Serious poetry thread only serious poets pls

i got myself
a paper
clip

From Veeky Forums in the evening browsing through
A dozen shittposts streamed into my view;
And then I asked myself; redditors, why
Do here you lurk, when precious karma high
You seek cannot be found, but in its place
Intelligent discussion, from the best of the race?
Fly back from whence you came, and warn
Your friends that newfags are to pieces torn.

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.

not bad but it reads so strangely

mfuckinass jays homie heheheheheeh

hey guyz rupi here:x i was wondering if you could give me some advices on my writing and tell me what I could do better, also lol a guy friend of mine told me you always talk about my poetry here hehe thanks \@o@'/

BARBIE’S UNDER-UNDERPANTS
*
under her dress
you can sometimes
find the woman
who later causes
girls
to kiss the soft paws
of toy Soviet gynecologists
*
the latest Barbie
is made of such tender plastic
her underwear
can leave a mark
that is
of course
if for a prolonged time
the doll sits uncomfortably on the lap of a stranger
*
inside this woman
is that
for which
the policemen of small American cities
get paid
*
the complete Barbie set
contains a tiny object
the use of which
is not obvious
when you finally figure out
what it’s for
the doll
abruptly,
grabs the object
from your hands
*
she never came to me
in a dream
however
those 1970s Soviet dolls did
with their honest
innocuous fingers
always grown together

--------

Anatomical Theater
Selected Poems of Andrei Sen-Senkov
Translated from Russian by
Ainsley Morse and Peter Golub
Zephyr Press | Brookline, Mass. 2013

Entrance signs, once an omen of mead sopped halls and repose. Now, when every coin is shaved for the benefit of the righteous consumer, the sign has become a portent of the desperation that strings together the fate.

Norsemen practiced Seidr, the thread. Weaved by Norns, Fates, Wills. Three weird sisters joined in labor, the productive sating damnation promised to each new line of the eternal tapestry. In Seidr, the Norse found magic of the fate-alter.

Alas, the eponymous cord is often the noose of those magicians who gaze too long. But in the hanging magician there is a two fold meaning, Old Odin hung for nine days. From the writ he earned, we now divine the end of the cord, the true end.

Often the premature hanging is wrought by knotted threads, young wills strangled, thrashed by their fellows, thrashed by the shears that bring the cloth of fates closer to the final cut. The greats of Olympus, Asgard, will be felled and rot.

>from whence
when will this die forever? it's like amateur central

Read Bukowski. He is god

i can
so i will
see all

pubi corn

The ting go
skrrrrraaaa
pop pop ka ka ka
skibee kee pop pop
and a poo poo purrrrr poom
skee ya
doo doo coo coo poom poom
poom poom
ya done now
big shock
ha yo
yeah yeah
alright

nightmare angels

life was a series of nightmare angels
one and one and one and one
and she had become a nightmare walking
on and on and on and on

life was a cat and she was a mouse
and she was a captive in its house
and each false mercy of mock release
would end with the sting of claws and teeth

she was the rain that fell to sea
she was a tear that came to me
i only gave her a moment's rest
and now she's a tide that fills my chest

Yesterday, in the evening
I saw a big thing, creeping
I turned around to look at it
But before I could see it, it was gone and dead
So then I grabbed my dick
Thought to myself, what porn should I watch?
I went to the website I usually go to
Then I clicked on the first thing I saw
Then I grabbed my dick again,
Only to see that thing once again,
So I turned around once more to look at it,
Only to find I was looking at my soul

I like it

In the fading twilight
I saw Elysium fade
Reflected in the tears it made
I knew my soul was saved

did you
also
have to
run behind
the bus
to get it?

--philip larkin

poetry?
more like
blow-my-d

L'auteur de la performance «le Cri de Godzilla» décrit le gémissement du gros lézard.

«Alors, il a aussi fallu inventer son cri. Akira Ifukube, le musicien qui était en train de composer la bande originale du film, emprunta discrètement une contrebasse au conservatoire de musique de Tokyo et frotta contre les cordes un gant de cuir et enregistra ce bruit, puis il le fit passer au ralenti, parvenant à obtenir l’un des rugissements les plus célèbres de l’histoire du cinéma.» Ce texte, extrait de la performance de l’écrivain et dramaturge Christophe Fiat, le Cri de Godzilla, décrit le gémissement originel du gros lézard inventé par le cinéaste japonais Ishiro Honda en 1954.

Qu’est-ce que le «cri» de Godzilla a de spécial ?
C’est un cri inédit dans l’histoire du cinéma, mélange de souffrance et d’alarme. La souffrance des victimes d’Hiroshima et l’avertissement : si nous continuons à utiliser de manière irresponsable le nucléaire, nous mourrons tous ! Son cri évoque aussi la plainte de l’enfant abandonné.

Pourquoi vous être intéressé à lui ?
En 2011, trois semaines après le 11 mars, je suis allé visiter la ville d’Iwaki, à 40 kilomètres de la centrale nucléaire de Fukushima. A mon retour, j’ai publié un roman, Retour d’Iwaki, paru chez Gallimard, hanté par le fantôme de Godzilla.

[...]

Godzilla est-il l’un des derniers héros contre-culturels ?
C’est un punk, il est intraitable, insaisissable, immortel. Les Japonais l’ont créé pour critiquer les essais nucléaires américains dans l’atoll de Bikini, neuf ans après Hiroshima, et Emmerich en a fait un remake pour critiquer les essais nucléaires français sous Chirac. Godzilla sera toujours «autre», pure altérité tendue entre l’Asie et l’Occident.

i've seen things
you people
wouldn't believe
attack ships
on fire
off the shoulder of Orion
i watched
c-beams
glitter
in the dark
near the Tannhäuser Gate.
all those moments
will be lost
in time
like tears
in rain
time
to die