Re-write this poem in the style of an author (prose or poetry) and others guess who you were going for

Tyger Tyger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

could probably have been a lot of people without the 'and so on'

The tiger who had been residing in his cage in the local zoo of the big metropolis that is the capital city of a western European country (the name of the country being irrelevant to the story (or poem) and as such is omitted in this text) and had been being fed unsatisfactorily, had finally become fed up (not with food, although what exactly he had become fed up with is not exactly clear to the author, or even if the aforementioned feeding up is indeed the cause of the subsequent actions following the feeding up). Having speculated as to the reasons of the transpired event, not yet to be described in this text, it is time now to move on to observing the actual event itself - the cage with which this particular representative of the /Panthera tigris/ (slashes denote usage of italic font) species, has suddenly, or gradually (again it is unknown to the author and probably also irrelevant to the reader), has brought the number representing the structural integrity (or would have, if such a thing existed in the reality in which this particular tiger resided (important to note, as there could be an alternative reality where my description would be based in reality)) of his enclosure to a flat 0 (or a low enough number that would allow our friend (presumably), the big orange (presumably) cat to what he did. In this moment, I am euphoric. What he did? It is not clear if he actually did something. It is clear that he WAS something. What was he? He could, with confidence, just as I could, say, or more exactly, assert, that he was finally (if he had been waiting for this moment, as many of us undoubtedly would like to presume) - out.

Tristan Tzara gtfo

faggot i was going to post that

Cage was destroyed today, or was it yesterday. I don't remember.

The tiger that sat these 4 years in its cage of pig iron and rusted rebar did break out one autumn night in September. He sat amongst the burning sweet-gum leaves a pastel and forlorn orange effigy under a star-dogged sky and was a long time doing so; unable to realise his self-prescribed freedom.
The zookeepers saw the cage in the morning.

The tiger got out.
The tiger got out.

kafka?>

The point is that - and this is the only capital-T Truth out there - the tiger that until this very moment was in its cage, the same don't-come-near-or-i'll-kill-you tiger that was wandering in there, now is gone. And it broke its cage in this very American i'll-do-it-right-now kind of way, and all you can do is say yes, yes, the tiger is out. And there is something sad and banal about that.

Damn, that's pretty good for a six year old.

And but so basically this tiger(1), being insatiably edacious as tigers naturally are (more or less uncensurable when you're only ever fed scraps from the zookeepers bucket twice a day, whether you like it or not bucko so you're well advised to just make the best of it) set about at, riving the bars of the Shor-Line(tm) cage apart(2). And then the tiger, at this point just positively eager and champing at the bit to get free is getting closer and closer and the Crest-toothpaste-like blend of despair and excitement that you feel when you're this close to finishing some major project like tearing apart your cage or writing a letter to your dear grandmother(3) or down to the smoldering roach of some fine Bob Hope, but so this tiger is slicing at the bars harder and harder and the zookeeper, having heard the most awful, grating sound has come over and notices that the tiger is seconds from consuming him, the zookeeper, as his, the tigers, third meal of the day, grabs his walkie-talkie.
"Je serai dévoré par le tigre, merci d'envoyer de l'aide"
And at this point all he can really do is pray and so he drops down to his knees and shuts his eyes.(4)

(1) Panthera tigris
(2) The claws of an adult Bengal or Siberian tiger varying in length from somewhere between 8 and 10.5 cm in length, which to this writer sounds just unbearably sharp and capable of doing damage, and which makes this writer quite happy to stay as far away from their cages as possible.
(3)These days tucked away at Sunny Lanes Retirement Home, Barberton, OH
(4) A Catholic, his deity of choice indeed being the Christian God

Camus definitely

When marx is referring to the capital, he does not mean that the tiger had use his labor to produce the desired product, rather it is because of capital that the capitalist engages in the desire production. Capital produces surplus and that surplus produces more surplus. capitalism's very nature as a pure organ without body forces the tiger to deterritorialize the cage and all other flows, following the flow or even the fluid of the machine-organ the tiger dissolves into the machine residuum. the disjunction of integral parts of the structure of the subject and machine without body gives the transaction between the state of the oedipal-cage to the schizo-out. the total destruction of the socius is materialized in the repeated continuous yet broken flow of yes, the mechanistic action of the production-machine.

dfw

...

very good

The tiger
He destroyed his cage
Yes
YES
The lady is out

Low energy post. Too easy

The Tiger
He destroyed his cage
but
But
BUT
He's still in

En la ultima noche de su prision
El tigre se levanto con esfuerzo y calor
a la luz nitida del parque,
pudo leer las instrucciones
de la destruccion de su jaula natal

Solo era necesario rendir sus colmillos
y vivir siempre al azar.
siendo asi desnudo y penoso
pues su pelaje callo del la infeccion social.

Damn, I came into this thread wanting to do that one.

I saw this tiger once, black stripes, ferocious teeth, the whole package. He was just sitting there in cage, doing whatever tigers do I suppose. Then all of a sudden blam!, he's out. Busted his cage right down. I couldn't believe it, I've never been so happy in my goddamn life. He got out. He really did.

The tiger was born in the Sumatran jungles. That's what I was told at least, not that I cared. It was there in front of me. I admitted it seemed more at home in the jungle. Yet, it was there in front of me, not in Sumatra and not in its cage. I admired the beast for a moment. It was pleasing to look at if you could remove yourself from the dire situation. She was muscular, but lean. Her coat shined in the sun, and she had the tread of a common housecat. I didn't care at the time, though. I couldn't. The tiger was out of its cage, so I shot it. People said it was sad. Perhaps, it was.

Brett's close

Bretty

What's it from

Female tiger
Men can't confine her
She destroys her cage

Yes.

I am liberated

-Rupi Kapur

dead giveaway *shniff*

Out. Get out.

>he doesn't recognize one of the most memorable passages in all of literature
Jesus christ dude.

if he hasn't read it, he couldn't remember it

I knew that passage well before I read Ulysses. It's posted on here pretty regularly, even.

10/10 kek

Infinite Jest.

incredible

Why did he kill the bunny?

The tiger broke his cage. It's a fucking metaphor or something.

Bukowski?
Hemingway?
Rupee Kaur
French person
?? I like this.

HST?

I didn't have any specific author in mind when I wrote that. I just wanted to see what somebody would come up with.

Really?? How did you tell? Are you a detective?

Tigers dont wear bits.

Underrated

DFW?

Ulysses. Now go read it, buddy.

This is water dfw
Consider the lobster dfw

The cage in which the tiger is located is ideology. The tiger in the cage is functional to the capital *sniff* and to the post-political. only when the the tiger breaks the cage people say "my god, the tiger is out, it is dangerous" and so on and so on.

WOW WHO COULD THIS POSSIBLY BE?

Deleuze (?)

Call me Nael.

In su lo ferro la feroce fiera
Facea tumulto senza triegua alcuna
E quella tosta e trista su la schiera
Coi denti selvi e duri color luna
A trangugiar minugia seguitava
Che dal sanguine ella parea bruna

As six-year old Neal
awoke one morning from fierce dreams he found himself transformed in his cage into a young, lean, hungry tiger.

*tugs shirt*

I need a Peterson Tiger is out now.

Was trying mccarthy desu

The tiger. Well, tigers are predatory animals, they're at the top of the dominant hierarchy. The tiger destroys his cage. Well, that depends on what you mean by "destroy" and "cage"
The tiger is wrestling with chaos like we all do, slaying the dragon and creating the world with it's pieces. Yes, the tiger is out. Well that depends on what you mean by "out." The bloody neo marxists want us all in cages, look at 20th century Russia. It's like, no, that doesn't work. People are like animals, they don't like being in cages.

Oof, trying too hard
I'll polish yours up in the morning

Thanks, i never peterson posted before.

You got me, was trying not to be too on the nose.

On /pol/ or /tv/, that could have flown. Could have impressed a few passersby. On Veeky Forums? Our shitposting levels are a little high. We've got strict standards, see. Writers and the like. It's all or nothing around here, kid. You're in or you're out. Judging by your post? You're out. With my help? Hell, let's just say I can get you in. I've got experience in these things. A whole arsenal of experience. I've got experience up to my sleeves. Hell, let's all or /tv/, that could have impressed a few passersby. On Veeky Forums? Our shitpost? You're out. Judging around here, kid. You're in the like. It's just say I can get you're out. Judging levels are a little high. We've got standards, see. Writers and the like. It's just say I can get you're out. Judging by you're out. With my help? Hell, let's all or /tv/, that could have flown. Could have impressed a few passersby. On /pol/ or /tv/, that could have impressed a few passersby. On /pol/ or you're out. On /little around have flown. Could have flown. It's just standards, see. I've impressersby. On /little high. With my sleeves. On /pol/ or /tv/, that could here, kid. You're out. Writersby. On /little high. With my help? Hell, let's all of experience up to my help? Hell, let's all or you in things. On /pol/ or /tv/, the like. I've got strict say I can get you in these that could have got experience impressers andards, see. I've got experience up to my help? Hell, let's just standards, see. It's arse

what the fuck

So this... is the power.. of Veeky Forums...

Jamie pull up that video of the tiger destroying his cage

Look at that tiger...
A thing like that will tear a man to shreds!

borges

john green
>the cigarette is a metaphor

the tiger was in his cage
i was on klonopin
my girlfriend was being obnoxious
"share with me"
"share with me"
"i want one"
i sighed and took out my phone
the tiger got out of his cage
but i like
totally didn't care

>not noting the age of narrator, girlfriend and tiger in brackets
>"I" instead of some one syllable normal person name

Tiger sprawled out in its cage. Hairy belly, large bestial penis stink of dried semen in the striped fur fury rage of hair. Teeth stained with the fresh blood of deer meat rended and ripped moments ago. Amber eyes flash in rage. He is caged in steel for the pleasure of humans. Tigerdick loved by chink boys keep it coming in their ripped assholes licking each others bloody prolapse.
'yes' Nael exclaims in sexual ecstasy 'YES' and he ejaculates over the pages. The tiger sets its fangs into the young lad's flesh. Teeth fall out because the junk the tiger was fed in the cage. 'The tiger is out' Nael rambles dying in dank blood and semen mixture, rotten teeth lodged in his abdomen.

>he has actually read tao lin

Probably not but this may be something written by chuck "edgelord" palahniuk

>he still hasn't read all the memes

>he lies about having read Hypersphere

It was actually an attempt at Burroughs

I know I kind of like this poem, but I don't know why. What is it that makes it so appealing (or good)?

The tiger lives in his box, he bears the weight of the cage.
The tiger has an epiphany: The metal is not my house, my house is my body.
I will live in affirmation of truth, and see the outside world.

It's straightforward and concentrated, which matches the theme of poem. Notice how it stops having that impact if you make it wordier or slower the pace.

The Man Without Qualities

Zadie Smith?

1. The tiger is in the cage
2. However he tiger is not everything that is in the cage
2.1 everything that is outside the cage is not the tiger
2.12 the totality of facts determines that the tiger is in the cage
3. The tiger could get out of the cage trough a possibility of atomic facts
...
7. Don't talk to the tiger please

Witty

I started off going for him, yes.

The tiger
He destroyed his cage
"But what is a cage?" Asked Socrates
"Oh Socrates this is a common fact! It is a structure that captures living beings" Replied the tiger.
"I am so saddened that knowledge can't be transferred by mere touch because if so, I could take your infinite wisdom. But please Tiger tell me, a man who knows nothing, if a creature that wasn't captured, but rather was birthed inside a cage, would make it any less of a cage?"
"No of course not!"
"Then shall we say that a cage doesn't "capture" a creature, but rather "contains" it?"
"Yes"
"Shouldn't we also see if it's purpose is to contain any living being?"
"What do you mean? I don't understand"
"When a thief is caught stealing cattle, where does he go?"
"Into a prison"
"And more specifically?"
"Behind bars"
"So why is it that there is this distinction between humans and animals?"
"I don't know, Socrates"
"The difference lies in the function. The cage is used to contain animals because they are dominated only by desire and thus only sensible things can keep them away. The bars instead contain humans who possess the ability to reason. The bars not only protect the outside world, but also punish the inmates and deter anyone to commit acts that would put him there"
"By the gods Socrates! You are right!"
The tiger returned into the cage.

was going for whoever wrote "the lady or the tiger"
don't know his name

Stockton.
eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/LadyTige.shtml

The best one

XVI
As the tiger destroys His Cage, he imagines himself free not only from his imprisonment, but also from the capitalist system.

XVII
However, he is not free, he is still an actor in, and consumer of the spectacle, His imagined freedom being nonexistent.

XVIII
The tiger is an actor in as well as a consumer of the spectacle, and can therefore not escape it.

I hope that's an exaggerated and unjust parody and the work doesn't read like that at all, because I was going to pick it up one day.

Dante?

pleb

Yes YES
Sadly i couldn't manage to write it in english but i'm quite proud of my sextain

What we ‘first’ hear is never noises or complexes of sounds, but the annoying child, the buzzing camera. We hear the visitors on the march, the north wind, the bored lion growling, the cigarette alit… It requires a very artificial and complicated frame of mind to ‘hear’ a ‘pure noise’. The fact that cameras and children are what we proximally hear is the phenomenal evidence that in every case Tiger, as Being-in-the-cage, already dwells alongside what is ready-to-claw within-the-cage; it certainly does not dwell proximally alongside ‘sensations’; nor would it first have to give shape to the swirl of sensations to provide a springboard from which the animal leaps away and finally lands inside a ‘cage’. Tiger, as essentially understanding, is proximally alongside what is understood. (Being and Tiger 34: 207)