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/lit/ - Literature


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10669588 No.10669588 [Reply] [Original]

Honestly I can't get over how good this poem is.
Its perfect in every single way.
Does anyone know of other poetry similar to this?

>> No.10669596

Deeper than anything Peterson has ever said

>> No.10669622

What "cage" is a tiger truly capable of destroying? Either the means of entrapment was so primitive it could not truly be considered a cage at all or the cage is metaphorical.

>> No.10669624

yes it's unironically a great poem

I can't imagine an adult creating something like that without it coming out like rupi kapur or whatever herr name is

>> No.10669628
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10669628

>> No.10669632
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10669632

>> No.10669636

>>10669628
>>10669632
ok what did he mean by 'plum' what's going on here

>> No.10669643
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10669643

obviously william carlos williams is significantly more subdued but i think it reflects the aging of the same kind of sentiment of delight. and also of course the way that gaps and sparsity of language somehow create image.

>> No.10669646

>>10669628
>>10669632
Trash.

>> No.10669661

if you just like the kind of raw energy and wonder OP i would actually suggest just looking at other children’s poetry. i unfortunately dont know if i can reccomend anything that captures the energy naïveté and excitement of childhood better than that poem, though i havent read a great deal of children’s poetry i wouldnt be surprised if a lot of it has this quality.

>> No.10669668

>>10669636
he just meant plum. just like nael just meant tiger.

>> No.10669669

>>10669636
He meant pussy
>>10669622
>>10669624
It's about the first time the kid touched himself. His parents forced him to do it which is why he says it's a tiger. At first he was scared, but later he was enjoying it. Poor kid. He'll grow up traumatised.

>> No.10669676

>>10669643
I really don't get why this poem is meant to be so good. at all. someone please explain.

>> No.10669693

>>10669676
>>10669421

I dunno man. Red and wet might be blood. Chickens are white maybe they'll be red once he kills them.

>> No.10669697

>>10669676

try reading it out loud to yourself. notice how the space and line divisions allow you to pause. just picture it: a bright red wheelbarrow shiny and smooth, and the texture of the white chicken feathers. just allow yourself to exist there.

have you ever felt in your heart a sense of profound comfort and happiness? sometimes my cat and i will look at one another and i feel this swell in my stomach of love. sometimes it just comes from looking at a bird in my garden, or the sound trees make in the wind. thats what this poem is about. and thats all.

>> No.10669706

>>10669693
i know this is like. the internet or whatever but i think youd be surprised at how much happier youd be if you just opened yourself up to vulnerability. it’s scary a lot of times but also really rewarding. i mean this sincerely. gnight.

>> No.10669721
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10669721

>> No.10669722
File: 70 KB, 600x763, f3eccb76ee70d0817f09f2313a5538cd58c56d613567e7d60789379dc90575a3.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]
10669722

>10669697
>profound and abiding joy
Gondolas

>> No.10669726

>>10669721
this is horrifying

>> No.10669728

>>10669697
I know the feeling you're talking about, and I realise Williams is trying to evoke it, but I just can't get it from this poem.

is he deliberately writing without any apparent style to make us feel an ordinary feeling? is it meant to be a poem that isn't beautiful because it describes something mundane, something that by nature isn't beautiful unless you're in the right mindset? I guess I could understand that at least.

>> No.10669735

>>10669588
Im an underground gold miner here's my haiku:
You can Paint a turd Gold,

But it's still Shit.


Which is exactly what I think about that poem.

>> No.10669752

>>10669735
xD Well ironized, my witty friend

>> No.10669759
File: 876 KB, 1022x1028, Screen Shot 2018-02-09 at 8.04.49 PM.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]
10669759

Pic related is unironically better then anything Kaur has written

>> No.10669761

>>10669588
>Look Mom!
>I posted it again!
>Am I cool yet?

>> No.10669762

>>10669628
this is trivial. The psycopath kid is ecstatic that a tiger runs at large.

>> No.10669764

>>10669588
>>10669628
>>10669632
>>10669643
>no rhyme
>no metre
>no alliteration
>no proper diction
>"""""""""""poetry""""""""""""

Postmodernism was a mistake

>> No.10669770

>>10669588
It's unironically a masterpiece. Where was it published, some sort of class poetry book? I want a first edition.

>>10669759
This is fake, right?

>> No.10669772

>>10669764
Eminem is my favourite poet

>> No.10669779
File: 37 KB, 800x450, brainlettttt.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]
10669779

>>10669764
>WCW
>postmodern

>> No.10669817

>>10669779
Not an argument

>> No.10669837

When I was in middle school I wrote a poem for a competition and it was published. I've been embarrassed by it since. It's not even so bad though.

>> No.10669846

>>10669676
It forces you to think about the image. What immense and burdensome life requires a wheelbarrow so much? How can it be that "so much depends" upon a wheelbarrow? Farmland imagery. WCW forces you to view this mundane object as immensely important. The farmer's wheelbarrow--your keys in the pocket. Every day objects to which we depend so much upon. The first stanza is great.

>> No.10669861

>>10669817
an argument would be excessive, if you'd like one you'll have to start it yourself.

>> No.10669903
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10669903

>>10669721

>> No.10669926
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10669926

>>10669721
that's actually kind of hard-hitting
>>10669628
shit

>> No.10669937

>>10669770
Nah
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hRFUZBXOWZI

>> No.10669984

>>10669628
This just reads like someone who pauses every two words

>> No.10669996

>>10669846
>WCW forces you to view this mundane object as immensely important.
He tries, but it's just a fucking wheelbarrow so it doesn't work.

>> No.10670008

>>10669764
I agree. Poetry without rhyme or meter is garbage no matter what.

>> No.10670021

Reminds me of Rimbaud, except not about alcoholism, flings, or whores.

His poems tend not to rhyme because originally they where in french. Though, they keep the same flow.

"
Pale white in private moonlight,
Like round-eyed sores,
Flap your scabby kneecaps apart,
My ugly whores!

We loved each other in those days,
Ugly blue whore!
We ate boiled eggs
And weed.

One night you made me a poet,
Ugly blond whore.
Get between my legs,
I'll whip you.

I puked up your greasy hair,
Ugly black whore;
You tried to unstring
My guitar.

Blah! Some of my dried-up spit,
Ugly red whore,
Still stinks in the cracks
Of your breast.

O my little lovelies,
I hate your guts!
Go stick big blisters
On your ugly tits!

Hope this keeps its formatting.

>> No.10670030

>>10670008
Beowulf, for example, is utter trash.

>> No.10670095

>>10670008
Boy it's gonna be a real shock to the academics when they hear about this. Guess it's goodbye to paradise lost

>> No.10670232

>>10669764
Why the is everybody just skipping over the fact that this retard thinks William Carlos Williams is postmodern?

>> No.10670478

>>10669721
what the fuck Stefany.

>> No.10670512

>>10669628
>>10669632
>>10669643
Wow, Rupi strikes again.

>> No.10670515
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10670515

step aside

>> No.10670518

>>10670232
it was just obvious bad satire tbqh

>> No.10670527 [DELETED] 

>>10669588
the nigger
He destroyed his cage
Yes
YES
The nigger is out
fuck where's my car?

>> No.10670530

>>10670515
Love that poem

>> No.10670532

>>10670515
Sing it in the style of Come Together.

>> No.10670533

>>10670530
please explain why

>> No.10670539

Nothing worse than poetryfags. Not even fantasy genre readers. Go fuck yourselves, faggots.

>> No.10670545

>>10669596
rent free

>> No.10670555

>>10669588
>tfw poetry is just people jerking off over the pretense of meaning instead of just explaining whatever deep thoughts they might have clearly through normal language or at the very least conveying the emotional cadence through music

just an absolute garbage artform for flaming pseud homos

>> No.10670559

>>10670539
(you)

>> No.10670563

>>10669721
Pretty good actually

>> No.10670582

>>10669697
>sometimes my cat and i will look at one another and i feel this swell in my stomach of love.
Dammit I miss this feel

>> No.10670584

>>10670555
>explaining whatever deep thoughts they might have clearly through normal language or at the very least conveying the emotional cadence through music

but poetry is both of these at once.

>> No.10670593
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10670593

>>10669721

>> No.10670600

>>10669735
5,7,5 Haiku. I fixed it for you.
Painting a turd gold,
Makes it shiny for others,
But it is still shit.

>> No.10670664

>>10669628
>>10669632
I can't believe people got paid for this shit. This kind of fucking worthless shit is why I hated poetry when taught it in middle school. It's just meaningless, formless garbage when it comes out like this. OP is actually exciting and its structure gives it that energy.

>> No.10670675

>>10669721
how the fuck can 7 year olds be this genius?

>> No.10670685

>>10670675
the question is how could we all get so stupid when we grow up?

>> No.10670703

>>10669697
I swear a woman wrote this post.

>> No.10670715

>>10670582
>>10669697
I sincerely and unironically hope that I can feel the exact same way I do about my cat with a woman

>> No.10670747
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10670747

>>10670685
I was incredibly smart as a kid. My brain development was stunted by complete emotional and social stunting when I hit puberty and stopped doing well in school.
I didn't ask for this feel

>> No.10670749

>>10670685
the drive for normality is a huge waste of mental resources

>> No.10670771

i cant tell if you /lit/ards are being facetious or not and im not gonna stick around long enough to find out. all of these "poems" are shit stop praising them

>> No.10670772

>>10670715
the... exact same way?
like, sex and everything?

>> No.10670776

>>10670771
why don't you write a better one then

>> No.10670785

>>10670772
oh shit yeah bad choice of words. Same emotion, but + sex

>> No.10672272

>>10670703
no, just a fag

>> No.10672350

>>10670785
>but + sex

Anon?

>> No.10672372

>>10670747
You were never that smart.

>> No.10672377

>>10670776

i pick up a leaf and
Hold it for a long time and
Think about going home
where I can think about the leaf

-charlie

>> No.10672421
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10672421

People should not be allowed to write poetry past the age of 12.

>> No.10672425

>>10670021
can you tell the name of the poem?

>> No.10672438

>>10670515
WE

>> No.10672523

>>10672425
I suspect it's called "My Ugly Whores"

>> No.10672533

>>10672438
BY ZEVGENY ZAMYATIN

>> No.10672561

>>10669588
Byronian

>> No.10672599

>>10672421
there's not a good poem ITT written by someone over the age of 10. It's baffling.

>> No.10672630
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10672630

>>10669721
My God

>> No.10672991
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10672991

>>10669721

>> No.10673018

>>10669721
i dont understand this one, explain it to me

>> No.10673034

>>10673018
Child abuse?

>> No.10673069

>>10669588
Unironically reminds me of Joyce

>> No.10673144

>>10669721
>Mom do you see me?
>Yes, but I don't want to.
>OK

shit

>> No.10673158

>>10669697
this is a nice interpretation, I think I agree most with the part about transporting yourself there. But in another way I look at it from the perspective of a child in a farm, and how important a wheelbarrow could be in his imagination as a means of a toy or playground, that innocence and carelessness juxtaposed with the chicken feathers maybe in a farm or a lower class home, being the labor and poorness. dunno might delete later.

>> No.10673363

>>10672421
So simple yet so clever. Only a kid could make this.

>> No.10673428

>>10669588
>>10669721
How can adult "poets" even compete?

>> No.10673578
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10673578

>>10669721

>> No.10673602
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10673602

>>10669628
>>10669632
Damn, I never knew captain kirk wrote poetry

>> No.10673643
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10673643

>>10669588
>not posting the original format

pseud, missing out well important details the poet put thought into

>> No.10673792

>>10672421
thats not a proper haiku this kid can eat shit

>> No.10674006

>>10673643
>shit font
>the centered YES
wtf I hate Nael now

>> No.10674010
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10674010

>>10669588

Look for the poems of the child-poet Hilda Conkling (1910–1986).

Here is Wikipedia about her:

She was the daughter of Grace Hazard Conkling, a poet in her own right and Assistant Professor of English at Smith College, Northampton, Massachusetts. Hilda was born in New York state.[1] Her father died when she was four years old, and she had one sister, Elsa, two years her senior.

Hilda is notable for having composed most of her poetry as a young child, between the ages of four and ten years old. She never wrote them down herself; instead, they came out in conversation with her mother, who would write down Hilda's words either in the moment, or from memory later. If the latter, she would read the lines back to Hilda, who would then correct any deviation from her original words. As Hilda grew up, her mother stopped recording the poems, and Hilda is not known to have written any herself as an adult.

And here an example of her poetry:

"The world turns softly
Not to spill its lakes and rivers.
The water is held in its arms
And the sky is held in the water."

And here:

DANDELION
O little soldier with the golden helmet,
What are you guarding on my lawn?
You with your green gun
And your yellow beard,
Why do you stand so stiff?
There is only the grass to fight!

And here:

FAIRIES AGAIN
Fairies dancing in the woods at night
Make me think of foreign places,
Of places unknown.
Fairies with sparkling crowns and dewy hands,
Sprinkle flowers and mosses to keep them fresh,
Talk to the birds to keep them cheery.
Once a bird came home
And found a fairy asleep in his nest,
Upon his baby eggs,
To keep them warm!

and here:

AUTUMN SONG
I made a ring of leaves
On the autumn grass:
I was a fairy queen all day.
Inside the ring, the wind wore sandals
Not to make a noise of going.
The caterpillars, like little snow men,
Had wound themselves in their winter coats.
The hands of the trees were bare
And their fingers fluttered.
I was a queen of yellow leaves and brown,
And the redness of my fairy ring
Kept me warm.
For the wind blew near,
Though he made no noise of going,
And I hadn't a close-made wrap
Like the caterpillars.
Even a queen of fairies can be cold
When summer has forgotten and gone!
Keep me warm, red leaves;
Don't let the frost tiptoe into my ring
On the magic grass!

You can see more here:

https://www.gutenberg.org/files/1612/1612-h/1612-h.htm

>> No.10674097

>>10669721
damn

>> No.10674111

>>10670533
explain why you don't like it, first.
besides >lol nigger

>> No.10674126

>>10674010
Dandelion was very sweet

>> No.10674172
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10674172

Natsuke is unironically a good poet.

>> No.10674175

>>10669588
irony and so on, yeah, but if this was part of a longer poem from the early 20th century or earlier you bet your balls people would think it's profound

>> No.10674181

>>10669628
I know where you know this from and I just want you to know you just made me sad

>> No.10674196

>>10670703
if it was a woman they probably wouldn't implicate the trees blowing in the wind, feeling beauty and wonder from something that's not alive is a fairly masculine trait

>> No.10674212

>>10669697
that's nice and all but that's what visual media are for
if you want to leave it up to the audience you can make it very stylized or leave it as a drawing or something
if it was part of a larger work it would be one thing, but a single image of a mundane scene presented in text doesn't seem very valuable

>> No.10674291 [SPOILER] 
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10674291

>>10669588
reminds me of 1st grade when we had to write a poem and some were picked to be put in the paper
I couldn't think of a fucking thing, and everything that was suggested to me A) didn't sound good enough and B) wasn't my idea so I didn't want to write it down
I started crying and the teachers said I could skip it but that just made me want to do it more
eventually I wrote down something like "Spring is the time for baseball, fishing, and rainbows" and they put it in the paper
I forgot about it until I was like 15 and I found a copy of it
I was and kind of still am absolutely furious they put that in the paper
like I know I was crying but you knew that "poem" was shit, that doesn't reflect well on me at all, and you had to know there was a possibility my mom would've saved it and I'd be embarrassed years later
--
even though I forgot it, that feeling came up all through my schooling, the feeling of "I have no creativity and anything I do come up with isn't good enough and anything you come up with is cheating, but I want to finish this regardless", and every year, every month even, that last part would skew more towards "I shouldn't be forced to do this"
and yes, I'm autistic, not even all that autistic, I have a mild case
if anyone tells you actual autism isn't hard, they don't know what the fuck they're talking about
I really did think kind of like a robot, and I knew it, and it was not fun
now I've picked up more experience and more mental pathways to create shit, but I'm still abysmal at it
--
I've been working on a video game and I've made like 5 or 6 tiles total
for music I feel like I have a lot of ideas, but 99% of them are incredibly simple, and every time I look back I see about half are just copies of older ideas, and several of them I recorded three or even four times
people say artists are hard to understand and art is weird, but for me I think it might be impossible to really understand
I know what I like, but even more than the ordinary person, I do not know what art is

>> No.10674351

>>10674010
something about these makes me cry
I think it's because I read them in what I imagine her voice was like

>> No.10674395

>>10670675
They're not constrained by the imposition of any rules or ideas about how they ought to do things, they just do them.

>> No.10674488

>>10670515
unironically one of my favorite poems

>> No.10675116

>>10674010
>DANDELION
>O little soldier with the golden helmet,
>What are you guarding on my lawn?
>You with your green gun
>And your yellow beard,
>Why do you stand so stiff?
>There is only the grass to fight!

this one is great

>> No.10675276

>>10674010
This is amazing. She effortlessly creates unique and interesting metaphors for common natural things while also holding a meter that blends perfectly together. Fuck. It sucks she didn't write more.

>> No.10675354

>>10669697
>notice how the space and line divisions allow you to pause
the reading allows me to pause, I'm sick of being left with my own thoughts
>just picture it
I picture what I read and I didn't read that
If you can't put something into words why become a poet, ugh
>just allow yourself to exist there
I'll allow myself to exist there when I want to exist anywhere
>token anecdotal; thats what this poem is about. and thats all.
Why would you apply a personal interpretation to a poem and tell others not to personally interpret it
who gave you the right
heck

>> No.10675681

>>10669721
holy fuck this is everything I've been trying to do I hate myself

>> No.10676086

>>10674291
All that matters is that you keep at it then you'll eventually come up with your own style. "Copy" your favorite poems then try to come up with something that incorporates all the things you like about the poems you "copied". Nothing is truly original so don't beat yourself up too much.

>> No.10676221

>>10670664
Who says he got paid for it? Maybe it was just an experiment

>> No.10676557

>>10676086
oh I don't have any intention to write poetry, I'm not even set on writing a book, I just want to write a story good enough for this game and one or two others

>> No.10676868

>>10669721
i love this

>> No.10676889

>>10669721
Where is this from? Where can I get this book?

>> No.10676936

>>10673643
This. The formatting is one of the most affecting things about the poem

>> No.10677511

>>10674010
>https://www.gutenberg.org/files/1612/1612-h/1612-h.htm

great stuff here

>> No.10677558

People are only into poetry because they're too ADD for any other kind of literature.

>> No.10678120

>>10669588

So this world of dew
is a world of dew.
And yet ... and yet ....

Issa's most famous haiku, written one month after the passing of his daughter (and after a monk tried to give him consolation by stating that everything in the world is as momentary as a dewdrop, be it an old man or a young child).

>> No.10678380

>>10669632
>>10669643
>Plumb posting this hard

>> No.10679253

>>10672372
>>10670747
I think you were smart.

>> No.10679332

>>10669588
I'm always struck by the fact of the cage's destruction. The tiger didn't just escape incarceration, it destroyed its jail; for a moment, it was more than an animal, which would have just slunk away.

>> No.10679351
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10679351

>>10669721
>a seven year old is a million times the poet I am
FUCK

>> No.10679374

>>10674010
Autumn Song made me feel shit unironically
Oh to be a child again, when fairies and butterflies and caterpillars and the springtime was a time of magic, mysterious in a good way

>> No.10679375

>>10669721
Is this a shop? This is unironically very good and heartfelt.

>> No.10679382

>>10669721
This poem doesn’t move me at all. Not as much as Nael’s.

>> No.10679666

>>10674196
>trees
>not alive
I bet you're a woman as well

>> No.10679684

>>10674181
Was it a children's book?

>> No.10679746

>>10669596
back to tumblr pls

>> No.10680512

>>10679666
>trees blowing in the wind
the wind isn't alive
trees don't blow around on their own

>> No.10680544

>>10669764
internet comments were a mistake

>> No.10680557

>>10674181
i’m pretty sure i read this poem first in my Literature textbook in 8th grade, so whoever you think i am i’m not them. sorry i made you sad.

>> No.10680567

>>10674010
It's very likely the mother wrote the poems.

>> No.10680568

>>10673158
i think your interpretation gets at the core of what i was saying. it’s about the beauty in the mundane, quotidian aspects of life. thanks for your response.

>> No.10680580

>>10670095
Paradise Lost has meter, tho. Doesn't it?

>> No.10680590
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10680590

>>10670703
>>10672272
>>10674196

>> No.10680770

>>10676557
Well same rules apply

>> No.10680894

>>10674010
this smells of bullshit. one of many examples of parents claiming their kid created something, but in reality were only partially responsible.

>> No.10680921

>>10669721
what do you guys get from this poem? is there anything to "get"? does it refer to anything else than feelings of uneasiness in your mother/daughter relationship?

>> No.10680957

>>10669721
Are these from a book?

>> No.10681225

>>10670515
It sounds like it was written by a young rapper, not that I'm complaining.

>> No.10681413

>>10669721
here's what i tried to publish in my college's lit journal (unsuccessfully)

Me a warm ass nigga
Unda all these blankets
I see a big ass booty
Bitch I wanna spank it

>> No.10681424

>>10670515
I mean this is practically Tupac's entire discography right here

>>
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