new rejections make me frown.
I try to date, or make new friends,
Yet all this leads to bitter ends.
Compared to those born 10 years 'fore,
The skill I need seems 10 times more:
That is, to live their happy lives.
They work? Rich. I work? Just survive.

Depressed, I hence reminiscence
The all-out loss of innocence.
To ease my mind, I trawl Y.T.,
Yet goyish slop is all I see.
Dejected, I ring up AI;
Its wokeness makes me want to die.
The things I loved? Now closed or gone.
An endless dusk without a dawn.

When all I see is woke, woke, woke,
This world sure feels like such a joke.
I've contemplated trooning out,
Accepting Christian faith devout,
Or maxxing things like "gym" or "looks";
Perhaps a journey into books—
"The Classics", people often say—
Can soothe my soul through troubled days.

Alas, I know deep down in me,
This awful tide will always be
A nasty force o'er all my world,
Forever wreaking slop unfurled.
Whate'er I do, it's only cope.
Might it be best to use the rope?
With nothing to anticipate,
I might as well resign my fate.

>>25202370
Are there any good books for autistic retards to help me understand poetry? I need something that covers a little history and theory together, because I'm uncultured swine and also don't have the time to get an entire classical education first.

I want to "get it", but I need help finding a foothold. Thanks, fags.

>>25203417
There's a good handbook for poetry by Mary what's-her-name... Oliver, I think, Mary Oliver's Poetry Handbook

>>25202637
kek

Rooted in curly sunlight — unable to lie.
A fruitless tree that still gives: have
some shade.
I'm not one to break a heart like an egg.
You know I leave what's needed
on the sill.
From up here, the town laying down
and the tiny souls always
running around.
By contrast, at night, the river-dreams
in which peaceful armies dwell.
They can't pick up a spear
but they can melt in your name.
Doodled birds on the page
tell you that I'm still the same.

>>25202370
dat nigga yeats changed my life

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THE LITTLE BOY LOST
‘Father, father, where are you going?
O do not walk so fast!
Speak, father, speak to your little boy,
Or else I shall be lost.’

The night was dark, no father was there,
The child was wet with dew;
The mire was deep, and the child did weep,
And away the vapour flew.

PARADISE LOST, BOOK IX

So saying, her rash hand in evil hour
Forth reaching to the Fruit, she pluck'd, she eat:
Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat
Sighing through all her Works gave signs of woe,
That all was lost. Back to the Thicket slunk
The guiltie Serpent, and well might, for Eve
Intent now wholly on her taste, naught else
Regarded, such delight till then, as seemd,
In Fruit she never tasted, whether true
Or fansied so, through expectation high
Of knowledg, nor was God-head from her thought.

“Earth felt the wound” is such a tragic and apocalyptic line. Reading this part evokes despair and anger, lamenting every great act of evil ever committed throughout history as it flashes through your mind.

Then Adam’s inner thoughts after discovering this:

O fairest of creation, last and best
Of all God's works, creature in whom excell'd
Whatever can to sight or thought be form'd
Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet!
How art thou lost! how on a sudden lost,
Defac'd, deflow'r'd, and now to death devote!
Rather, how hast thou yielded to transgress
The strict forbiddance, how to violate
The sacred fruit forbidd'n? Some cursed fraud
Of enemy hath beguil'd thee, yet unknown,
And me with thee hath ruin'd; for with thee
Certain my resolution is to die.
How can I live without thee? how forgo
Thy sweet converse, and love so dearly join'd,
To live again in these wild woods forlorn?
Should God create another Eve, and I
Another rib afford, yet loss of thee
Would never from my heart. No, no! I feel
The link of nature draw me: flesh of flesh,
Bone of my bone thou art, and from thy state
Mine never shall be parted, bliss or woe.

Sublime. The moment the colour from Eden fades to a daub grey.

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>>25203854
>>25203908
Love Blake’s art

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Post some. If you wrote it great, and if not well that’s probably even better

I just need a moment
To compose myself
I want you and all your shadows

Based on previous threads, I'm convinced this general is a grand experiment in trolling. The best pieces get zero replies, the worst ones are debated as if they were Shakespeare. Also, stop writing in archaic English for the sake of it, it's fucking cringe especially when the verses themselves are utter cow dung.

>>25204140
Sorry, I don’t usually make the generals but I made this one :( I just like poetry and you anons sharing it. though I recall a lot of troll posts in the last one.

Soft shiny golden bob
Eyes wide seashore blues
Skin alabaster
Lioness

Lithe lays under me
Cushioning my tired body
Observing her strawberry face
As she gasps and gesticulates

Bodies wet of sweat
Her tongue sweet
I breathe my thrusts
I dream awake

I spat blood today
and felt fine
Maybe I'll spit blood
tomorrow
or yet today again
but I think I will feel fine

>>25202370
—Who has their penis out?
—Not I, beguiled Denise
Among matrixes green
with spring's unfurling change
slithers an ivy cock.
she lied, she lied, she lied.
When nature takes its course
It's me who's taken
like every time the town's
reliable source of good
must call for holes to dig
it's my hole,
must call for some to give
I'm found among the some,
must call for rocks to break
my rocks become their sand:
my pollen in the air pirouettes
away from me.
My Love finds me afraid,
often. I cling on her,
I ask again. we love
this routine, like I don't know.

Is Pablo Neruda the most overrated >poet in history? Every poem and verse I've read is simply cheesy and prosaic. Even the ones from Canto General. He seems imho a poet for plebs (I know he was a communist, it would't surprise if he defined himself as a "people's poet".) And yes I've read it in Spanish. Any suggestions that could point me to his actually good poems? (if those exist)

I have an infection
Of the middle ear
A ruptured drum
I hoped would pass
If ignored enough
willed away
After time enough
I finally went in
I couldn’t hear
My doctor a nurse
The nurse a man
He asked doesn’t it hurt
I said I’m unsure perhaps
Not as much as other things
time won’t heal
Confused by honesty
Well your blood pressure is great
So I’m taking my medicine
Ten day supply
Kissed my only pendant
My last idol
and threw it to the river
Offered a trade
My most powerful spell
To bring back my muse
She hasn’t returned
I see her everywhere

>>25204313

he’s not everyone’s cup of tea. I enjoy some of his stuff, but not all. If his book of questions does nothing for you then yeah he’s probably not for you.

Te metí un dedo en el culo
y salió un poquito de mierda.
La olí.
Un poquito de ti.

La punta de mi dedo
penetró ese tu otro coño
que suele estar cerrado
excepto en ocasiones especiales
y por eso siempre se siente especial,
como cuando tienes la regla
y aún quieres follar
y tener mi polla dentro de tí
pero no dentro de tu herida sangrante.

Esa masa que no eres tú
sino tu producto
y que por tanto lleva
el sello de tu existencia,
la esencia de tu flora,
dos genotipos heredados,
y también la esencialidad
accidental de tu rutina.

Me miraste divertida
y te toqué la nariz.
Con un poquito de ti.

Magno Neruda.

>>25204351
>book of questions
Thanks fren.

>>25204140
That's how it goes with anons on here, m8. Everyone larps as 19th-century poets, even though that style has long come and gone.

Were you the poet or the poem today and is there a difference

>>25204140
>Also, stop writing in archaic English for the sake of it, it's fucking cringe especially when the verses themselves are utter cow dung
Careful, you can't say this or a dozen anons will crawl down your throat squealing about how poetry must sound like it comes from the 1800s or it's not real poetry because it just can't be okay

>>25204140
Ye catapults! Let Bess to Heav'n be flung,
And the high Moos eclipse her falling Dung!

>>25204140
Exactly. All poetry should be written in the common language of the day, no matter what. Anything else is cringe larping.
That's why Rupi Kaur is the greatest living poet. She's the only one who truly writes in the style of the times.

>>25205058
I prefer those BRAVE souls from Palestine who say fuck metre, fuck form, because my friend from school got blown up or something. It’s so in, it’s so now!

>>25202370
>>25204140
NIGGER... Nigger...Nieeh-Guh-Urrh
I savor each departure from my mouth
at the same time I breath out—
An inhalation!... NIGGER!
Nieeh! I catch it with the tip of my tongue on White teeth
Guh! I press it to into the back of my throat
Urrh! down split lungs that swaddle beating heart
NIGGER! I partake of pneumatic nectar
For am I not a god enraptured
Who with a word binds men in chains,
and women in even crueler shame,
that time and triumph cannot disdain
or any other utterance capture
NIGGER! Nigger, nigger... nigger.

She's eighteen
He's thirty-two
She's like a sister
That he would screw

She's just a friend
Who's his fantasy
Her boyfriend's
A welcome boundary

He'd ruin my life
That man of thirty-two
Who's not me
I'm telling you

>>25205311
How does it feel getting cucked by an 18 year old kid, grandpa? He'd probably beat you up if he read that.
LMAO

>>25205058
Come on, anon. You can do better than a false dichotomy -- or so I would hope.

Fucking gay
And empty day
Major poltroon every way

>>25205058
The point of poetry is to convey stuff via the form (in its broadest sense) rather than content of writing. That's all.

>>25205058

The common language of the day being non-archaic English? What are you, the template uncle who doesn't listen to music before the 60s because it's made with "devil electronery"?

>>25205359
you are brown I can smell it

>>25205369

I think you simply buried your nose in your own asshole, a magnificent feat of flexibility, but not poetry.

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I want someone to understand what I’m going through and grant me a small favor.
I’m just a college student who has to submit poetry for the college magazine, which will be printed by June.
But I’m completely out of ideas. my only muse is gone.
Oh, I beg of you, lend me some of your songs, your poetry. It would save me from embarrassment, as the deadline is fast approaching.
It’s due on the 15th of April!

>>25205433
what?
if you're submitting, it should be yours
just rewrite your favorite poem in your own voice

I saw a pit with no walls,
straight drop no turns or bends.
A man resists but still falls
and prays it never ends.

>>25205441
Oh please understand,I don't have any time or idea left!! It's not possible for me to get something to write about anymore.
I'm depressed and dealing with real life problems rn. I wish someone can write poems from my stead for once!! I will even use your name as my pen name on the magazine.