Poetry is the most useless kind of literature. The unemployed uncle of the family

I'd rather read a book about interesting characters then try to make meaning of shit prose..

>we don't know how to read poetry
speak for yourself pleb

you have to be a woman to understand poetry.

Maybe in the next life, then.

user, sing this to some heavily distoted/reverbed guitar chords

If you do it well enough, It'll be fucking great

Poetry is the greatest form of literature btw

poetry for most of its history was a hyper-masculine pursuit

I remember reading an interview with Javier Marías and they asked him if poetry was dead in this century, and he said, maybe, but it'll survive in the form of songs for now. So, there's that.

You don't know how to read rhetoric.

Because intelligence was a masculine trait. Now it's supposedly unisex.

>poethry is dead
>most popular music form is niggers making the jazz version of poetrhy
???

Man. She was like me in lineaments—her eyes,
Her hair, her features, all, to the very tone
Even of her voice, they said were like to mine;
But soften’d all, and temper’d into beauty;
She had the same lone thoughts and wanderings,
The quest of hidden knowledge, and a mind
To comprehend the universe; nor these
Alone, but with them gentler powers than mine,
Pity, and smiles, and tears—which I had not;
And tenderness—but that I had for her;
Humility—and that I never had.
Her faults were mine—her virtues were her own—
I loved her, and destroy’d her!
Witch. With thy hand?
Man. Not with my hand, but heart—which broke her heart;
It gazed on mine, and wither’d. I have shed
Blood, but not hers—and yet her blood was shed—
I saw, and could not stanch it.

bartleby.com/18/6/11.html

You must be American, user. Rock music is where it's at.

poetry is literature for geniuses.

>it doesn't take more skill to improvise rap than thinking rock lyrics
>inb4 all rap is about nigger behaviour

Stop whining and go listen to your niggers, then. Fucking hell.

youtube.com/watch?v=_31_UDs7Iac

>being this butthurt about the most important form of poetrhy that is still relevant

google "shakespeare rap"

If you only speak English I don't blame you for not liking poetry. It's a common, ugly language, not suited for loftier purposes. The range of sounds used is so limited, the language itself is extremely simple and blunt, poetry in English just isn't poetry at all.

My prose is not shit, It is short, a bit.
A midget of word.
But it all fits, all done in wit.

>Rock music is where it's at.

Rock, rap, metal, pop, ambient, edm, idm, breakcore, speedcore, noise - it's all genre fiction compared to classical music.

I'm too smart and my mental faculties too well-defined to understand poetry.
>let me arrange words in a deliberately confusing way, and jump from one obscurity to another, while describing a very specific, idiosyncratic emotion or thought of mine, which allows infinite interpretations for the reader as they see fit, therefore i am a genius poet
Kys retard. Poetry is for women and emotional fanatics.

I don't like it, I prefer Ye. But to each his own.

Its late and I'm going to bed soon, but I just thought it me might be nice to give you the (you) that I know you want. Goodnight.

Also, it doesn't have lyrics. We're talking music with lyrics, not music in general. The fucking state of Veeky Forums, I swear.

youtube.com/watch?v=MPoBgO1zvyw

rap doesn't need to be about niggers, is just poethry being improvised.

I see quite well through your cheap sophomoric rhetorical tricks, pleb. Don't assume.
>muuuh decline :'''((((
Do fuck off.

Your prose it is indeed quite shit,
Worse than being raped by Pinochet
But allow me to say, pal, you can improve
And there's nothing on Veeky Forums you have to prove

>muh antiquity idol worship
Can you even wipe your ass without Cicero's guidance?

>muh decline
Didn't say that at all. I acknowledge and understand why poetry has become a cultural anachronism. I am merely arguing those who cast it aside have not been brought up with the training to appreciate it. It has become to the masses a strange impenetrable artifact of a different world.

fpbp

poetry is not literature. with music and painting, they are the highest arts. the rest is a failed attempt to reach their level.

>Also, it doesn't have lyrics. We're talking music with lyrics, not music in general. The fucking state of Veeky Forums, I swear.

Classical music doesn't have lyrics? Are you dumb? Ever heard of, idk, Opera? Choral music? Lieder? And yes, it does have original lyrics as well as adaptations.

C'mon... kek.

so poetry is art and literature isn't? or the other way around? I don't get it.

>I was only pretending!

Yes, because we need retards to be pretending to be even more retarded on Veeky Forums

leave faggot

>AAAAVEEEE MAAAAARIIIIIIIIAAAAAA

music can't be art

I meant c'mon in the sense of "is this faggot seriously considering that shit?". You don't even like the lyrics on opera or choral music, be honest, what's your favorite opera lyric?

you can pat yourself on the back because I will no longer indulge a vulgar child like you in conversation

I like criticism, i just wrote that. (Is it middle school tier?)

Mr clock please, Why dont you talk
Why is there no tick Inside your tock
Your sound is hollow of fitting knock
Mr clock please, time moves still in lieu
Always we share a momment of you
We wait for the time to begin anew
Mr clock please, you set our pace
With the tick of your bellowing grace
Commander of time, we watch your face
Please Mr Clock
Dont tick
That final
Tock

replace "clock" with "cock" and I might read it

Done
Mr cock please, Why dont you talk
Why is there no tick Inside your tock
Your sound is hollow of fitting knock
Mr cock please, time moves still in lieu
Always we share a momment of you
We wait for the time to begin anew
Mr cock please, you set our pace
With the tick of your bellowing grace
Commander of time, we watch your face
Please Mr Cock
Dont tick
That final
Tock

I like it

youtube.com/watch?v=Tg6zLVip2A4

You may like this one then
Oh addiction
up in the sky
Why must you tell me
What to do
In between
My own thigh

You don't know! kek it's alright pal. No need to act like you're an opera connoisseur.

Religion fanatism (addiction) in the form of a God in the sky, dictates people what to do with their genitalia. Nice.

user, Please I respect thy taste.
I as of the same artful race.
Please, judge some of my poetry?
Ive not of but dreadul grace.
Here me please, but put my ego to knee.

[email protected]

are you:
?

rapey rape yes i rape
the ladies let me
rape and rape
you may ask yourself
does that make it rape?
and the answer is yes
because i force my celibacy
upon women vying for my seed
and so I rape them
by forcibly denying them my sex
then giving it to them when they want not
my peen injected into their vagene
I rape in the morning
I rape in the evening
I rape myself
I rape rapers
I break into prison
rape rape rape
you say its an ugly word
I claim its beautiful
keep an eye on your gurl
cuz ima get at that ass

triples nigger
god i'm awful
I said to the void
while streaming the oscars
in a displaced loneliness

Yes!! Thank you

Not many people get my poetry, I think my colors may be destitute without the proper perspectives.

Do you like this one?

Here stoic, in thought that broke.
I ponder, what is this beauty, if we can't grasp it, and molest it bound to our paper?

I wonder, how do I know If I've seen it, when others can never see where I try to shine, where it was but shown?

My mind, is but of sodomy, it is a mine, like a frontal lobotomy, a place the all but vacancies bellong.

What are you? Who are you? Where are you? Who knows you?
I, muse, my God?

Oh could be it be? This Three is this your only Key? What are you trying to tell me? Where doest thou toll?

Have you touched me so, do others also feel a glow? Ears that hear, please I know of one that is old.

To the ones that know for which for what was told. Listen a know, I have more of spring time that comes from cold.

the last line sounds very nigga-like.

Yes

Just
Me
Myself
And I
Where
Was Am I?

oh shit

solid get my compatriot

faggot shit dude, poetry is dead only a slect few can do it in modern day, you are not one of these

What I like about that particular one is that it conveys much information in such a small space.

At least im trying knickle stick.
Oh frogs and crickets trickle
At the sick in the night.
I just write for the fun
I think its fun.

I just want to share my fun for poetry.

I want to share my God Forsaken. LOVE.

you misspelled *belong you stupid nigger

sorry i don't mean to be rude i have tourettes and assburgers

>my mind is butt sodomy, it is a mime, like full-frontal lobototmy, a place all the but vacant nigger

really liked this line

Ok so how do you read poetry?

YOU DONT GET ANYTHING FOR TRYING

THERE R NO pARTICIpATION AWARDS

TRY HARDER LIFE WILL SHIT ON YOU AND MASTURBATE OVER YOUR SLEEpING BODY AND YOU"LL WAKE Up WITH HAIR FULL OF DEMONS SEMEN CHUNKY AND CLUMpY

that is my advice

with a finger up his ass

one line at a time, unless its an ee cummings joint, in which case while masturbating looking yourself in the eyes in the bathroom mirror breathing out the verses with each meaty stroke of the wand, kissing your reflection with the raw passion of a lifer in prison deprived decades of sex with women lost in the arms of a deadbeat prozzie named Susanne but called phantasy

Lol demon spells kiss my face!
Silly spice. :) no reality.

that was fucking horrible

what are you even saying

your mom liked it when i whispered it into her ear while entering her from behind

Nonsense.
Idk Im bored

Like I said its all fun :)

This is the place of where all meet
Into my slumber I fall into the wheat
Of the place come fathers holy bread
Into neverwhen she met me as I beau
Here I shall give count and take to feet
The wonder trembles of when we meet
In anticipation it calms and mellows
Curiosities peak in mysterious time glory
For a fellow with knightly deeds flourish
To his knees will wobble of lorish stunder
Without any words loud enough to speak
He r
Beatuies defined, Godly and divine
Her will, his law, together wrote in time
Now out of the momment, out of relign
They depart back onto their own line
Out from slumber, out to never when
No more dreamscape land, of love stoke
Arising into light, into their own they woke
Into the place of disease and jobless dead
Still they spoke, of time of golden thread
Out into spreading desolation, further reaching destination
Leaving each dream, into the realm of truth
It is the beseech of the freedom of life
The place where nature and nurture are strife

wtf I wrote this like 3 months ago, why are you posting my poem? its not even very good

Hey there, look up into me
I know you wana listen to me speak
Come and step into our sea
Come down under where
Its hard to breathe
Hey there, look at me
I hear you soul sister, and Im lettin ya speak
Come and dance and step to this beat
Come down under where it starts to steep
Hey there, look at me I feel this rythm and this beat
Come and be hypnotised deep with me
Come down under where we speak of hear
Where our feet are in harmony

You didnt write this shit head

Changing colors of the spring time Spren
You have brought the chill to its very end
We wait for the rain for our brothers bread
With the fallen waters drop to earthen bed
You bring us heat out of cold winter den
To green given leaves for our prancing friend
In their museful ways of melodic blend
We watch the dance of Spring foot Spren

>Employment

Lower caste detected.

>paid entities of movement

Well this is weird. Why the fuck are you pretending to have written my poetry? The board is anonymous bro. You literally have nothing to gain.

Huh. Weird. Seriously, thought I wrote that. It must of been in the wrong folder. Any ways, I still like it.

To hint at larger things that prose or philosophy can not express.

dude i was just kidding

really good

Does that mean you like it at least

Woah man, good poetry! I'm actually a neditor for my uni's literary magazine, give me your best poem and if I like it, hell I might publish it.

Here I beat
My beef meat
Here i strike
My stick

Oh sin
What to do
What to do
I dont want to fall
Down
In love with you

oh i didnt read it

:(

just read it. initial reactions: it feels slightly misshapen, and i don't think it has the emotional punch you're going for. Not terrible, but could definitely be whittled down

kek

Yep. What's even the point of that? It doesn't express anything interesting or vital about time or its nature, and who cares about an actual, literal clock winding down. And what's up with the punctuation? Including commas but not indicating sentence endings because you assume line breaks are supposed to take care of that for you?