OC Content, post your poems anons!

[Anonymous No.20566221]

Post your OC poems and rate others'

Here's mine

>>Only a few left now
>>I can't speak forever
>>Exactly six, I calculate
>>With a rush I give in

>>None left but three
>>Silence creeps in
>>Two more are gone
>>But this time I'm in love.

[Anonymous No.20566257]

post bait
refresh
no (you)s
tab over
mr beast lol
tab over
refresh
no (you)s
one reply
it's a retard
i'm seething
i'm sneeding
i'm coping
and dilating
RENT FREE RENT FREE
i've been baited

[Anonymous No.20566272]

>>20566221
Modern poetry/10
Sounds like you're a psychokiller slowly murdering all of the women that rejected him.
>>20566257
Relateable/10

[Anonymous No.20566461]

OP
is a
...

[Anonymous No.20566474]

With fall
I break
Left me
Nothing

[Anonymous No.20566482]

>>20566221
What is
An OC poem
If not Brody on
A beach

No it seriously what's an OC poem ? Don't tell me that C is for Content lmao

[Anonymous No.20566524]

>i take my lover in all moods
>sweet or domineering
>when she feels she needs direction
>and when she insists on steering

>i love to kiss my lovers lips
>more so when we're alone
>i kiss them when she pleases me
>or says i must atone

>i love to see her wrapped in thought
>during her personal, manual passion
>all aid by either me with held
>or by her own, independent fashion

>to kiss her from behind is sweet
>but when she says i must
>the insistence that i would have shown
>is turned to feigned disgust

>to punish warrents punishment
>and so once we start
>we must always owe eachother more
>so never can we part

[Anonymous No.20566557]

oh poor /lit/
you have become shit
the jannies are trannies
the trannies are jannies
they raid all the time
I hate niggers
and here's the last rhyme

[Anonymous No.20567759]

>>20566221
Sounds fun. How's this?

[Anonymous No.20567777]

Twinkle, sprinkle, little star,
Ghostly glitters from afar;
As I stared at your dim shape
In the dead sky's jaws agape.
Blinking, winking, tiny one,
How oft I weep since you have gone.

[Anonymous No.20567780]

>>20567759
genuinely delightful

[Anonymous No.20567797]

>>20567780
Thank you, anon.

[Anonymous No.20567810]

>>20566221
Don't know what it's about, but it does incite interest and curiosity. The last line reminded me of the song Friday I'm In Love by The Cure.

[Anonymous No.20567814]

>>20566524
Written for an irl lover?

[Anonymous No.20567821]

>>20567797
These are gems

[Anonymous No.20567833]

>>20566221
I will write you a poem about /lit/ because I'm bored

The hours pass us by untouched
A drone of boredom, pride, and lust
A thread, a post, reply, submit
The pointless, endless scroll of /lit/
Until I spot, amid the dreck -
But can it be? How are we blessed!
The frog of london come to scry
The normies floating through their lives
His poignant voice and noble stare
Redeem and purify the air.

[Anonymous No.20567842]

>>20567833
I think it deserves another stanza.

[Anonymous No.20567844]

>>20567821
Thanks again. I'm glad a conplete stranger appreciates something I've written.

[Anonymous No.20567866]

>>20567842
I messed up the line about normies anyway. The word he uses is "gliding", normies gliding through normie institutions. Makes me lol every time without fail

[Anonymous No.20567868]

>>20566557
The poor anon on /lit/
Carelessly does sit
Refreshes the page
For half an age
With naught to show for it

[Anonymous No.20567873]

>>20567866
What's this from? A meme?

[Anonymous No.20567880]

>>20566221
These are 3 seperate poems

[Anonymous No.20567886]

>>20566524
>she

[Anonymous No.20567891]

>>20566221
Green text canon.
>well done anon
>>20566257
(you)s will be the end of you.
Fun poem.

>>20566474
Not much here anon. Gotta give us something
>>20566482
OC I see, why seeth, admit defeat, I’ll steal, anons OC.

Seriously op what’s OC

[Anonymous No.20567896]

[Anonymous No.20567900]

>>20566557
Anon, oh anon
Don’t be such a moron
You shit on us /lit
And yet you’re still here
Anon, oh anon
In Spanish
You’re just a wide ano

[Anonymous No.20567906]

[Anonymous No.20567914]

>>20567896
Unironically top tier, especially the first stanza. That metre is so good

[Anonymous No.20567932]

>>20567914
Thank you, anon. I've written a lot of love poetry that I've put aside, but I'm sometimes surprised by it.

[Anonymous No.20567944]

[Anonymous No.20567966]

>>20567944

[Anonymous No.20568039]

No one else going to post original poems?

[Anonymous No.20568126]

I farted once in bed with her awake
She made a frown and almost mad
Her eyes they shone like porcelain
The stench stayed so long I felt a little bad

A few days passed and she made plans
To head down south, a weekend full of fun
She did invite her best friend Pam
When in the car, they handed me
An adult diaper for to wear during the trip
I was so embarrassed I felt the heat raise to my face
To my surprise what she said next put me on a daze
With flirting hands and a seductive voice
In a soft murmur next to my ear
“make me your bitch and don’t be coy
We both want you to take control and make us eat your shit”
They then both laughed and ecstasy almost screamed
If this be false with fact and proved,
No men ever loved and I never writ.

[Anonymous No.20568133]

>>20567896
kek. We're not living in the year 1900 anymore, anon. This sort of thing would work as a fun exercise, though.

[Anonymous No.20568140]

>>20568133
It's love poetry, aimed at someone specific, so it works in that regard. There are still others that can appreciate it though.

[Anonymous No.20568172]

>>20568133
If I had money one of the first things I would do is open a publishing house that printed poetry with old/conventional technique. I dont get why it's not a thing anymore; why cant we have both the new forms and the old ones? I am positive there is a (small) market for that sort of thing.

It's honestly weird that we just threw away all these beautiful old styles. One thing I like about 20th century Russian poetry is they dont have this weird allergy to conventional metre and rhymes; they just published it right alongside the experimental stuff. For example Bella Akhmadulina, she died in 2010, first published in the 60s I think, and was one of the most famous poets in russia and she wrote tons of metered rhyme

[Anonymous No.20568356]

Entreating thing, her gown trimmed gold,
Within pink-violet petals sewn,
Of cotton fresh and softest fold,
She sits upon an azure throne.
Too soon, with blush and maidenhead,
She goes to her far cloistered bed.

[Anonymous No.20568366]

The misted hillocks, sunbeam blazed,
Where shining-coated cattle grazed,
And kids below their mothers lazed,
A scene, serene, was this.

Then, shepherds by low cries malaised,
The cattle, sudden violence crazed,
The kids, by deaths's confusion, dazed,
A lion glutted, heedless.

[Anonymous No.20568399]

>>20567896
Nice, but two things.
Second stanza, second line -
>Just as full and as deep as the ocean is deep
You only imply that the ocean is indeed deep but you don't imply that it's full. We all know that it's full but it doesn't translate across well for me.
>The Last Stanza
Seems fine enough but it doesn't direct the poem towards someone and as such just makes it come across as you're only explaining what your love is when I think what you want to do with this one is explain what it is and that it belongs to someone (the reader it was intended for). Just my thoughts on it.
Nice work though, keep it up!

[Anonymous No.20568432]

>>20568399
I didn't catch that mistake in the second stanza, thanks anon. I may just keep it like that, since it sounds good to read, but I should try some alternatives out. I also had another stanza at the end that I cropped out because it is too specific/private for the intended person, so I did not want to share it. I felt it was incomplete without it, but would be fun to post nonetheless.

[Anonymous No.20568442]

>>20568172
I was wondering something similar. There's many people who still like traditional forms and styles, but there are no mainstream poets that use it often. Not for a long while. As far as I know, that is.

[Anonymous No.20568453]

>>20568126
What feeling did you wish to incite with this piece, anon?

[Anonymous No.20568470]

>>20566221

[Anonymous No.20568484]

[Anonymous No.20568490]

>>20568432
>I should try some alternatives out
Please do, I know how annoying it is when you pick up on a mistake like this and realise you have to change 1 things that ends up being 5 things to make it all work but you're so close, it deserves to both sound nice and to work.
And it's good to know it has an ending because it definitely is incomplete, it does sound nice though and I know you don't feel comfortable sharing the ending so I just want to say I hope you nailed it.

[Anonymous No.20568498]

Incandescence rises from,
Efflorescence found flowing,
Thither from what which you is numb,
Wither flower of yours no longer a place of seed sowing,
But instead a maw that hungers for finger's coming and going.

[Anonymous No.20568503]

>>20568490
I did nail it, for its purpose that is. It is irritating reworking a poem because of small issues, but I often find that if I give it some time and come back after writing more poems, with fresh eyes, I can come to better solutions, rather than hammering at it until its misshapen.
Do you have any poems you would like to share?

[Anonymous No.20568508]

>>20568442
You'd like A.E. Stallings, she's practically a romantic with some of the stuff she writes (though I'm not sure how much writing she does these days as she's the editor for a Greek newspaper now I believe).

Another Lullaby for Insomniacs
BY A.E. STALLINGS

Sleep, she will not linger:
She turns her moon-cold shoulder.
With no ring on her finger,
You cannot hope to hold her.

She turns her moon-cold shoulder
And tosses off the cover.
You cannot hope to hold her:
She has another lover.

She tosses off the cover
And lays the darkness bare.
She has another lover.
Her heart is otherwhere.

She lays the darkness bare.
You slowly realize
Her heart is otherwhere.
There's distance in her eyes.

You slowly realize
That she will never linger,
With distance in her eyes
And no ring on her finger.

[Anonymous No.20568512]

>>20568508
Lol that is quite good.

[Anonymous No.20568515]

>>20568508
I really do like this. Definitely will check out her work. Thanks for the recommendation.

[Anonymous No.20568532]

>>20568498
I see what you did there

[Anonymous No.20568549]

[Anonymous No.20568562]

>>20568503
>Do you have any poems you would like to share?
No, not today. This is my second day back on /lit/ and I haven't been writing at all and don't wish to share anything old. If poetry threads are a thing again and there is one going a week from now I'll share something. That'll allow me to get back in the swing of things.

[Anonymous No.20568578]

>>20567759
Hate it but I still loved reading it.
>>20567797
Good, interesting, relateable, exterminate the shuttling scuttler.
>>20567896
Good
>>20567868
>>20567900
>>20566557
Wish more shitposts were like this
>>20567906
Read it in a thick country accent with a bluegrass style.
>>20567944
Hate all of them but the last, still, you're skilled.
>>20567966
Getting the psycho killer double entendre from that.
>>20568133
Cringe retard

[Anonymous No.20568582]

>>20566221
>Birdie, birdie, in the sky
>please don't poo poo in my eye

[Anonymous No.20568584]

>>20568562
I wouldn't hold my breath. There used to be regular poetry threads, but not so much anymore, and I can't crank out enough poems to keep oc threads alive.

[Anonymous No.20568605]

>>20568582
You made me laugh out loud anon, my partner as well. Great job
>>20568578
Thank you for reading, anon. I like when random people enjoy reading the poems I write. It's not the same sharing with trusted confidants.

[Anonymous No.20568618]

>>20568584
>There used to be regular poetry threads, but not so much anymore
So /lit/s even worse than when I left, can't say I'm surprised.

[Anonymous No.20568628]

>>20568582
>You're anywhere allowed to sit
>But please, Oh please, don't drop your shit!

[Anonymous No.20568637]

>>20566272

>Modern poetry/10
Sounds like you're a psychokiller slowly murdering all of the women that rejected him.

Thank you for the feedback anon.
Though i am an anon from /r9k/, this is not about murdering women poem.

This reflects (or atleast what I want it to reflect) a sense of impending fate.

At first the poem represents thrill then later despair and then, a desire a, longing and acceptance.

Thrill because so little time and so much so say but before you realise you come closer to silence, -despair.

It's not new, things have always been this way, this rush of events and you trying to catch up, but silence is closer than ever, it's not the ordinary day.

But this time it's okay, I accept it I'm in love with it, I no longer care because this time I love it.

[Anonymous No.20568652]

>>20566482
It is I believe. By OC poem I meant poems you've written.

[Anonymous No.20568653]

>>20567873
It's londonfrog, a blog poster incel type. The way he describes himself as this utterly autistic wretch and says things like "normies gliding" just massively endears him to me. I mean this idea that normal people "glide" through institutions made for them while autists suffer and stagnate in Kafkaesque scenarios is genuinely very evocative. The way he always posts almost exactly the same thing with minor variations, idk he just makes me lol on a fundamental level. He is apparently a Pakistani second gen immigrant in London, though I'm not sure this is confirmed. Either way he is my favorite poster in 4chan history; he makes such a total mockery of the concept of like a "social media update on my life" while also directly and extremely uncomfortably being an example of the typically unmentioned segment of people who are looked over by society which is the kind of unstated implication in social media posturing, like "do this so you become successful and dont end up falling through the cracks"; it's like that Gogol story the Overcoat in a way but written by the character rather than by Gogol lmfao. And also the way his threads are always deleted but he acts like it's just normal for him to post them and literally never replies to anyone talking to him. And there are always new friends attempting to give him advice or getting angry when he appears.

Its genuinely hard for me to explain the entirety of why he is so funny to me. The stupid fucking pepe image he always posts just makes me lol too.

[Anonymous No.20568663]

>>20568618
It's like that with most boards, unfortunately. Although, we can be the change we wish to see, whatever little good it does.

[Anonymous No.20568669]

>>20566524
Well written anon, Love the inclusion of BDSM.

[Anonymous No.20568672]

I post on 4chan
I post on Reddit
I post on Twitter
I post on Instagram

Nobody wants me

[Anonymous No.20568679]

>>20567759
A very fun read anon well done.

Is this your own?

[Anonymous No.20568684]

>>20568679
Yes. I'm glad you liked it

[Anonymous No.20568707]

>>20568653
Does he post on /lit/? I am not aware of him

[Anonymous No.20568721]

>>20568707
He's posted on/lit/ since like 2015. Some guy even collected his posts into a couple pdfs though it doesnt work as a collection; it was just funny seeing him post. Maybe he doesn't post anymore though. Most of the board seems to hate him but he just made me laugh

[Anonymous No.20568724]

>>20568721
I guess I just don't click on his threads. There are all kinds in this world...

[Anonymous No.20568729]

You never asked for much but wet tits and clean teeth pristine from a fire that reduced me to a permanent guest years ago the pawn took you there it took me there where it rained and you walked seeing through water stained glass didn’t erase the fire it is elsewhere tomorrow search through refuse look for refuge for you can stop whenever you want you choose to stay and gnash your teeth and see the mumbling people agog for you who came prodigal twice now I am an ungrateful fuck so stay ascetic turn away from the azure into a demure lady who charmed me so sweet he left me bereft in the bilge I sought refuge in dresden in 45 looked like a moon it cratered like their jaw a honeycomb mucus drizzled so sacharine she choked you liked that didn’t you you pneumatic fuck but it left her with gold teeth now eat the bracken be a broker of the mirror three four years ago where are you? Because it sure isn’t here or now

[Anonymous No.20568742]

>>20568724
>There are all kinds in this world...
You see this impulse? "There are bad kinds so we are lucky we're the good kind", being the sort of implication behind it? That is precisely why he is funny because he breaks the social norm of not mentioning social failure, only saying "dont do that", while being an example of failure himself

It's especially uncomfortable for people who are neither socially successful nor failures, and desperately hope they can ascend to success. They are almost allergic to the presence of social failure, like a contagion

[Anonymous No.20568789]

[Anonymous No.20568798]

>>20568453
I was going for the smell of a fart, but not being a poet, I couldn’t put it into words

[Anonymous No.20568871]

A work in progress

[Anonymous No.20569054]

>>20566221
The voyage lengthens no sirens beheld
Adrift across the silent sea await--
And you beloved the vortex revealed;
That sinks my mind with time without abate.
The offshore rendezvous of no return
Ship's keel afloat unwavering, steadfast--
To love is to submit asail the yearn
For solitude the heart of man that lasts.
Bereft is the journey-- no sustenance
But you are the end and the beginning,
The meridian of my existence--
To not give in the void, my reckoning.
Transgressed is the primeval sea of nil;
Desire that drops in the ocean with zeal.

[Anonymous No.20569411]

>>20566257
fpbp

[Anonymous No.20569531]

>>20568484
not bad honestly. it's clear you need practice but v decent

[Anonymous No.20569535]

>>20568549
genuinely phenomenal and saved
change in the darkness to in its darkness

[Anonymous No.20569543]

>>20568789
genuinely would be in the canon of your country. Far superior to chesterton or yeats

[Anonymous No.20569555]

Burned down is our village where we ran as kids
Playing in the fields
Beating sunflowers with sticks
Fully into that other space
My brother,
what are the decades
Compared to what awaits
Beyond? The eternity’s laced
With the covenant
Of the forgotten race.

Hard to reach it. Internally screeching
Bleeding inside. Acting in sin automatically
Fire of the refine? Or a salvatory lie
Plummed out — in shame knee-deep
Drinking a wormwood tea: bitter
It is not sweet.

[Anonymous No.20569559]

>>20568871
very great
pic rel is own

[Anonymous No.20569607]

[Anonymous No.20569662]

>>20566221
red cabinets range
white dusty ground
not sterile but castrating
within this strange
rank prison bound
feeds on my blood for sating
the hunger of incarceron
is this my noble quest
the crows and bugs to feast upon
the organ out my chest

[Anonymous No.20569996]

1/2

[Anonymous No.20570003]

2/2

[Anonymous No.20570181]

>>20570003
based cringe. you've displayed a big part of the internet-kultur cliches. however, a disease it is and endemic at that: some are unawarely beingcritical of irony and cynicism from the same ironic-cynic position. playing right unto the the beast-janny's hands.
>>20569996
this format looks somewhat intimidating.
>king alone in my own castle of snake-scale walls
nice. however, I would enjoy seeing triumphant screech like — CASTRATI NO LONGER. third eye tightenings. inspiring sights witnessing. spear flexing. celebrating generation.
>>20568871
yeah and they better be.. becasue in the woods sneeds are meditating. practicing gymnastics. doing chants. and whatever man. smooking hookahs.

[Anonymous No.20570670]

>>20568729
It has a good rhythm, but I don't much about prose-poetry or stuff like this, so I can't say much more. Are you consciously keeping punctuation out of it? I feel like just a little bit of punctuation could help it.

[Anonymous No.20570676]

>>20568742
Yeah seeing the "not my problem" and "based incel" memes are pretty funny.
>>20568798
I think there was more than just farts in there. Perhaps some sultry symbolism for ambitions in the office?

[Anonymous No.20570696]

>>20569054
Pretty good. After reading it multiple times I have a feeling of what it's about, but not sure. Is that on purpose?

[Anonymous No.20570700]

Jesus /lit/, don't quit your fucking dayjobs.

[Anonymous No.20570703]

>>20569531
>>20569535
>>20569543
Thank you. I know the Witness poem is weird because it takes such a sharp turn, but I wanted to keep the thread going so I was just posting anything. Very glad you liked some of my work though. Your generous words are much appreciated.

[Anonymous No.20570740]

>>20569559
I feel like the word "poop" at the end of the last stanza is very out of place in this poem. But I really liked the lines
>And everything that's hurt is not a loss
>But a small and desperate perch
It rang true for me. I'm not sure if you wrote it purposefully, but I think a bit more regulated meter would help it. Also, remove the poop stuff or at least change the word into something less silly. Reading "purity" and then "poop" just a few lines later is very strange. But good work anon, keep at it. A poem is rarely ever truly finished.

[Anonymous No.20570748]

>>20569607
I really like it. Is there more to it? I hope this is just an excerpt. Reminds me a lot of The Bridge of Sighs by Thomas Hood, one of my favorite poems.

[Anonymous No.20570758]

>>20569662
I feel like it needs a couple more lines and something strong at the end, for impact. The last two lines are good, but not quite enough, I think, for a lasting impression. Also, what do the red cabinets,etc. in the beginning mean? Coffin?

[Anonymous No.20570765]

>>20569996
>>20570003
Is this OC anon? It's quite long

[Anonymous No.20570790]

Whether I was a genius or not did not so much concern me as the fact that I simply did not want a part of anything. The animal-drive and energy of my fellow man amazed me: that a man could change tires all day long or drive and icecream truck or run for Congress or cut into a man's guts in surgery or murder, this was all beyond me. I did not want to begin. I still don't. Any day that I could cheat away from this system of living seemed a good victory for me. I drank wine and slept in the parks and starved....

[Anonymous No.20570811]

>>20568470
What is this from? It's funny

[Anonymous No.20570831]

>>20568637
Reminded me of that Johnny Cash song, "25 Minutes to Go"

[Anonymous No.20570835]

>>20568672
>Reddit
>Instagram
You don't really post poetry there, do you?

[Anonymous No.20570854]

>>20569543
>>20570703
To add, I'm influenced alot by Lovecraft's poetry. It's surprisingly good but never talked about. Horror poetry is slim pickings, but something I like writing very much. And here's another.

[Anonymous No.20570856]

>>20570854
It cut off the picture in weird spot, but this is continuing the poem.

[Anonymous No.20570862]

>>20570790
Reads more like straight prose, not even prose-poetry

[Anonymous No.20570933]

>>20570740
Thanks for reading and appreciate the feedback :)

[Anonymous No.20570996]

I serve no purpose
I serve no authority
I have no being
I have no goals
I have never loved anyone
I have no ideas
I have no knowledge
I can't see, I can't hear
I can't succeed
I can't win
I can't breathe
I can't speak
I have lost myself
I have lost my will to live
I have lost the ability to care
I hate myself
I hate human beings
I hate suffering
I hate happiness
I belong nowhere
I belong to the worms
I belong to the soil
I am waiting
I am waiting for death.

[Anonymous No.20571095]

couldn't fit more in in the screencap

[Anonymous No.20571152]

>>20571095
god damn

[Anonymous No.20571162]

>>20571095
Pretty cool. Can't really critique it, but I like the feelings it gives off.

[Anonymous No.20571184]

>>20571095
wont read cus i hate the formatting so no real feedback

[Anonymous No.20571233]

I glanced your knee
You shied aside
With bloody nostril
You grinned before we met
My skull cracking your nose
But in the library you pretended you didn't try
I pretended I didn't either
You felt safe
Wrestling to the floor
Your armpit around my shoulder
My fingers between your ribs

[Anonymous No.20571251]

>>20571233
Sex?

[Anonymous No.20571258]

>>20571251
We never had sex, actually. But she was terribly fun to kiss.

[Anonymous No.20571267]

>>20571095
I don’t like the repetition of lines, or the capitalization of certain words.
You got something good going, heavily Elliot inspired, but with a Bukowski lingo and Cummings format.
There’s great lines “chronos remember Iphigenia” and it also ties with smoke-wind, water-cascade.
“Sing these psalms of Soviet concrete” do more of this anon, fucking great.

You mention subjects but you are not familiar with the themes - Iphigenia, chronos, god, Datta…

You can either study them or continue this way which is ok but you’ll hit a lot of walls.

[Anonymous No.20571268]

>>20571258
Martial arts classes together?

[Anonymous No.20571282]

>>20571268
Is the poem good or not?

[Anonymous No.20571293]

>>20571282
Not my forte, but I think it's fine.

[Anonymous No.20571304]

>>20571293
The poem is a year of moments non chronologically related by sensations relating to the spectrum of safety and danger. We wrestled in her living room, we danced in the library, we flirted in the food court, we hugged on my doorstep, we sat near each other in class. That's what it's about.

[Anonymous No.20571323]

>>20571184
it's not just fancy formatting, the spaces and commas are breathing (reading) patterns and structurally it's based on Charles Olson's projective verse
specific patterns in the poem like where each consecutive line is further indented are called cascades, for example
>>20571267
I have studied them, in depth at that, that's just the first 'page' of the poem, there's three more that expand upon the subjects but I couldn't fit it all in the screencap
I'm establishing Agamemnon's 'utilitarian' sacrifice of Iphigenia as an archetype for contemporary relationships
chronos is both an appeal to time as an entity and a conversation that happens on the 'other side' of the field of the poem
Lastly, I'd like to note that Ozymandias is the speaker not only for this poem, but for a whole epic of which this poem is part 1 of act I. I'm writing the epic as a response to Eliot's Wasteland, Pound's Cantos, Olson's Maximus letters, Keats' epics and a whole bunch of others, and most of the parts and acts of my work have a narrative structure because it's also a response to post-modernism

[Anonymous No.20571324]

My life I carry on this ship,
Rocking and swaying even on the serene patches
of this endless azure which I traverse.
Finding no rest, no shore it keeps on
this futile but beautiful voyage.
Till the sails give out and the mighty ocean
swallows and makes it whole.

[Anonymous No.20571329]

Cocoon is heart
Not all bud into beauty
Some dont even break

[Anonymous No.20571333]

>>20571304
Did you give her the poem?

[Anonymous No.20571335]

>>20571323
>it's not just fancy formatting, the spaces and commas are breathing (reading) patterns and structurally it's based on Charles Olson's projective verse
specific patterns in the poem like where each consecutive line is further indented are called cascades, for example
dude i don't give a fuck im never reading that formatting

[Anonymous No.20571341]

>>20571333
I wrote it 26 minutes ago.

[Anonymous No.20571343]

>>20571341
Then, WILL you give it to her?

[Anonymous No.20571347]

>>20571343
Probably not. In the end I hurt her dearly and the good times counted for naught.

[Anonymous No.20571350]

>>20570758
I will add another few lines. thanks. as for the meaning of the cabinets, I am of the opinion that telling people what the meaning is supposed to be is bad form but its a bad poem that I posted on a message board so I will anyway. the cabinets and the floor are just a description of my work space at my job. I got a chuckle out of the suggestion that they might mean a coffin because I feel that is very apt. I like that better as a general picture, the work space being more personal.

[Anonymous No.20571361]

>>20571323
Good luck, idk what you are doing “response”, though the waste land and Maximus are very different and the locality of Maximus it’s so attached to the poetry.

[Anonymous No.20571396]

>>20571350
I guess I was reading more into it lol

[Anonymous No.20571420]

>>20571361
although I'm not a mutt or a britbong or a leaf, my poetry has a lot to do with 'the geography of it' and patterns itself after Maximus' relationship with Gloucester to some extent
btw Olson's "Greeks!" is an absolutely fantastic way to address all of Western man which is something I've set out to do in my work

[Anonymous No.20571440]

>>20571420
No Greek wil be able to discriminate my body!

I always saw Maximus as a call forward to the western dream. I’m working (researching) that right now.
Alongside de chirico, and some of the imagists poets, as well as the New York school

[Anonymous No.20571456]

>>20571347
That's too bad anon. Practice your love poetry for the next girl

[Anonymous No.20571460]

>>20571420
>>20571440
Here’s is some notes for a poem

Shoot a fellow could have a pretty good weekend in Vegas with all that stuff

[Anonymous No.20571873]

>>20571440
for mek Maximus is more a refutation of the western dream as it was and a reformulaiton for those to come, perfeclty encapsulated in the final lines of letter 27 [withheld]:
'I compell Gloucester
to yield, to
change
Polis
is this'
>>20571460
there's a lot of symbolism here and it makes me feel things purely through the imagery, mostly a sense of coarse, (pleasantly)unpleasant nostalgia though I have to admit if there's a specific line the poem's chasing it's lost on me
the line "the long boat still
west sails
sails west"
is like an answer to this snippet from one of my poems
I think between you, me and Olson we've definitively announced the Western man's death

[Anonymous No.20571998]

twisted faces self-flagellate
worship of the enemy
we damnate the memory
abduction of rotting icon
abandonment of burden

[Anonymous No.20572164]

>>20571873
It could be a reformulation, but not a full refutation, he calls back to the Greeks “polis” and says this poem, these people, these situations are the polis, therefore it’s an extension again letter 27 “ Greeks, is the stopping off the battle,
It is the imposing of all those antecedent predecessions, the precessions of me,

the generation of those facts
which are my words, it is coming
from all that I no longer am, yet am,
the slow westward motion of
more
than I am”

It’s an evolution, a revolution in the strictest sense of the word, a turning of the wheel — poetry.

>a sense of coarse, (pleasantly)unpleasant nostalgia

This is what I was going for, check out de Chiricos paintings.
It’s only notes right now though not a complete poem, and this is just a small section.

The long boat calls back to ancient Egypt and the underworld, and I want to connect it to the rise of civilization due to ports.

I see this part of your poem as hopeful, with the “endure” though yes it seems like the blowing out of a match.

[Anonymous No.20572216]

>>20572164
good notes on Olson, I'll add some things I noticed while watching him read the poem tomorrow cause I'm in bed now
you're right that it's hopeful because I (Ozymandias the speaker) endures after the faceless men have all gone, but it is in the context of the rebirth of Man, a more "central" man, it's also why I chose Ozymandias' birthplace somewhere in the Balkans where I'm from

[Anonymous No.20572290]

No names, only pictures
No people, only customers
no personality,simply data
What else would men want, if it has food and naked women
Meaning, affiliation, belonging, love ?
No, only to make a difference, even if it comes to a bullet in a camber, a kind word, a moment of importance
It matters not to be happy, it matters to be useful, all else is luxury, all else is additional, all else is not required

[Anonymous No.20572302]

>>20566257
it didn't rhyme
he will never be a woman

[Anonymous No.20572310]

>>20570765
yes

[Anonymous No.20572357]

The hunt

On nimble heels the hunter flew
With one quick movement,
hand withdrew
Pulled the bowstring to his breast
Aiming for his quarrys chest

Prey alerted. Crunch of leaves
Through the woods the archer weaves
Amongst the bramble and the bark
Takes the shot, but Missed his mark


It's pretty fucking bad desu but it's my first attempt at writing anything

[dis Cr0w⋕5806 No.20572389]

>>20567759
https://vocaroo.com/1fUANmYKY5LC

>>20567797
https://vocaroo.com/15cqCYDYoj0A

>>20566524
https://vocaroo.com/14N3Y2BOvJzO


>>20567833
https://vocaroo.com/1j5iqFuxZziZ

>>20567896
https://vocaroo.com/1lVjXTqbhGTk

>>20567906
https://vocaroo.com/14nPWIUNqUE8

>>20567944
https://vocaroo.com/13Qv3txJL3ag

>>20567966
https://vocaroo.com/1bpMufAENZ4O

>>20568789
https://vocaroo.com/16wO85DRWHAo

>>20569555
https://vocaroo.com/1ceLPoN9K83U

[Anonymous No.20572410]

roses are red
violets are blue
my penis is big
my girlfriend's is too

[Anonymous No.20572416]

>>20572389
You have a nice voice anon, getting me bricked up over here

[Anonymous No.20572421]

if i were a little tiny rat
i'd stay away from nasty cats
i'd hide in holes, wherever they're found:
in walls, in trees, your mom, the ground
if i were a pot i would always be full
i'd be fuller and fatter than a raging bull
if i were a writer (and a writer i am)
i would write as much as a writer can
i would post all my writings on a site called chan
in response to OP; a great big fag

[Anonymous No.20572472]

>>20572389

[Anonymous No.20572519]

>>20572421
>In response OP, a pitiful man
If you're gonna make it rhyme, don't give up halfway through

[Anonymous No.20572649]

>>20567814
kinda. it took a very long time to write so it spanned two "muses". both of them were very kinky but it was always about the relationship i wanted rather than a relationship i had. something more intimate and lasting
>>20568669
thank you.
>>20572389
this was a good listen, thank you for recording.

[Anonymous No.20572694]

>>20572389
Good, man. My gratitude.

[Anonymous No.20572808]

I write for rhymes and childish verses
No complex lies nor well-made tensions
I mean it simple — noble, true
A skull's an emblem of the crew

A pirate ship, no ship of fools
Our captains's ghost told us the rules
Beyond the human petty wants
Reach out for truth and pour from scars
The blood into the holy cup
This time we're coming forth by night

Cease all the desperate spirits! Fly
Away from those well known on high
As well as they are known to depths
Of Might and Magic true adepts

The crew is dead yet they alive
The world can not it fathom: 'why??'
The world can't sneed even if tries
Let Bythos be the only guide
Do, make mistakes and then — REFINE.

The captain's ghost shown us the sign..

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.20572854]

A stanza of a long poem I’m writing.

in the desert of pleasure,
where the west burns the red earth,
with an effortless leisure,
i shall measure his blessed works,
with ever better letters,
that his flesh spurned to death’s hurt,
he, the best word and breath’s birth.
be remembered forever.

Another stanza from the same poem.

metaphysical man’s metamorphosis my manifestation,
multiplicity made monadic my momentary mortal mentality,
move my mind’s many movements monstrous mastery’s maker!
motivate my manifold modalities metathetic meanings,
mystical methodology maximize my momentum,
Maya’s mani my mandalic mantras meditatively mingled,
my minion mara’s my music’s model mutating mahakalachakra,
mazel-mahamudra mazzaroth masking my majesty melech,
my madness mimics mastama making my messiah mahazael!

Two stanzas that follow each other from the same poem.

rapt, captured, mass battered, crash hammers,
slammed backwards, lands staggered, grabs scabbard,
black lacquered hand dagger, man hacker;
“damn bastards! stab faster! “ flash splatter!

splatter with a laughter when bones shatter and brain matter is made scattered in a pattern that’s flame raptured and after it stays fractured.

[Anonymous No.20572864]

>>20572854
>the desert of pleasure
Frater pls

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.20572877]

>>20572864
Reference to the Desert of Daat which is identified in Kabbalah with the lack of meaning that the reason alone has, but also with the pleasure of samadhi when knowledge of god is attained. The desert of pleasure is the sterile place of emotionless mind. This is also in Blake with urizon (ur reason )’s emanation (female equal opposite who must be unified with) is ahania, which is pleasure. Urizon being the evil sterile demiurge in his work who binds the world to his book of iron and drags the particular aspects of nature from the all flowing sea of time, again being balanced by pleasure/ahania.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.20572906]

Gonna post a longer poem i wrote, apologies that it is intentionally written as stiff and meant to feel strangled until the “release “ in “to terror”

Song of Foam.

the Undulating sky, a flowing blue-eyed sway,
the Heiroglyphs of earth are written in red clay,
the ululating sea, the cry of an old lay.

a vial filled with soul, the blood-red wilted rose,
green-gold chrysalid of aleph’s metamorphose,
with careless mouths they cry, the cry of the black crows.

ego, each soul, streams whole, dreams flow, things go, so slow,
so fast they flame the furious full foison goes,
through to the whistle of the whip of lightning gross.

grossly as speech spoken broken crumbled open,
grossly as speech jumbled mumbling in motion,
grossly as murmured susurrus singing oceans.

grape vine’s grape’s cluster up, great wines raise summer‘s cup,
nigh’s highest point past white light’s brightest joy casts night,
ape’s whine pained hungered grunts, day time’s phase cover’s up.

mind’s crisis joins passed nights, binds lifeless coins at sites,
fanes shrines jade sculpture’s cut plates nine names thunders floods,
blind childish voice grants rights, bind’s vice is noise can’t write.

harmony sing for me in new shapes formed from me;

who brought me,
proof godly,
through knot speech?
You promptly,
move thought’s reach,
choosed copies,
fused awfully.
Would God See
Good partly
wode hardly?
brutes trod thē
fruits God leaves,
soon moth’s eat
womb brought meat,
tomb fraught heath’s,
gloom wrought scenes,
rooms gnawed clean,
loom’s naught’s reach.
who’d stop thē
doom’s throb seeks
through God’s Peace
booned lots least
moon Prod’ beast
strew bodies
through darkly
rues, harshly
hues gone, ceased,
choose on dreams,
hoofed fauns leap,
woods, lawns, leafs,
Zeus dawn’s chief,
Nous spotty
used flawed weaves,
loosed broad heaves
through wrought speech;
Truth God’s Peak,
You Cloth me.


to terror and the thunder of the night of life,
by Blazon and by bolt of mind I pry from strife,
the edge the blade the spine and handle of the knife.

and this is it, the knife of mind which pours the gouts,
and this is it, the knife of thought which slays the doubts,
and this is it, the knife of Art which flings the shroud.

Cont

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.20572918]

>>20572906
i do not wander lonely as a cloud on breeze,
i pierce the daffodil and shout aloud the keys,
key! call! cry! gate! door! steps! by the man’s mouth I seize!


these these these these I seize and yet I am not pleased,
no less no more no yes no or no yet nor least,
the most i seize the ghost and boast sweet peace’ release.

striped as the stripes of whipped water,
in welts waver
the sounds of nature resounds ever.

dappled as time that dews and tans the leaf brightly,
from green to tawny,
both dawns in amber sheens.

time sings “me” “make you kin with me, akin to me”
makes of me from thee,
this is free, this is light, this is three, made aright.

this is light and life and lief to laughing in love,
coveted by clock and comb and cell of the touch,
riven by much and given as such to slave some.

how long is much the master of the some?
until the much is summed,
until the sun and sunflower is one,

is it infinite ongoing continuous unending and limitless?
is it limited? stillborn? ruinous?
being beyond being one behind one?

none the sum and cut the one to become the wondrous,
just in justice, lust in lustrous, one in wondrous,
Lord the crux and compass, numerous and wondrous.

lord your more,
than door or floor,
than lore or core,
than hoary war,
than stories of glory.

luminous and lovely lord,
the storehouse of the hues suffusing,
no, fusing, through the loosening,
of the rhythms humming and spinning,

the tumbling,
of tumulus,
with tumultus!

burster of graves!
freer of slaves!
looser of chains!
pulser of veins!
humor of brains!
ruler of planes!

life to the limbs! revery of the thoughts flowing,
life to the limbs! liberty of the thews moving,
life to the limbs! synergy of the things oozing!

you ripple and you dapple through,
“what to do?
make it new.”


now foam, foam, foam with wannish figures,
with whispered pictures,
signed with the fingers,
of lingering thoughts.

Cont

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.20572925]

>>20572918
the taste of old ways gone, of things far gone so long,
i hear the song again but something sounds so wrong,
it looks the same and yet, its changed, it looks so gone.

the foam, the foam, the foam, I roam by word,
striped as the white sky lined by birds,
stir the foam.

cascades of colors cataracts,
crumbling the crucibles of black,
bursting to wild and fanged figures.

they file, they throng, they stream,
like a dream,
their eyes share the same gleam.

they ream the rim with froth,
teeming to the brim the broth,
of thoughts beteemed the diadem of thought.

they cloth with cloths of diaphanous sensuous senses,
they cloth with cloths of tremulous excesses,
they cloth with cloths of strange women with foreign voices.

with an outrageous gait they have bereaved
of rest the raging senses of the man,
raging the rage of him as;

the rage of struck drum,
the rage of wild flute,
the rage of plucked string,
and the kingly rage of singing.

turn my rage to manly theme!

I bring,
the king,
a manly spring!

spring from me spring of stilted wave,
as my song bubbles in still waves,
usher from hill and usher from cave,
gush as a geyser from the cave.

geyser, skies blur, eyes turn, fires rise and burn,
free as a flame I dart the main and seas churn,
earth is dispersed,

earth is cursed,
earth is girth,
earth is burst!

all being barred, bereft of raft or craft or graft,
i grasp with gasps the staff,
of halved halfs halved by wrath,

laughing mad with gladness i crack the crash jag zags,
i drink to dregs the drag and push the drooping nous,
through the neck down past the legs,

it returns in shades regurgitated,
it seems worth the faith,
he’s worth the wait.


you foam my God.

i asked myself what makes distinct,
The triune unity,
i saw one continuity,
defined by being linked.

i Saw love,
I touched love,
i saw love foam.

what is formal distinction?
the thing as it is,
in human depiction,
and in selfsameness.

then I divide the man from man,
but who divides the God from God?

Cont

[Anonymous No.20572927]

>>20572906
First few stanzas are pretty kino

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.20572930]

>>20572925
two is a composite being,
conjoint of lasting and fleeting,
of strong and weakling.

and one’s defined by two and none,
and these are the three things sublime,
ever in alignment

what comes before both? what makes both?
it is love it is love it is love it is love.

for Love is unified as one and more,
is crucified by more than one.
for love must love, and in self loves.

thus love is touched by love,
thus father son and dove,
are Love, love’s Loved and Love’s love.

Unified by division, divided by unity,
continuous in being thus One and root of one,
the root and shoot and fruit of truth.

thus God foams God,
thus God knows God,
thus God shows God.

foaming to self with Love of Love in a love endless,
God forms a kind of trellis of his precious breath,
his self is terraced by his self, is paved by self.

For God reveals to God his God,
his rod has plot the even and the odd,
to reveal each part of God to God through God.

in time he trods and trods examining the whole,
the multiplicity of his attributed soul,
their aspects endless and yet they show;

one being, one aspect, one attribute,
in one abstraction.

atop a lake whose depths were bottomless,
i saw the foam of an unpassing moment,
foam to the top of the lake translucent,
arising from the deep with sprays of effluvia,
intoxicated with its poison,
i saw a lurid serpent,
upon its head was writ a mystery.

“DEUS ABSTRACTUS EST DEUS ABSCONDITUS”

and the ringed body of it was tainted with the many colors of the earth,
and the face hurt with the hurt felt by the scorned lover and the scorned father,
and the writhing form cried awful tears corrupt with pangs and twangs of pain and hurt,
and the black waters streamed forth the reflections of the horned monster.

i saw beyond,
the flawed pond,
To God’s font.

Cont

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.20572934]

>>20572930
nothings strange,
and no sea-change,
can estrange,
from my gaze,
your rayed face,
ancient of days,
who formed the clay,
who fixed the way,
who fed the stray,
who heard me pray,
who took the weight,
who took the pain,
who filled the vain.
who stilled the brain,
who wilt that trains
of angels flame
as dancing flames,
singing the flame
that flames the flame,
the name which names,
the frame which frames,

the same the same the same the same the same!

God of my Mind!
in foam I bind,
an awful sign,
for it is mine.

Sign of God and signified!
most magnified and dignified!
you are one God unified!

“Mercury a myrrh sea a blurry flurry,
to satiate the thirsty on their journey,
from earthly dirty things to pearly worthiness.”

not so, I chant the names.

effervescence, spindrift, surf, spume, froth,
i intoning the names of the things wrought,
to give by God from God to God’s each thought;

the dome of the stone, the home of the foam.

in idolatry of the personality I rise,
casting against the skies the shadows from my eyes,
for I cast off and gain the guise of aye,
at last I stain my sighs and cries,
with astral chains and lies,
i die, i die,
arise,
I.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.20572938]

>>20572927
Thanks! My idea was to write the beginning more and more mannered and Apollonian until it didn’t resemble speech, felt strangled, so that it could “burst” into a Dionysian mode, which begins with “to terror.”

[Anonymous No.20572992]

>>20572938
I do appreciate all your little formal experiments as their own thing but I have to be honest that my favorite parts of your poetry are always the more sort of normal bits.

[Anonymous No.20573001]

>>20572216
Good shit anon

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.20573018]

>>20572992
I see them like weight training with heavier weights, if I can make really hard stuff bend then I can use it practically in Normal stuff with more smoothness. Here’s a short poem I wrote integrating both modes, or trying at least. Last I’ll post for now since I know it’s obnoxious.

My eye blazes the sun’s burning.

The blush of the blue sky is rose flushed,
The bough of the tree blooms with fresh flowers,
The rush of the wind flings the decked bowers,
Making the human eye grow lush.

Pink suns would dye plain earth bonny red,
Sing love should my nature calmly fret,
Brink of brook my brain bursts balmy breath,
King, son, book, high named, mirth, body’s death.

Idyllic idol of crystal whose title is ancient of days,
By phrase in rhyme I praise by mine sayings twined,
As spindle’s winding I’ve brindled and bridled my idle ways,
I place thine sign’s trace and bind the blind and base.

Blessed Being Bring Beauty’s Blameless Breath!
Bold Barry Brawny Blooming Boundless Breadth!
Breast Bolted By Baldur’s Blotting Blazing Barbs!
Brightened Bow Broken Bough Bent bars!
Blithe Babble-Barme’d Bacchhian Born!
Blazon Blemishless But Blamed Batrachian Bourne!
Brandished Blade Burning Bone blee!
Banished Brick But Building’s Best Beam!
Bring Between Both Bears Baal!
Basphemous Blendling Bare Black Bale!
Bream Baboon Bellow Bodily Bliss!
By Booming Brawling Break Batin’s Brim!

I cried as cast damned madness
A sight rapt past man’s palace,
fOr I had basked vasts matchless
Where All chant glad cants balanced.

[Anonymous No.20573062]

>>20570748
Thanks anon. That's all there is to it.

[Anonymous No.20573215]

>>20573018
How/why are you so good at this shit?

[Anonymous No.20573229]

>>20573215
He is a based autist and toils away at these arcane poetic forms

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.20573339]

>>20573215
Practice study practice study practice study practice study. I am not satisfied with my level of skill and won’t be until I reach a limit to my learning. I’m sure if you anons tried writing in the same regulations you’d pick it up faster than I have.

[Anonymous No.20573346]

>>20573339
oh i'm better than you but you're almost at my level which is endlessly fascinating to me i am a fan of yours, generally

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.20573357]

>>20573346
Based post some!

[Anonymous No.20573433]

>>20573062
I feel like it could use a little more honestly. Poe said many poets end poems too early instead of letting a good thing have some more meat on it. Paraphrasing obviously.

[Anonymous No.20573610]

>>20572854
This reminds me of Mars Volta and Danny Brown

[Anonymous No.20573751]

Wrote this for an English class in my last month of high school. I don't really understand meter but I recited it upwards of nine times nevertheless.

On a cold December morning came a day which seemed forlorn

Twas a band trip with some faggots on that frosty Winter morn

We arrived in old Chicago deep with boredom I was fraught

My delusions of a decent trip were sure to come to naught

After walking half a mile from the bus which I was tossed

I fell victim to a hobo who was seeking to accost

My bandmates, who were with me, pled "give the poor your cash

But with acumen I countered "no, that's my hooker stash!"

[Anonymous No.20573887]

>>20570996
poem would be too good without response hahaha


>>20571162
why do you


>>20571095
in grad school's steamy womb


>>20571233
>I pretended I didn't either
you slow?


>>20571323
>>20571095
come on my podcast

[Anonymous No.20573923]

>>20566221
Careless

But the people do not listen,
And I am afraid to tell them,
Because then, it seems,
I will join them
So I say nothing, and watch them destroy
Themselves,
And everyone around them

Nature will choose what it wants then,
I guess
I will have children,
And I will replace them
And a new generation of men
Will step in and say -- nothing
This to their sons, and their sons’ sons
More men who got it right the first time

What a bunch of nothing
What a bunch of fucking nothing
The cycle of nonsense, presupposition
Just stays if it stays
And goes if it goes
So much for your sister, or your tranny brother
So much for freckles, flowers, the cow’s moo
Just niggers and death and movement
Whatever

[Anonymous No.20574098]

>>20570933
You're welcome, anon
>>20570996
Reads just like a list, doesn't it?
>>20571324
>>20571329
These read kind of like epigrams, or something similar. Not bad
>>20572290
Sounds rough. Thank God we do not live in a world like that...
>>20572310
I'll have to give it another go then.
>>20572357
It isn't bad. It's fun to read. With a few more stanzas and some refinement it would be pretty good. Not every poem has to be a complex masterpiece. The simple fun ones are very nice as well.

[Anonymous No.20574125]

>>20572389
Thanks a bunch for reciting so many of my poems! You have a very deep, anouncer-like voice.

[Anonymous No.20574152]

>>20572410
lol. Well done.
>>20572421
>>20572472
I agree. You almost had it
>>20572808
There's some pretty cool lines in here about pirates, like the last 2 of the first stanza and the first 2 of the second. There's others I like as well though. But what's with the sneed toward the end? lol

[Anonymous No.20574155]

>>20566221
The Old Knight

When I am old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
To a young man I loved, and see if I
Was really a greatful lover, or a thief.

Bare with me as I try to make amends
And admit the faults that I have done
For I was young and unwise and full of lust
And I took what I could from who I wanted

For I was a knight without honor
And I bedded many a maid
But I never stopped to think of their hearts
Or the pain that I would cause

But now I am old and I see things clear
And I know that I was wrong
And I am sorry for all the hearts I broke
And the pain that I have caused

So to the young man I loved, I say sorry
For I was a thief of hearts
But I am old now and I have learned
And I hope that you can forgive

[Anonymous No.20574163]

>>20566221

A monk in China I did see,
His robe was fashioned simple and plain,
But on his face there was a smile,

As if he knew some secret truth,
And found contentment in his life
Of solitude and prayer.

He seemed to radiate serenity,
And though I could not understand,
I knew that he was wise.

His eyes were calm and clear and bright,
And in them I could see the light
Of some eternal Power.

I knew not what to say to him,
But in his presence I felt calm,
And at peace with all around.

[Anonymous No.20574177]

>>20572854
I like the last two stanzas. Very fun to read. Reminds me alot of rap.
>>20572906
>>20572918
>>20572925
Same with this. Very fun to read.

[Anonymous No.20574190]

>>20573751
What did your teacher think?

[Anonymous No.20574287]

>>20574190
I squandered my high school years away acting like a deranged sperg so she wasn't particularly unnerved by this little stunt. A bit prior to this I scared a ftm tranny out of the class with my 20 slide presentation on Lavrentiy Beria, replete with vivid accounts his rapes and Jewish ties. Oh, and there was my 23 page long political manifesto which I posted to the classroom steam. Good times good times... someone asked me how I managed to get away with it during a senior photo, so I donned a knights Templar helmet and asked my buddy to hand me a crippled kid's crutch, which I waved around screaming "I'm crusading against the trannies, a trip to the office won't deter me" in a crowd of people

That reminds me, if by miracle my phone's still registered to the McDonald's ip and this post goes through, I meant to write my poem in 4 stanzas consisting of two lines each...botched the presentation a bit in my last post

I assume the three anons or so lurking so deep in the thread wouldn't particularly care, but I'm a bit of an autist for these things

[Anonymous No.20574291]

[Anonymous No.20574304]

Privateer's Reunion

Morning mountains in the mist,
Sorely sights of you I've missed,
For from sea to silver sea,
None your mettle did I see,
That when fixed upon a cot,
Sickness for your shades I caught.
Finally back, my journey led,
Past disease and flying lead,
For that danger, my just due
Well-earned, thy slopes in sunrised dew.

[Anonymous No.20574305]

>>20574287
Where did you go to school that this wasn't a huge problem? I had friends in Alberta that could do crazy stuff and get away with it.

[Anonymous No.20574344]

>>20573887
>You slow?
What do you mean? What's wrong with that line?

[Anonymous No.20574351]

>>20573887
no grad school for me
what podcast would that be?

[Anonymous No.20574399]

Byearn

You let me sit on your lap
My face buried between the delightful crook of your neck and shoulder
A vast expanse I’ve yet to conquer
Cheek-to-cheek
Chest-to-chest
Letting me sniff your oddly sweet hair
Rubbing my head against you
Practically purring

Tasteless
Salt slight
Liquid pearl
Like it came from a warm body
The way you twitched and jutted in my mouth
I made quick, easy art of you
Fingers and the divine length of you
Like your body was made for me

Perhaps I’m in a scene
Too perfect not to be
Too many nights spent dreaming about it
The shape of you hardening
neath that thin layer
Surrendering to the surreal
Swirling around the secret
Swallowing by the sinful

Have other girls commented on it before?
This curious birthmark I coyly mouthed around?
There’s probably a bunch of these marks hidden all over your body
Like the twin moles on your palm
That you used to wrap around my fingers
Or throat
I don’t mind finding more of them to taste

A promise of next time
And the next thereafter
Sealed between lips holding back laughter
Wishing I had felt your heat travel down my throat.

[Anonymous No.20574435]

>>20567759
Very good. Saved. I appreciate the kumquats/cum lots at the end.

>>20567797
>>20567966
>>20572357
>>20571329
Enjoyed these as well.

[Anonymous No.20574460]

David Greenglass, who sent his sister
Ethel Rosenberg to the electric chair,
Checked his Soviet spy contact
By matching halves of a torn boxtop.
Many couples seem to fit like this:
The natural marriage. Mine was so.
We were in no way identical; but
The edge between us somehow fit,
Wave by wave and tear by tear,
Till the Wheaties logo felt whole.
She is still with me in the house—
I keep seeing her in the bathroom.
Then there are whole categories
Of unequal pairings. I pass over
These, without condemnation.
The one other kind of connection
Is the rarest, hardest and most divine:
The marriage of the tiger and the wolf,
Two supernal animals, irreversibly
Distinct from each other, who agree
To tame each other, and be tamed
By each other—to accept each other
Who can never become each other.
The wolf visits the forest-swamp.
He will never, ever like leeches.
He learns to ambush, after a fashion.
The tiger may trot with him a way,
Far enough but no further, across
The green and anteloped hills,
Tiring and tiresome hills, without
Water or camouflage, until—
Then rest. But be up for the kill,
Or at very least the meal—but
Wolf-pursued, no elk expects
To meet and greet a resting tiger.
The old union, the marriage of nature,
Completed the Platonic sphere,
From jagged halves an ideal whole.
This reaction is a marriage of power,
A magical union, not a biblical union,
Not even like any other like it,
A bubbling flask of something green,
An underground volcano lab
Where unnatural syntheses are made;
Chimeras and unicorns, Frankensteins,
Goats that give the finest merino wool.

[Anonymous No.20574535]

>>20573887
you have a podcast?

[Anonymous No.20574750]

>>20574535
Isn't it obvious? Look at the format of his post.

[Anonymous No.20574871]

>>20574750
reddit spacing
god damn it I should've known

[Card !jHyPHNoKGY No.20575180]

>>20574305
True. You can get away with a lot of stuff in Alberta

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.20575242]

>>20574460
Very current 93, check out Arthur brown

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.20575250]

Posting another long poem since it’s been a bit.

Bask:a meditation.

I bask in Bosky brooks of green,
That ever seem,
To stream and bask the morning sun,
In water’s run,
That running basks the dewy leaves,
That light receives,
To bask itself in selfsame gleam,
The rounding beam,
That basks the sprig and basks the rays
In ever Grace.
Gift from God the going growth,
Trice to trice from mo to mo,
Velum mouth to throat-inwit,
There I drink and there I sit,
Where the grigs that crick the sound,
And the grigs that drift abound,
There I’m found where windring gale,
Mutinous hail and snows pale
Do not harm the vale and comb,
Hushing not the soft sea foam,
Hushing not the thrush’s hum,
All at once the sounds become,
As one echoing and yet,
Count I still my ev’ry breath.
Dulcet gaud, meander’d letters,
Troding ‘fore and past hereafter,
Sweet is laughter laughed sans mew,
Soaring through the spangled hues
Of the sphery flames of eyne,
To the oes far more divine,
Where my lode’s design was wrought,
There the lodestars flame with ought.
Great God! these the leaves are lines
First forged from before all time!
Lief to achromatic life,
Loathe to leave this honyed hive,
But without the many hues,
All became an oozy slew,
Slaty lights environed all,
But then strangely silver brawled.
Grazing grass I gazed the vast,
With my galleon I passed,
An illimitable pale
Marked by margents made to veil,
So i sailed the gullies bright,
Trailing “I” the selfsame’s light.
Once I was the traveler,
Once I was the reveler,
Now revealed I transverse earth,
Place and planes of dimmer dirt.

Cont

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.20575253]

>>20575250
Walking past the earthly lanes,
In the dusky fell demesnes,
Fell on causy foot in fall,
Fell on verdant grasses all,
Why I asked am I to pass
Streets of verdigris stained brass?
What to find and what to seek,
Asking what? i could not speak,
Who to speak then, i should ask,
Yet I could not face that task.
For a mo with woe i went,
Woe to know what all things meant,
There I dreamt my shadow me,
There I dreamt by sorcery,
Forms of thronging shadows cast,
Four by four and both ways fast,
For my four were fast to leave,
and my four to fasten cleaved,
I believe the meaning this,
For I felt a kind of bliss,
I was this and yet was not,
Shadows being naught I thought
were the paramount of lack,
Why then in there colly black
Was my body’s form and trace
Marching past and yet in chase
Of my self to self attend,
Dwelling darkling swerve to bend,
Without end my friends would walk,
“These be they? then let us talk”
Thronging self in nothing drest,
Where “I” lacks there I’m impressed!
Blessed be this epiphany,
Void is the epitome
Of my self as much as I,
For by “not” I know me by,
All things God has given shade,
Twinning shadows in their play,
Ever turning shade of time,
Ever lurking shade sublime,
Sweeter than the many lights
Is to know this sweet delight,
Mingled multitudes of forms
In monadic flame and storm,
Are reborn more than the one,
Not as single not as none,
Massy, mazy, many, my,
God is both, beyond confine,
Search the mind until you find,
God in kind and undefined;

Cont

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.20575259]

>>20575253
From inverted heights of night,
Innermost shines ego’s light,
From the checkered streaks of night,
The ineffably still light,
Checkers self with other’s hint,
Checkers other with the dint
Of the mark of marks bereft,
Weaving’s whorl the webbing’s weft,
Warp and woof the wefting kedge,
Warping folds from edge to edge,
From stern head to straightened bow,
Bending trunk and staying bough,
Flaming font and kelson soft,
Swelling skies and oceans waft,
Lofty lightning leaps the land,
What of sand? can god fold sand?
Am I soft sift sands adrift?
Am I dolent grains in shift?
Lone to come, again to pass?
And alas are you the glass
Of some hourglass of years,
Coldly ordering the spheres?
God oh God I am the Cold!
You are warm to touch and hold,
You are fold and rose and hook,
You are gold and gross and book,
You are quincunx’d crisscrossed Christ,
Fourfold letters with one geist,
Good and evil, more and less
Trellis trellised in one breast.
Double shadows sweine the brine,
Shine from murk and murk from shine,
Circles words with aught and naught,
Clothing God with God for cloth,
God the Flag of God I droop,
Most high and the nether loops,
Symbolized and broken sign,
Signified ensigns assigned,
God has strung and God is wad,
Shadows cast the colored God.
Peacock, peacock, peacock light,
Wherewith rainbow colors dight,
Burst the abrasaxon egg,
Stting still leg over leg,
Perichoresis ablaze
All eidolon idols slain,
Phantasmagoria dreamed,
Fresh eyed by the flowing stream,
God the bosky brooks unmasked!
All in all things always basks.

[Anonymous No.20575411]

It had almost been two years,
since I last heard a word.
And not until that ill-fated search,
that I had my fears confirmed.

I let you know that your generous time was not in vain,
and that I hope for you, the flip side holds no pain.

Do you still trace along the streets where we once walked?
And get lost in the alleys and trellises where we always talked?
Now every piece of you in town fades with the sun.
And the streetlight's glow washes away all that we won.

Those scratches on your heart grew deeper all of the time.
But your smile grew wider, and the marks found a place to hide.

Some nights I tell myself that I won't feel too bad.
I woe and wallow, all the nothing that we had.

[Anonymous No.20575450]

The formula: arcana 13->3of wands->princess of cups

Old mechanisms buried blighted
Patterns of behavior lay rotting
Under many a moon and mud and stone.
Tempestuous river gives its correspondence
In an occultation of primal substance.
What virtue, born anew,
Like a root or a chute
Whose fealty is paid to the sun?
Aye, these ram's horns imply war. Imply blood. Imply life.
Water crystallizes into sheets of glaciers.
These new conducts of the soul solidify
In the strengths of their experiences.
But what was buried never truly was.
Desire is slave to phantasmagoria
And in this endless production,
I am made fresh-like, whites-as-snow.
As iron abused in the forge, yet woundless.
To one day have its shining moment in sanguine rains; its gleam reflects the eye of it's foe.
Each chip of the blade and scar upon its face- marks of victory.

[Anonymous No.20575563]

Sneed
it's all I know
how to say
I type it
so fluidly
caress
Enter
unravel
CAPTCHA
become
not a robot
human again
I live
to Sneed

[Anonymous No.20575760]

>>20575250
>>20575253
>>20575259
Frater, usually I'd be the first to defend you but you're hogging the damn thread man, people can't have decent discussions because they're broken up by these walls of text
you're also not getting any feedback since people on here generally don't have the attention span for pieces this long

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.20575881]

>>20575760
Sorry!

[Anonymous No.20576365]

>>20575563
>>20566257
>>20572808
>>20574152
wherever I am I must also.. sneed.

[Anonymous No.20577442]

Bump

[Anonymous No.20578044]

[Anonymous No.20578194]

>>20578044

[Anonymous No.20578652]

>>20572877
That remind me, what do you recommend for getting into Kabbalah? I take it you can't just nosedive into the Zohar

[Anonymous No.20579399]

Beauté fixée qui me piège
inarrêtable manège
soûlant mon âme du tournis
qui l'attire et qu'elle fuit

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.20579889]

>>20578652
Your best introduction is to begin via Kaplan’s work, inner space, Jewish meditation, meditation and the Bible and his other introductory work, then read his commentary on the sepher yetzirah, then I would recommend studying the academic work of gershom scholem which is more academic but will deep dive you further, then study the academic work of moshe idel, from here you can basically read any kabbalistic text you desire and all three men will have shilled a multitude of texts to you. If you need a link to the mega with a lot of occult works I’ll provide it.

[Anonymous No.20580920]

>>20579399
In English?

[Anonymous No.20581517]

>>20580920
fixed beauty who traps me
unstoppable carousel
that drunks my soul all dizzy
which she rises when it fell

i'ts not word for word i tried to translate the spirit of it but not sure if the "fell" works but i tried to make it rime at least

[Anonymous No.20581978]

>>20568549
good stuff

[Anonymous No.20582079]

>>20581978
Thank you

[Anonymous No.20582093]

>>20575250
>>20575253
>>20575259
Are there poets that write in this alliterative style that you are inspired by? Or did you come to this mostly yourself?

[Anonymous No.20582096]

>>20574399
Gay or woman?

[Anonymous No.20582106]

>>20574155
It seems very shallow.
>>20573923
Generally didn't like it, but the last few lines had a nice rhythm and I liked the ending in "Whatever"

[Anonymous No.20582171]

Scribbled on a napkin at 3am

Intel ineffectually
Broadly casting
The widest possible
Envelope

Cumming down the pipeline dearie-o
Your Cheerios are making many men
Mechanically defiecent

And yours and mine prolongated childshould

Favorably stressing the imcompetent compost
Potential of scrambled latin cognastros

Witness death of trace-facing mythical mouthing off
Self-effacingly noticing the mystic hysteria

Of-Without divisionally long ratio tampopo
Dick delivering (as in) shoving it in (the)
Comprehensible acidic viewpoint
Of the automated logicon.
Good Grecian masterwork
In phonetic upholstery
Gunslingin around
gra mercy cadillac,
Materialist Swine!

Excuse me miss I like ma salad mixed
w/ a bit a resentment

Shortmanos de bajo de banjo que what
Now pablo Picasso? You maimstream
Emaciated forever a cardboard cutout
Behind blinds peepin all hornylike at
The wellsian hot coffee
estate managing ur-magician
(as in) the aphrodisiac apostle
Innanna wanna slap dat ass

Cast a spell o boiling agua across
The male mammalian gaze ma lady

Thumb drumbling dick bustin
Finger crushing the unrhymable
Ing lings at the endings of every
Becomings.

Remarakbly wile EE offshoots the coyote
Hamstrung barbarbours barmitzvah
Canyon-a-ning

Ill ‘ave a fag please says mi boi johnny
And lites a virtual torch to the logical proof
Of fatalism that fucked an old friend
Sideways snubbed of an immunizing
White blood cell call speculare, (as in) mirror,
Reflection-eer-ing the slippery thang-in-itself
Known otherwise by his radio name ‘Nicht”

Screeching out of that untimely revelatory
Adventoura vhere the words put together themselves
More sensibly and we be signifying signing off

G’night lads G’night ladies
good night sweet Orphelian miseries.

[Anonymous No.20582178]

>>20566221
I have not loved the world, nor the world me;
I have not flattered its rank breath, nor bowed
To its idolatries a patient knee, -
Nor coined my cheek to smiles, nor cried aloud
In worship of an echo; in the crowd
They could not deem me one of such; I stood
Among them, but not of them; in a shroud
Of thoughts which were not their thoughts, and still could,
Had I not filed my mind, which thus itself subdued.

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.20582805]

>>20582093
Bit of both, I in myself enjoy alliteration and from the beginning over abused it, but there’s three groups of writers who use it highly that I take a lot of inspiration from.

1=Anglo Saxon verse, of which the most alliteration dense example is the “ The Awntyrs off Arthure”

Here’s a small portion of it.

“
“ In the tyme of Arthur an aunter bytydde,
By the Turne Wathelan, as the boke telles,
Whan he to Carlele was comen, that conquerour kydde,
With dukes and dussiperes that with the dere dwelles.
To hunte at the herdes that longe had ben hydde,
On a day thei hem dight to the depe delles,
To fall of the femailes in forest were frydde,
Fayre by the fermesones in frithes and felles.
Thus to wode arn thei went, the wlonkest in wedes,
Bothe the Kyng and the Quene,
And al the doughti bydene.
Sir Gawayn, gayest on grene,
Dame Gaynour he ledes”

The second influence would be the decadent/aesthetic movement poets like Swinburne and hopkins who desired a mixture of musicality and artificiality, here’s a poem by hopkin and an excerpt from an extreme example of Swinburne.

Inversnaid by hopkin.

“This darksome burn, horseback brown,
His rollrock highroad roaring down,
In coop and in comb the fleece of his foam
Flutes and low to the lake falls home.
A windpuff-bonnet of fáawn-fróth
Turns and twindles over the broth
Of a pool so pitchblack, féll-frówning,
It rounds and rounds Despair to drowning.
Degged with dew, dappled with dew,
Are the groins of the braes that the brook treads through,
Wiry heathpacks, flitches of fern,
And the beadbonny ash that sits over the burn.
What would the world be, once bereft
Of wet and of wildness? Let them be left,
O let them be left, wildness and wet;
Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.”

Excerpt from nephelidia

“ From the depth of the dreamy decline of the dawn through a notable nimbus of nebulous noonshine,
Pallid and pink as the palm of the flag-flower that flickers with fear of the flies as they float,
Are they looks of our lovers that lustrously lean from a marvel of mystic miraculous moonshine,
These that we feel in the blood of our blushes that thicken and threaten with throbs through the throat?
Thicken and thrill as a theatre thronged at appeal of an actor's appalled agitation,
Fainter with fear of the fires of the future than pale with the promise of pride in the past;
Flushed with the famishing fullness of fever that reddens with radiance of rathe recreation,
Gaunt as the ghastliest of glimpses that gleam through the gloom of the gloaming when ghosts go aghast?
Nay, for the nick of the tick of the time is a tremulous touch on the temples of terror,”

Cont

[Frater Asemlen !XS8vrClKs2 No.20582810]

>>20582805
The third example would be the contemporary living technical rappers, here for an example is an excerpt from Kxng crooked.

Excerpt from sickology 101, verse 2

“ They keep me crushing the competition
Coming correct when creating the crazy composition
Cannibal character, Calico carrier
Got a crooked coppa missing
Cali killers on candid cock emissions
That was constant cotenant wordplay
Wordplay rhymes with Thursday and thirsty, if I'm thurstay
I change the pronunciation of words, per se
The English language gotta do whatever my verse say “

[Anonymous No.20583347]

>>20582096
A woman. Though you’re welcome to think of the narrator as a gay man if that turns you on more.

[Anonymous No.20583669]

>>20583347
I think reading the perspective of a woman is just as gay anyways, so no need.

[Anonymous No.20583777]

I’m writing a poem-
Someday…….

Here is a short list
Of beasts I will slay:
New York Damsels,
Who weep for Hart Crane.

[Anonymous No.20584021]

"Laws of Motion"
White lines on the road say it's safe to pass
white lines on the back of my phone say it's okay to pass
the time
whiling away in days hazy like cataracts
a mist rising at waterfall's end, never concluding
only briefly writhing as it continues its descent eternally.

I move like twisted metal, ripped from earth and beaten
into shape, bit by bit and shipped across continents
assembled and sold in the U.S. of A
careening down the highway, swerving, going eighty.

The magic of the eight ball is governed by chaos
a prism suspended in liquid decides the future
dictated by gravity's fate, fluid dynamics, and the hope of better days, amorphous hate, the outcome of a date

It moves when struck by the cue, only once the ones
who were its brothers have gone away, a lonely
march to the hole at the end of the game
deep like centimeters or feet

Post-nasal drip in the sinus cavity, pulling in opposite directions
the rest of sedation and drive of frenzy
the up of elation, the down of decay, the rest of life laid
like intersections on a map and exits pass
in the rear view in split seconds. The ever present reflection
never ages, only sniffs occasionally, adjusting the mirror
and shifting focus to the white lines, blurring into one, becoming clearer.