/pol/ - Poetry and Lyrics

Poetry and lyrics sharing and discussion

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Welcome! Anonymous 10/02/2019 (Wed) 13:58:20 No.1 [Reply] [Last]
/pol/ is a board for all kinds of discussions about poetry and other kinds of written works. You can talk about works from any background and epoch, share your own OC, discuss techniques and stylistic elements, and more. Rules: >1. Follow the Global Rule. >2. No spamming, no off-topic posts. Try to put effort and thought behind your contributions. >3. While poetry from all languages is allowed, discussions should be in English. >4. Please use correct spelling and grammar. >5. This board is SFW. Posting NSFW content is not permitted.
Edited last time by Butterberg on 07/29/2020 (Wed) 15:35:08.
Other art/creative boards Drawing: >>>/loomis/ Photography: >>>/p/ Flash animations: >>>/f/ Game development: >>>/agdg/ General/Creative: >>>/make/

Anonymous 05/11/2020 (Mon) 21:46:15 No.60 [Reply] [Last]
Oh, Poetic Friends, Come join us at https://anon.cafe/icup/ for the Infinity Cup, if you so desire!
2 posts omitted.
You know that you're the only one who's been destroying all the fun Look what happened when you were dreaming Then punch yourself in the face
>>61 We could do that, especially since we don't really have any memes or anything here. We've already got threads on Saadi, Rumi and Robert Burns and Hitler. What are some other notable poets? Yeats, Goethe, Seuss, Poe? Maybe some classical ones like Homer? >>62 I think it could still be fun to make our own team. And if this place doesn't get attention, then who's gonna post their poetry here?
>>111 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6iePPYF2-dI Does he count as a poet? Additionally, you could probably use the characters or beings of famous poems as teammates too, like Beowulf or the Jabberwocky.
>>111 >>112 Oh, and this might make a good goalhorn: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5XP5RP6OEJI
soul: kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk soulless: lol cringe: jajajajajajaja

/WIG/ --Writer's Improvement general Anonymous 07/27/2020 (Mon) 03:31:09 No.78 [Reply] [Last]
Here we post about how we wrote today. Daily updates. What you read what you wrote, maybe that you posted in /crit/ (or started a new /crit/ thread.
OP here. I'll go first. Today I wrote two drafts of poems. I still have to do my daily recording, which I post to tik tok everyday. I spent most of the day fucking off, but I still got some writing done, even if I didn't read anything. Gonna record now.
>>79 You record anything yet? I'd love to see your work.
>>106 Yeah. This is the latest. https://www.tiktok.com/@solonoftheeast/video/6854766879534222598 I tend to post poems a bit at a time, as the shorter length seems to boost viewcounts and moreover, seems to help me better highlight which lines are good and which lines suck. Helps me keep a tight "write-perform-revise" loop, which I think is critical for an auditory medium like poetry.
>>108 Recorded today. Spent a shit-ton of time on three lines: Mutatis myopis, mutandis into nonsense. What needs be can't be seen as the world bends in the mindlens of the cable box, the soundstage of the solipsis-fable.
>>109 Couldn't write for shit today. Did a bit of freestyle. Not a goddamn thing more. Chased down the muse for a bit, but when the soul is perverted, the anima becomes oedipal

Lyrics Anonymous 10/03/2019 (Thu) 10:40:35 No.10 [Reply] [Last]
Jennifer wrestled her friend playfully to the ground in front of the snow cone stand and began licking at the girls eyeballs, as if they were sugar cubes. Their bodies convulsed and flailed with an almost seizure like intensity. At times their pale limbs seeming to shift back and forth from one torso to the other. A crowd gathered almost immediately to watch these two girls tie and untie their bodies like a pair of pit-vipers. They were confused, or concerned, or shocked, or aroused, or all of the above. But no-one dared interfere with the performance. Jennifer's long ashen hair hung down concealing the girls face like a curtain around a hospital bed. No one had any idea that the girls eyes were revolving under her ruby tongue. "This is disgusting, it's pornography" exclaimed a pasty slug-like woman in a fur coat, vanilla ice-cream smeared across her double chin like

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Edited last time by Butterberg on 05/02/2020 (Sat) 11:13:15.
Sunday is gloomy, My hours are slumberless Dearest the shadows I live with are numberless Little white flowers Will never awaken you Not where the black coach of Sorrow has taken you Angels have no thought Of ever returning you, Would they be angry If I thought of joining you? Gloomy Sunday Gloomy is Sunday, With shadows I spend it all

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The Officially Unofficial User Created Poetry Thread Anonymous 10/09/2019 (Wed) 20:22:24 No.16 [Reply] [Last]

I’ll throw one of mine in to get the ball rollin’

Love, By Anon

They all dedicate lines to you
Thin lines, easy seen through.
Of course they do to be like others, who
all feel something I wont pretend to feel just for you
because Ive never ever wanted anything from you.
Ive watched them marry up
their wives and lives with ties and lies,
Ive seen them fuck infatuation
And call it you so they feel safer
I hope you'll stay with them forever
Let them sit back and never dream thoughts like mine
Scared hearts running from you
Take longer to prove
They can sit back and laugh while others do
But still they hold you in awe
Am I the first to ever question you exist?
Why do I throw up when she says she gives me herself only for you
Or her belief in you is only for me
Sometimes I almost envy the need, but don't see the prize
12 posts omitted.
[spoiler] Remove the limbs Remove the organs Hook up to VR Remove the jaw Remove the heart Remove the spinal column "Reveal" [/spoiler]
Here i sit, Sat staring out the window, The outside full of naught but air, Hot and dry, yet rarely alight, And a little moisture, On the window sill, there, set, Condensed here, perhaps, By selfish yearning. There and then, Staring backward into fog, Though the fog is of certain, Naught but illusion, Or, I suppose, so I am told. Bodily life is p gay fam, ngl.
be assured, the lord of discord shall soon grow bored of our civil accord and draw her golden apple to leave the world slack-jawed as chaos is restored fnord among the collapse we move toward will you mourn, abhorred, or will you rebel and applaud?
sixty-nine, an integer sublime. some may whine and claim this rhyme is an asinine waste of time but I think it's fine for this poem of mine to assign value to this value.
I wrote a poem about otters. >>>/otter/1202

Saadi Anonymous 06/24/2020 (Wed) 16:45:54 No.70 [Reply] [Last]
I want to share a few stories and poems from Saadi's Gulistan. Every moment a breath of life is spent, If I consider, not much of it remains. O thou, whose fifty years have elapsed in sleep, Wilt thou perhaps overtake them in these five days? Shame on him who has gone and done no work. The drum of departure was beaten but he has not made his load. Sweet sleep on the morning of departure Retains the pedestrian from the road. Whoever had come had built a new edifice. He departed and left the place to another And that other one concocted the same futile schemes And this edifice was not completed by anyone. Cherish not an inconstant friend. Such a traitor is not fit for amity. As all the good and bad must surely die,

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Edited last time by Butterberg on 06/24/2020 (Wed) 23:03:25.
Story 6 It is narrated that one of the kings of Persia had stretched forth his tyrannical hand to the possessions of his subjects and had begun to oppress them so violently that in consequence of his fraudulent extortions they dispersed in the world and chose exile on ccount of the affliction entailed by his violence. When the population had diminished, the prosperity of the ountry suffered, the treasury remained empty and on every side enemies committed violence. Who desires succour in the day of calamity, Say to him: ‘Be generous in times of prosperity.’ The slave with a ring in his ear, if not cherished will depart. Be kind because then a stranger will become thy slave. One day the Shahnamah was read in his assembly, the subject being the ruin of the dominion of Zohak and the reign of Feridun. The vezier asked he king how it came to pass that Feridun, who possessed neither treasure nor land nor a retinue, established himself upon the throne. He replied: ‘As thou hast heard, the population enthusiastically gathered around him and supported him so that he attained royalty.’ The vezier said: ‘As the gathering around of the population is the cause of royalty, then why dispersest thou the population? Perhaps thou hast no desire for royalty?’ It is best to cherish the army as thy life Because a sultan reigns by means of his troops. The king asked: ‘What is the reason for the gathering around of the troops and the population?’ He replied: ‘A padshah must practise justice that they may gather around him and clemency that they may dwell in safety under the shadow of his government; but thou possessest neither of these qualities.’ A tyrannic man cannot be a sultan As a wolf cannot be a shepherd.

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Story 20 I heard that an oppressor ruined the habitations of the subjects to fill the treasury of the sultan, unmindful of the maxim of philosophers, who have said: ‘Who offends God the most high to gain the heart of a created being, God will use that very being to bring on his destruction in the world.’ Fire burning with wild rue will not Cause a smoke like that of afflicted hearts. The prince of all animals is the lion and the meanest of beasts the ass. Nevertheless sages agree that an ass who carries loads is better than a lion who destroys men. The poor donkey though void of discernment Is nevertheless esteemed when he carries a burden. Oxen and asses who carry loads Are superior to men oppressing mankind. When the king had obtained information of some of the oppressor’s misdeeds and bad conduct, he had him put on the rack and slain by various tortures. Thou wilt not obtain the approbation of the sultan Unless thou seekest the goodwill of his subjects.

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Story 25 One of the Arab kings ordered his officials to double the allowance of a certain attendant because he was always at the palace expecting orders while the other servants were engaged in amusements and sports, neglecting their duties. A pious man who heard this remarked that high degrees at the court of heaven are similarly bestowed upon servants: If a man comes two mornings to serve the shah He will on the third certainly look benevolently on him. Sincere worshippers entertain the hope That they will not be disappointed at the threshold of God. Superiority consists in attending to commands. The neglect of commands leads to exclusion. Who possesses the criterion of righteousness Places the head upon the threshold.
Listen to this story how in Baghdad A flag and a curtain fell into dispute. Travel stained, dusty and fatigued, the flag Said to the curtain by way of reproach: ‘I and thou, we are both fellow servants, Slaves of the sultan’s palace. Not a moment had I rest from service In season and out of season I travelled about. Thou hast suffered neither toil nor siege, Not from the desert, wind, nor dust and dirt. My step in the march is more advancing. Then why is thy honour exceeding mine? Thou art upon moon-faced servants Or jessamine scented slave girls. I have fallen into prentice hands. I travel with foot in fetters and head fluttering.’ The curtain said: ‘My head is on the threshold

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A pious man saw an acrobat in great dudgeon, full of wrath and foaming at the mouth. He asked: ‘What is the matter with this fellow?’ A bystander said: ‘Someone has insulted him.’ He remarked: ‘This base wretch is able to lift a thousand mann of stones and has not the power to bear one word.’ Abandon thy claim to strength and manliness. Thou art weak-minded and base, whether thou be a man or woman. If thou art able, make a sweet mouth. It is not manliness to strike the fist on a mouth. Although able to tear up an elephant’s front He is not a man who possessed no humanity. A man’s nature is of earth. If he is not humble he is not a man.

In memory of a glorious future forsaken by the White man for his new (((master))) Anonymous 10/03/2019 (Thu) 01:36:31 No.7 [Reply] [Last]
The Mother "When your mother has grown older, When her dear, faithful eyes no longer see life as they once did, When her feet, grown tired, No longer want to carry her as she walks - Then lend her your arm in support, Escort her with happy pleasure. The hour will come when, weeping, you Must accompany her on her final walk. And if she asks you something, Then give her an answer. And if she asks again, then speak! And if she asks yet again, respond to her,

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Edited last time by Butterberg on 05/02/2020 (Sat) 11:00:41.
4 posts omitted.
Oh good, Then I'll post my favourite and its sort of an oldie (if 2007 counts as old)
Nigga Nigga Nigga by Gangsta Rap

Yeah, mother fucker
Sup nigga
Gangsta Rap nigga.
Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga, I’m %100 nigga
Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga, I’m %200 nigga
Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga, why do police hate niggas?
Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga, they hate us cause our dicks is bigga
Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga, why you call yourself a nigga?
Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga, cause I’m a mother fucking nigga!
Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga, why you drink so much beer?
Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga, I don’t drink beer, I drink malt liquor

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I know you meant this as a joke but it's quite insightful a peek into the culture, so to speak. It's honest, refreshing, boundary pushing and as far as dialogues go, doesn't try to railroad you and feed you a narrative.
I dig it a lot, fam.
>((( ))) stop using ded meeme
>>49 (((you)))
>>49 Roses are red Violets are blue Who's behind this post? Probably (((you)))

This board is being claimed. Anonymous Root 04/29/2020 (Wed) 10:36:53 No.56 [Reply] [Last]
This board's owner has been inactive for quite some time. The owner of /comfy/ has requested that this board be transferred to them. If you are the board owner and see this thread, please respond to it with your role signature (#rs in the name field) confirming that you'd like to retain ownership or that you'd like it to be transferred. This message will remain for a few days before transfer.
I am the board owner now.

On the Creation of Niggers (1912)  by H. P. Lovecraft Anonymous 10/12/2019 (Sat) 07:29:34 No.19 [Reply] [Last]
When, long ago, the gods created Earth In Jove's fair image Man was shaped at birth. The beasts for lesser parts were next designed; Yet were they too remote from humankind. To fill the gap, and join the rest to Man, Th'Olympian host conceiv'd a clever plan. A beast they wrought, in semi-human figure, Filled it with vice, and called the thing a Nigger.
Edited last time by Butterberg on 05/02/2020 (Sat) 11:01:05.
The Lynxchan update seems to have broken line breaks.

Some reposts and new drafts [Little Lady Ladlee to start] Anonymous 01/23/2020 (Thu) 02:03:54 No.34 [Reply] [Last]
Little| lady| Ladlee,
a spoon you take-
to pass the shears beside the lake-
and lap a ladle full of water-
to help your weary resting father-
for when he sees, and gives a smile,
you'll be happy for a while.
3 posts omitted.
"Aha!" Said the anon, rubbing his hands;
"I'll call OP gay, I'll ruin his plans!"
With sage in all fields, calling others non-white,
He covered the thread with his shite.
The OP, reclusive, observing the culture,
hovered above his thread like a vulture.
He knew he should lurk, but that wasn't fun;
"I'll tell them I'm baiting, then I'll call this thread done."
The lurker then frowned, for nothing was clear;
"How many layers of irony here?"
He knew this for certain; that this thread was dead,
so he read through an archive instead
>He covered the thread with his shite.
Is this the right syllable count? Feels off, but maybe that’s because I dont recognise this style.
Here’s how I’d reorganise it. Apologies if I’ve fucked up your poem.
>"Aha!" said Anon, rubbing his hands;
"I'll call OP gay, I'll ruin his plans!"
With sage in all fields, calling others non-white,
He covered the whole of the thread with his shite.
The OP, reclusive, observing the culture,
hovered above his new thread like a vulture.
He knew he should lurk, but that wasn't fun;
"I'll tell them I'm baiting, then call this thread done."
The lurker, he frowned, for nothing was clear;
"How many layers of irony here?"
He knew this for certain: That this thread was dead,
so he closed out the tab
and read an archive instead.
Not bad. The thousand repeated on the last lines is a little awkward to my eyes.

I like this. It’s cute. It rolls along. It doesn’t overstay its welcome and ends well.
I don't know anything about style, but my intent was to end the verse abruptly, to be sort like a punch-line . I think there was three separate stanzas at one point, but the document I pasted into didn't include them. Maybe my intent wasn't very clear to begin with.

Flows better in some places, more plain overall though. It's fine the way you did it.

Thank you. I personally like the thousand repeated as emphasis.

I shouldn't expect people to read my poems the way I think them, it seems.

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