/pol/ - Poetry and Lyrics

Poetic literature discussion

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Welcome! Anonymous 10/02/2019 (Wed) 13:58:20 No. 1 [Reply]
/pol/ is a board for all kinds of discussions about poetry.
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.

Anonymous 10/21/2019 (Mon) 07:38:31 No. 20 [Reply]
i only trust my wife
when she fucks me each night
she's ditched me before
that slutty bitch whore
3 posts omitted.
today is the day
op acted so gay
a hundred suns exploded in anger
and died in dismay
>>25
irregular poems are gay
>>26
You are gay, you infernal nigger;
your poetry taste shit and my dick is bigger
>>27
only few anons each day
recognize the evil you say
but never they dare to speak out
for fear of losing the jew's handout
>>28
Are you still posting, you obsessive fag?
You ought to be dead; your mother's a hag!
Why continue this affair on a half-dead board,
when your reasoning weak and your arguments flawed?

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]
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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1 post omitted.
>>9
thanks. don't read German tbh.
Wasn't sure if I should post on the Rules page, but does Poetry include lyrics from songs?
>>12
Sure, there's not much of a difference between poems and songs
You can post about them all you like. This is the poetry and lyrics board, after all.
>>13
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 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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>>14
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.

On the Creation of Niggers (1912)  by H. P. Lovecraft Anonymous 10/12/2019 (Sat) 07:29:34 No. 19 [Reply]
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.

Rumi Anonymous 10/02/2019 (Wed) 20:16:19 No. 3 [Reply]
This thread is dedicated to the life and works of Jalal ad-Din Rumi.
Rumi, also named Mawlana (Our Master), was a Sufi mystic, poet, philosopher and theologian from 13th century Persia. He is considered one of the Islamic world's greatest and most impactful poets.
Rumi was born in the year 1207 A.D. in the easternmost regions of the Persian Empire.
During his lifetime, he met Shams-e Tabriz, to whom he became a close friend and follower. Shams-e Tabriz was another prolific poet who is credited with inspiring Rumi's devotion to poetry. Rumi spent as much time as he could learning from Shams, before he vanished without explanation.
Rumi's works are all dated after Shams' disappearance and show a great reverence for him, as well as mourning his disappearance.
Rumi's legacy is still widely present today, especially in Iranian/Middle Eastern cultures and in the Sufi traditions of Islam. There are landmarks and monuments dedicated to him, his image has been featured on currency, and his works have been translated into many of the world's languages.
I will post some of his poems, and their English translations, from dar-al-masnavi.org.

>az jumâdî mord-am-o nâmê shod-am
>w-az namâ mord-am ba-Haywân bar zad-am
>mord-am az Hawânî-wo âdam shod-am
>pas che tars-am, kay ze mordan kam shod-am?
>Hamla-yé degar be-mîr-am az bashar
>tâ bar âr-am az malâ'ik parr-o sar
>w-az malak ham bâyâd-am jastan ze jû
>kullu shay-in hâlik illâ wajha-hu
>bâr-é dêgar az malak qurbân shaw-am
>ânche andar wahm n-ây-ad ân shaw-am
>pas `adam gard-am `adam chûn arghanûn
>gôy-ad-am ke innâ ilay-hi râji`ûn.

I died as a mineral and became a plant,
I died as plant and rose to animal,

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>mar `âshiq-ân-râ pand-é kas hargez na-bâsh-ad sûd-mand
>nay ân-chon-ân sayl-ast în ke-sh kas tawân-ad kard band
>Zawq-é sar-é sar-mast-râ hargez na-dân-ad `âqilê
>Hâl-é del-é bê-hôsh-râ hargez na-dân-ad hôsh-mand
>bêzâr gard-and az shahî shâh-ân-râ agar bôyê bor-and
>z-ân bâd-hâ ke `âshiq-ân dar majlis-é del mê-khwor-and
>khosraw Wadâ`-é mulk-é khwad az bahr-é shîrîn mê-kon-ad
>farhâd ham az bahr-é ô bar kôh mê-kôb-ad kaland
>majnûn ze-Halqa-yé `âqil-ân az `ishq-é laylà mê-ram-ad
>bar sablat-é har sar-kashê kard-ast wâmiq rêsh-khand
>afsorda ân `umrê! ke ân be-g'Zasht bê-ân jân-é khwash
>ay ganda ân maghzê! ke ân ghâfil bow-ad z-în lôr-é kand
>în âsmân gar nîst-y sar-gashta-wo `âshiq-é chô mâ
>z-în gardesh ô sêr âmad-y goft-y: bas-ast-am chand chand
>`âlam chô sornâyê-wo ô dar har shekâf-ash mê-deh-ad
>har nâla-yê dâr-ad yaqîn z-ân dô lab-é chûn qand, qand
>mê-bîn ke-chûn dar mê-dam-ad dar har gelê, dar har delê

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>Life freezes if it doesn't get a taste
>of this almond cake.
Beaut.
Are Kahlil Gibran's Poems allowed, friends?
I find The Earth Gods quite an exquisite work myself.
It is about the Old Gods passing the baton to their newer counterparts, reluctantly, hopefully, with trepidation and with sorrow. Enjoy!

http://gutenberg.net.au/ebooks05/0500561h.html
>>17
Of course, you can make a new thread for it.

The Officially Unofficial User Created Poetry Thread Anonymous 10/09/2019 (Wed) 20:22:24 No. 16 [Reply]
POST ‘EM IF YOU GOT ‘EM

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

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Robert Burns Anonymous 10/03/2019 (Thu) 00:04:48 No. 6 [Reply]
This thread is dedicated to the life and works of Robert Burns, an 18th century lyricist who is considered to be the national poet of Scotland.
He lived from 1759 to 1796 and died at only 37 years old.
In his youth, Burns lived in poverty and spent most of his time working hard on his father's farm. Burns didn't regularly go to school; most of his education came from his father, William Burnes, who died in 1784.
The family spent years moving from farm to farm. Seeing his father, a highly able man, always beaten down and never managing to improve the family's circumstances, turned Burns rebellious against the existing social order of his time. His bitterness and opposition against the status quo also included his negative attitude to Calvinism, the dominant branch of the Christian church in Scotland at the time, which he viewed as hypocritical and bigoted.
Burns had always spent most of his free time writing songs and poems, and his first major volume, Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect, was published in 1786. His work was a success among all classes of Scottish society.
He became a member of the Freemasons in 1781, and had many illicit relationships with women in his lifetime, producing several illegitimate children.
The latter part of his life was marked by the worsening of his health. From his time doing farm work, Burns suffered from heart problems and a rheumatic condition that led to his early death in July of 1796.
Burns was a man of intellect, whose legacy lies in becoming a central figure and an idol of Scottish culture.
The sun he is sunk in the west,
All creatures retired to rest,
While here I sit, all sore beset,
With sorrow, grief, and woe:
And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!

The prosperous man is asleep,
Nor hears how the whirlwinds sweep;
But Misery and I must watch
The surly tempest blow:
And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!

There lies the dear partner of my breast;
Her cares for a moment at rest:
Must I see thee, my youthful pride,
Thus brought so very low!
And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!

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Lyrics Anonymous 10/03/2019 (Thu) 10:40:35 No. 10 [Reply]
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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