To write poetry after Artemis II
is barbaric

>>25202370
>OC
The Hallowed:

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

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

Did I die?

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

>>25202370
Song of Cleansing

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

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

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

Laments of an Anon

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

>>25202637
kek

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

>>25202370
dat nigga yeats changed my life

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

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

PARADISE LOST, BOOK IX

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

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

Then Adam’s inner thoughts after discovering this:

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

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

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>>25203854
>>25203908
Love Blake’s art

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

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

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

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

Soft shiny golden bob
Eyes wide seashore blues
Skin alabaster
Lioness

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

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

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

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

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

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

>>25204313

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

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

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

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

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

Magno Neruda.

>>25204351
>book of questions
Thanks fren.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fucking gay
And empty day
Major poltroon every way

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

>>25205058

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

>>25205359
you are brown I can smell it

>>25205369

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

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

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

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

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

>>25205455
Literally just write a poem about that. If it's earnest, it's earnest. Or give me an idea of the kind of thing you'd write so I can attempt to ape you.

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Poetry isn't my hood scene
I'm a minister of "hoe-ology"
I push tranq on poor whites
I drink sprite between greedy bites
Of Popeyes

I'm a Mormon Priest
My wife, I've loved her least
Because I coveted a newer
Younger-little showpiece
Bless my sinues and knees

I'm a jungle man
Was on a walkabout . . .
To walk was the plan
"Shek da booty
Shek da booty"

I'm a teen from the midwest
They wright about my scene
On Pitchfork and "subreddits"
God, I need help
Please God, send it

I'm a gruff daddy
The '70s were dark bohemian times
The bathhouse: went inside
And when they shuttered
Tried the fire-escape

I want to tell you
Something that I missed about
My identity as a thug selling bricks
I'm not black
I'm Indian -- kinda wack!

>>25205433
I can give you some of my work cuz I'm Cyrano. Lmk, Christian.

what part of no contact don't you understand?
i want to be a one man band.
i'm trying to leave but you won't let me go
your kindness all along
was just for show.

no journal can help me
no forum can help me

i trace back the steps to how i got myself into this mess.
from the start it was me vs carlsen, 1v1 chess.

please let me go
you stupid hoe

>>25206884
No.

Unsere Liebe;

In träger, träumender Trübung, Isolde,
bin ich deines Verlangens im Bilde.
Meine keuchend, keimende Knospe
sei Morgendämmerung in unserem Gemälde.

Thisbe, mein lebendiges, loderndes Licht.
Ruht die Hoffnung in meiner Sicht.
Reift die reizende Rose in deiner Pupille,
trotz Mittagssonne und unserer Stille.

Echo, so schweigt die sanfte Schönheit herzlich,
so sage ich der seelenruhigen Sehnsucht vergeblich,
dass die schwarze Welke in unserer Seele
im Zwielicht nur noch Leere wäre.

>>25203922
It looks like Adam is getting cucked by Satan.
Well I suppose he did, in a manner of speaking.

>>25204137
Don’t wait any longer.

>>25205433
In June they print the graded college poems
The students write at their instructor's say
In magazines that no one reads or owns
Until they get past graduation day
And then develop morbid fondness for
The hasty sketches scribbled, unadorned
By technical ability galore,
Finagled in a maple-tabled dorm

If only I could could come up with a poem
Or even just a sequence of haiku!
I cannot for the life of me intone
A mellifluent verse to contribute
Just clumsy pictures and overwrought prose
Half eaten metaphors and rhyming codes
Where are you -oh Muse? Why are you hidden
from me, breath of my lips, ink of my soul

>>25205433
How about some translation? You can have this one. I'm never going to get round to doing him all and even if I did no-one would publish it.


Noli admirari, quare tibi femina nulla,
Rufe, velit tenerum supposuisse femur,
non si illam rarae labefactes munere vestis
aut perluciduli deliciis lapidis.
laedit te quaedam mala fabula, qua tibi fertur
valle sub alarum trux habitare caper.
hunc metuunt omnes, neque mirum: nam mala valde est
bestia, nec quicum bella puella cubet.
quare aut crudelem nasorum interfice pestem,
aut admirari desine cur fugiunt.

— Catullus

Don’t wonder, Rufus, why you sleep alone,
Without some girl to offer you caresses,
Despite your endless gifts of pretty dresses
And necklaces of rare translucent stone.
I’ve heard some nasty rumours. In the vale
Beneath your arms a goat resides, it’s said.
This scares them off. Quite right! To go to bed
With such a filthy’s beast’s beyond the pale.
So try to smell more like a human being,
Or otherwise get used to people fleeing.

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>>25202370
Is Hughes’ reimagining of Philomela a confession of abusing women?

[bad poetry#46]
The crown's cursed throne is best left there
Say what you will of the kingdom
but some people still live.
Facing backwards now with his
troop thoughts from a balcony
Does his dearest remind him of
the silver ties and banners of home.
What if he's not assured of posterity
with his broken cane.
The carriage has already lost its horses
to street wisdom
Not quite the plague and yet
law stands firm before freedom.

BOYS, BOYS, BLOOD!
(Formely "There's only pleasure here")
By JKL

My heart is a hole
full of worms,
a cunt
full of cum.

Sex,
drugs,
rock and roll…
A place that don't
exist anymore.

Red stains
in a soft spot;
girly cuts
on a girly arm
to fill up a girly soul.

¡Boys, boys, blood!

Short skirts
and broken dolls.
False promises
of endless love.

One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five kinds of body fluids
laying on the dance floor.

Every second alive,
I still breath.
It fucking hurts.

rimbaud via berrigan

Sonnet III
Stronger than alcohol, more great than song,
deep in whose reeds great elephants decay;
I, an island, sail, and my shores toss
on a fragrant evening, fraught with sadness
bristling hate.
It's true, I weep too much. Dawns break
slow kisses on the eyelids of the sea,
what other men sometimes have thought they've seen.
And since then I've been bathing in the poem
lifting her shadowy flowers up for me,
and hurled by hurricanes to a birdless place
and waving flags, nor pass by prison ships
O let me burst, and I be lost at sea!
and fall upon my knees then, womanly.

Someone is doing taxes.
I'm thinking of a better use for the meteorite
that killed dinosaurs.
The best retorts are born in the too late.

lie to save a life or
let truth destroy mine?
look at my sores
open the door

unaware of shy signs
disbelief at live lines
impugn the scheme
avarice fines

no man, no team,
no home, nor beam
of light to lift me up
content to rest my cup

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I know you guys like short poems. I just wrote this.
Look into the trees
It's coming over me
It's coming over me

Into my eyes
Into my eyes
It's drugs
Into my dreams
Into my dreams
Machines are breathing for me
Otherwise I'd be dead

I welcome your thoughts.

I Enflamed No Hearts


What's really important here
Is that he had written about the rhetoric of suicide
To ensure that they died in their sleep
Which dimensions are on sale to the general public
As triangular purple shrouds cover every head.

So Even in death he was able.

Permit me, broken and defiled
— I ENFLAMED NO HEARTS

- Lord Byron Vere Claudius

how would you respond
if I told you “I miss you.
please come back to me.”

Charging Auschwitz
With poetry's death;
Believing souls die
With a martyr's breath.

Holding a corpse up
To silence the rest;
Ghosts at the famine
In silent regress.

>>25209807
It's in the trees
Looking into my dreams
Into my eyes
Watching me breathe

It's coming for me
To keep me undead
Hooked on the drug
Of the breathing machine

I took your idea and rewrote it. I hope you see the constructive criticism within that.

A timescape burrows into the past
And out pops projections of painsly porters
Put up with me if you will!
But know that the sands of time wash with waters unsublime

My name is anonamous
I got tranny sausages
In my esophogus and
On my brain,
a chud metropolis
We are not the same
but opposites
I blame the world
While leaving white deposits
In my sockesses
In mom's basement
She thinks im in the closet
Going outside makes me cautious and nauseous, what is the cause of this
A coward's synopsis

>>25210069
I like it. You improved it IMO

>>25202640
You putting the pussy on a pedestal, man

Cuddles invoke
the three second rule.
You see an absence better
than my head into yours.
The bed disarms competing countdowns,
the night forgives and forgets if you offer it
a bit of red.
Wildfire is a pickle
better dealt with
in the morning.

Hydraulic olive pressing:
a staple of autumn rhetoric.
The wine is as good as the blood of Persephone
in a strong year.
You who sneak prosciutto to the peacock,
you are seen.
Outside the cobblestones reclaiming themselves
from tourist socks.
The fortified walls keeping business inside.
Someone will lie about it in the guide.

Another short one

Mother resists
By the ocean
Hooked fingers
Empty stare
Deathbed bedside
I don't care

BIG NOSE
SHUT UP
SURRENDING IF
LOST FOREVER

BIG NOSE
FUCK UP
YOU HAVE SO MUCH
NOW GAVE FOREVER

BIG NOSE
SLURPEE
TAKE YOUR HATE
GET LOST FOREVER

You guys are lucky to have me, actually. Goddamn lucky to have me here.
You re so goddamn lucky to have me here

It's pitiful, it's pathetic, it's restraint. Mom left me in the hospital restaurant. They call it the rule Cafe.

I GOT SOMETHING TO SAY!

I RAPED YOUR BABY TODAY!

You can call me anonymous
Most just call me proctologist

>>25212817
An asshole doctor?

>>25212718
*SURRENDERING

>>25212924
Nah just be acceptin that
Im inspectin your rectum

A shepherd listens, counting constellations like sheep.
One by one they fall asleep in the sky.

The wind carries a story older than iron:
that everything built too high
eventually confesses itself to the earth beneath fruit bats descending on the neighbour’s tree like living dusk.

The concept of inductive
assertions
actually appeared in embryonic form in
1946,
at the same time as flow charts were introduced
by H. H. Goldstine and
J. von Neumann.
Their original flow charts included "assertion boxes"
that are in
close
analogy
with
the assertions in Fig. 4.

[See John von Neumann, Collected
Works 5 (New York: Macmillan, 1963), 91-99. See also A. M. Turing's early
comments about verification in Report of a Conference on High Speed Automatic
Calculating Machines (Cambridge Univ., 1949), 67-68 and figures; reprinted
with commentary by F. L. Morris and C. B. Jones in Annals of the History of
Computing 6 (1984), 139-143.]

>>25213066
Have I not told you countless times to stop posting your banal slop here? Fuck off.

>>25213083
In our
tiny
population, we collected information from all the
individuals

In
practice, investigators only collect
information
on a sample of the population
of interest. Even if the
counter-
factual
outcomes of all study individuals were
known, working with samples prevents
one
from obtaining the
exact
proportion
of
individuals
in the population who had the outcome under treatment value
a
, i.e., the probability of death under
no
treatment
: Pr -
Y
a=0 = 1
cannot be
directly
computed

One
can only estimate
this probability.

>>25213066
I enjoyed this more than pretty much anything itt

>>25213095
If the sample space
consists
of a finite number of possible outcomes,

then the
probability law is
specified
by the probabilities of the events that

consist of
a single
element.

—

In
particular,
the probability of any event {s1, s2,...,sn}
is the
sum of
the probabilities of
its elements

There once was a man from balquhidder...

>>25213105
Have I not told
you
countless times
to stop posting your banal
slop
here?

—

Fuck off.

>>25213112
Whose leg was so long it would slither

>>25202370
Banal sex, taken up by many
Has no relation whatsoever with the proliferation
of bass licksing musicians

>>25213143
Anal sex barred for so few
Had a revolution with the intrepid poultice
Of Nectar sipping stoners

horcrux?
heartsauce

horror?
hope lost

horrible
not right

servants
take flight

Pretty pink nipples, pretty pink nipples!
Uh huh, yeah
Uh huh, yeah
Pretty pink nipples, pretty pink nipples
Uh huh yeah
Uh huh yeah!
Rosey Red and swollen
Rosey Red and perky!
It's when I feel jerky
It's when I feel a little jerky!
Can Jeremy come out to play?
With brown manly nipples
No way! No fucking way!

Pretty pink nipples!

>>25204488
what a silly take. if we're actually gonna do away with all convention and particularism then anything goes, including the apeing of old styles. you won't have it both ways