Hey

this desu

>tattoo of
It's tattoo have

none, because tattoos are an indicator of low IQ.

You forgot to say

... ON MY PENIS

>I posted it again guys
>Am I cool yet?

Spit in my face, you Jews, and pierce my side!

SHOOT ME!

I RATHER GO OUT A MAN THEN A TATTOO'D FAGGOT REEE!

the entire works of Homer, on my penis

Paradise Lost :)

“No sólo en plata o vïola troncada
Se vuelva, más tú y ello juntamente
En tierra, en humo, en polvo, en sombra, en nada.”

A Fever

...

Something from Keat’s Epistle to Charles Cowden Clarke

>Since I have walk’d with you through shady lanes
>That freshly terminate in open plains,
>And revel’d in a chat that ceased not
>When at night-fall among your books we got:
>No, nor when supper came, nor after
that,—
>Nor when reluctantly I took my hat;
>No, nor till cordially you shook my hand
>Mid-way between our homes:—your accents bland
>Still sounded in my ears, when I no more
>Could hear your footsteps touch the grav’ly floor.
>Sometimes I lost them, and then found again;
>You chang’d the footpath for the grassy plain.

Keats' shorter stuff.

that one Peter Hitchens recites to defend bad education

none, because tattoos are not poetic

...

Even in sleep, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart until, in our own despair, against our own will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God.

Kek

Metamorphoses, by Ovid

"My mistresses eyes" by shakespeare
I alway found it amusing

Monkeys can climb
Crickets can leap
Horses can race
Owls can seek
Cheetahs can run
Eagles can fly
People can try
But that's about it

The entirety of Paterson all over my body

fpbp

I'm actually considering this of the Window

>poem
>so are you some sort of faggot or somethi *bang*
still worth it

Lifted up
Reflective in returning love you sing
Errant days filled me
Fed me illusion's gate
In temperate stream
Welled up within me
A hunger uncurbed by nature's calling
Seven sacraments to song
Versed in Christ
Should strength desert me
They'll come
They come
Lifted up
Reflected in returning love you sing
Heaven waits
Someday Christendom may come
Westward
Evening sun recedent
Set my resting vow
Hold in open heart

>of
This is my favorite typo, because it means "or" in Dutch, so it's still correct

der errolkonig

I thought this was a joke.

i have a poem by brecht on my forearm. it's about the death of lenin

Probably Invictus

The Inscription on the gates of hell from The Divine Comedy.

First thought was Aubade by Larkin.

That's basically a /pol/ post.

Cringe as it sounds, Ozymandias has always made me feel better about having never accomplished anything. I'd get it tattooed on my calf, or something.

וְשֶׂרֶט לָנֶפֶשׁ, לֹא תִתְּנוּ בִּבְשַׂרְכֶם, וּכְתֹבֶת קַעֲקַע, לֹא תִתְּנוּ בָּכֶם: אֲנִי, יְהוָה.

Death will come with your eyes—
this death that accompanies us
from morning till night, sleepless,
deaf, like an old regret
or a stupid vice. Your eyes
will be a useless word,
a muted cry, a silence.
As you see them each morning
when alone you lean over
the mirror. O cherished hope,
that day we too shall know
that you are life and nothing.

For everyone death has a look.
Death will come with your eyes.
It will be like terminating a vice,
as seen in the mirror
a dead face re-emerging,
like listening to closed lips.
We'll go down the abyss in silence.

It reads way better in italian

Yes
YES

10
9
8
7
6
5
4
3
2
1

well what are you waiting for

faggot

It's supposed to have the be otherwise you idiotic moron, the poem's message is to avoid being a megalomaniac enamoured with your own pride, not a vague justification for being a lazy piece of subhuman.

Welp, I suppose your free to interpret it that way. Tell ya what, how about instead of Ozymandias on my calf, I get Rupi Kuar's Dirt Star Corona tattooed around my asshole and you can kiss it?

Nice

Hmmmmm let me see if I can improvise somethin here....
NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER

o-on your penis?

holy shit you're a fucking massive faggot, pls neck yourself

The problem is how to thank.

There's a few passages from Faust that wouldn't be bad.

The entire entire poem in Pale Fire complete with annotations of the MC's critique.

I don't get it. It's moving forward despite the janks, is that it?

reddit reddit literature club

Hi, I'm a Slut.

Unironically as well.

dark dark
the horror of darkness, like a shroud

Lived a knight once, poor and simple,
Pale of face with glance austere,
Spare of speech, but with a spirit
Proud, intolerant of fear.

He had had a wondrous vision:
Ne'er could feeble human art
Gauge its deep, mysterious meaning,
It was graven on his heart.

And since then his soul had quivered
With an all-consuming fire,
Never more he looked on women,
Speech with them did not desire.

But he dropped his scarf thenceforward,
Wore a chaplet in its place,
And no more in sight of any
Raised the visor from his face.

Filled with purest love and fervor,
Faith which his sweet dreams did yield
In his blood he traced the letters
A.M.D. upon his shield.

When the Paladins proclaiming
Ladies' names as true love's sign
Hurled themselves into the battle
On the plains of Palestine,

Lumen coeli, Sancta Rosa!
Shouted he with flaming glance,
And the fury of his menace
Checked the Mussulman's advance.

Then returning to his castle
In far distant countryside,
Silent, sad, bereft of reason,
In his solitude he died.

I wandered lonely as a cloud,
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils

Or

Here lies Jon Bun,
Who was killed by a gun,
His name was not Bun but Wood,
But Wood would not rhyme with gun
And Bun would.

White Man's Burden.
>inb4 back to /pol/

"Icebreakers"

Candy is dandy,
but liquor is quicker.

— Ogden Nash

Just shoot me now.

...

c.d.a., Poema de Sete Faces.
IT'S PLEBBY BUT I LIKE IT.

Uhp, and you're gay

Cómo sabría amarte, mujer, cómo sabría
amarte, amarte como nadie supo jamás!
Morir y todavía
amarte más.
Y todavía
amarte más
y más.

Not the whole poem because it's too long for a tattoo

It little benefits that an idle king

The Aeneid

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

"Death by Water."

the safety's on.
>i browse /k/ too much

Parmenides' poem

he's showing good trigger discipline. he's ten whole seconds of the illusion of security.

that madman is holding a sig. his finger doesn't have to be near the trigger for it to go off.

holy shit this poem

Deep In Earth My Love Is Lying
And I Must Weep Alone

Short and sweet. Don't want a large tattoo.

none tattoos are gay
do it, on the arm where it will come into conversation

The Road Goes Ever On

This Too, Shall Pass

Preludes. TS Eliot. Second to last stanza.

Underrated

i identify you from the sight of thy mighty sword
i recognize you from the blow that counts the earth
Extracted from the greek sacred bones
Hoisted eternally in fine armor
HAIL FUCKING FREEDOM!