work on the font work
Poetry thread
Nolan Perry
Luis Thompson
...
Daniel Johnson
Kill
You are
Self
Faggot!
Logan Rogers
Opening scene of a rock opera I hope to soon write. Very rough draft right now.
>Royal Grace
Bring him in, the dirty traitor,
let me see his wretched face.
Let me see the man who stands
before my king and all his lands.
Guards, quickly bring him to me,
so we may just him properly.
-
There he is, the tiny villain--
Should we tear you head from limb?
Hang you by your dainty feet,
and dress you as an Ogre's Treat?
My king, please, do tell me now,
what you make of this treacherous cow!
Silence reigns before the spy.
The darkness of fear deep in his eye,
held within the king's glare.
Nothing short of death, I swear,
shall bleed your lungs of all their air!
Insult my rule, insult my being!
Die for spineless treachery!
Wait! My king, hold your decree.
Think of the people, your majesty.
Think of our son, your prince.
What should he learn out of this?
Do not let lessons go unsung,
cut out this man's tongue.
Then set him loose--
Let his lack of words become his noose.
-
Kingly eyes, full of envy,
accept these truths reluctantly.
Booming orders masking shame
demand his men to obey her claim;
Before the king should change his mind
in light of being undermined.
But not before he loves his son,
who should know when right is done.
Adrian James
This is superficially borrowed from 'The Wasteland', in the sense that it yields the same impression Eliot's would on someone who does not read poetry.
Perhaps you're a better writer than I'm a reader, but I do not believe it has any actual purpose other than to look like poetry. It's like a weird caricature of creativity that presumes a textual adjustment of modernist presentation somehow constitutes an idea.
But correct me if I'm wrong, by all means. And by the way some slices and lines were extremely nice. This is like, "high novice" work, if I can give it a name. That means you have lots of potential and it's time you get more serious.
Justin Ramirez
/b/
Lol
I troll you
Fag
Dylan Foster
Head east, and clouds surround the peaks
In soft gray mist, laden and low.
They seem to always die in creeks
Before they breach the rainshadow
Which rules beyond, where sky can speak
The stupid blue of only sky,
And summer, lounging, kicks up its feet
With fading pinks in mid-July.
Jordan Fisher
I'd like to submit this under the title "The Master Troll"
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Joseph Watson
You must be new to poetry.
Kevin Ross
it's not that famous or good of a poem desu