/pol/ - Poetry and Lyrics

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

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
the spiders
to town
they come
here by
the bushel!

The spiders
than a
they really
to tussel!

the spider
a crown
he's brawn
and full
of muscle!

So when
the spiders
And hustle!

[whoops, didn't see this thread. Sorry.]
A wag of a hag's sagging bags
a tad mad had the lads gone
a plush tush grown, a flush face known
the gift to age gracefully shown

[repost from an old /b/ pottery thread]
If fighting is life,
then living is strife-
and if pain's all that comes
then Death's in the right.
But to toil for a purpose,
or a moment of peace,
makes a thousand wars worth it-
a thousand, at least.

[from the same /b/ thread, both by me btw]
Showed this to /monster/.
Check these dubs faggot
You'll always be off by one
It's a dubs thread now

What a way to go
my intestines everywhere
my head is in pain....

The season now ends,
Cirino is a nigger.
Mogami River.
Slip goes the footing,
tip goes the yaw,
rock does the cutting,
pop goes the jaw,
chest on the gravel,
hand in the murk,
and everyone's about to know my lungs still work.

Cool, I sorta thought how /monster/ could like it when I wrote it.
I wake amidst clatter To see what's the matter My replica rover Had just fallen over My First born learned today Not all things are for play
A cat on a sill, a horse on a hill, a snake on a rock; my time on a walk. [Is the mod for /pol/ still around? Just curious]
>>52 The board is showing up as inactive so I'm guessing he's long gone High on a mountain, upon a rock A bald headed eagle sat scratching his ____ Now don't get excited and don't get misled The bald headed eagle was scratching his head
Suddenly I heard a fapping As of someone gently jacking Jacking off onto the floor
Dark of night Anon's delight Cafe rests Only a guest Once in a fortnight
>>16 [spoiler] Remove the limbs Remove the organs Hook up to VR Remove the jaw Remove the heart Remove the spinal column "Reveal" [/spoiler]
[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
How do you manage to come up with an idea of what to write? Writing a poem, is it a story you want to tell or an emotion you want to convey? Or both?
>>76 Here's anotter: The otter's charm, so little known Holds no ceptre, has no throne Lives in groups or on his own Relishing his dearest stone. Dirt upon which otter rests, In a coat of comfort drest, The big wide river makes him guest, Its wealth upon the beast bequests. Though in the waves at home is he, and on the surface equally, In either must he cease to be, Split half and half, the otter's see. Hunger drives him to the depths where Lord Above grants him a fest, must yet come up to catch his breath, must climb back out, of strength bereft. His charm is in simplicity, and aptitude and mystery. Not status or celebrity, not profit or utility. No! He lives unseen, unheard, in the privy spots of Earth, far to which no man traversed, so his beauty stays covert. As between homes his home is split, as between each of both he flits, so too his self and soul is split, two distinct natures they emit. One like a terrifying beast, brutish strength, sharp claws and teeth craving only tasty meat inbetween his webbed-toed feet. The other busy frolicking, nimbly diving, scampering, juggling, rolling, or enjoying upon his breast the sun-rays shining. Where both of these are married, splendid! Grace and vice, in one, ascended. In the otter they are blended. This Almighty God intended.
>>127 Marvellous!
>>128 >>129 Heh, sorry, just a slight fix.
>>128 Posted this on /otter/

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