No poetry thread?

Forgot to say, the title of the poem is "The Rape of Little Girls." It's a narrative poem told from the perspective of an schizophrenic rapist.

>Felonious slime

is this supposed to make me laugh?

>our soul's proclivities
kys romanticist scum
all art is artifice

fingers of smoke curl up in the sky
You glance at the lines on your hand
and see one of a thousand answers why
A temperate disease, a shot primed with hurt
aimed not at your head,
but instead at the dirt
what loss that there is
which grows increasingly unbound
is known by many
but to few is found
where is Hope?
here and there, to an abstract degree
stick to the world
else life will both begin and end at the sea

Started on this piece I want to write for my mother. How is this for a start? Curious about a few lines.

I imagine that there is a story behind this, so I don't know if I'll understand more than the context we're given. I like it though, it doesn't flow the best but that's okay.

I posted the non-edited pic

As I said its a start. Yes, it will carry out a story of our (my mother and mine) lives. Care to point out where the flow struggled?

this is called Sadams Dougla

ramrod concupiscense,
intellectual impotence,
i sure am stupid and horny.
periphrastic form,
cicumlocutory porn,
the fuck,
why won't i just get to the point?
calumny abounds,
stultification resounds,
you've hurt my feelings,
but i can't argue with that.

i'm just some man with a plan,
some joker toker,
some stare bear.
don't expect anything of this man,
even though i explicitly stated i had a plan above.

this is a marvelous poem, but it sounds more for a lover than a mother, oedipus

Like I said, I liked it, though it seems like their are too many syllables (maybe?) in between each rhyme. That creates a stiffness that makes it difficult to read with rhythm. I don't know if that was intentional, I just assumed not due to the presence of a rhyme scheme. It is only a possible issue at the beginning, though.

In the beginning it will, yes. But it will grow into a clear love for mother, not a lover.

why not both

There are a few lines where the syllables differ. It's structured around eight; but stressed and unstressed syllables caused me to give or add a few to certain lines to 'preserve the flow'. Line five is missing one. But if you read this almost like prose, with very little emphasis on line breaks, it should hold. Lines ten and fifteen were my points of most concern.

I suffer from the affliction of taking life seriously.

so, you admit that it sounds like a romantic poem from the beginning? i guess whatever works for you. my favorite part is the very beginning, until "whirl". it feels like you dropped the ball after some excellent imagery. the rest is riding on the coattails of that excellent start. anyway, a nice poem, i'm sure mom will cry.

bait

also, i'm not sure you mean to use "it's" there.

._.

If I must say, it's written from the viewpoint of (me) at a point in time where my mother died unexpectedly, and the time before this event (I) largely ignored her presence. So it'll be an imagined trip through places (I)'ve been in (my) life, and places she's always talked of us visiting, with an ending quite self contained.

I agree though. I get fancy after whirl, and the initial rhythm doesn't return until the 'hand-in-hand' line. I'm uncertain if I should stay rigid to peak beauty or follow the natural winding road the poem is taking to encapsulate its meta nature.

If it's really not, then barring the entire nature of the poem, you must realize the irony of of stating "symbols of.." in a poem. If not, start from square one. Poetry is evocation, not statement. No abstractions. Describe what you see and what you're trying to make me see. I can't see symbols of... but I can see a mirror cracking when you touch your hand to it.

I juat started reading and writing in general.

I appreciate the feedback. Literally my first attempt at an iamb style poem. I barely poems though.

Thank you for the feedback and advice

no, you were fancy before whirl, and the rest tried to keep up but failed. that's what i was trying to tell you.

Faggots to the left of me,
Pseud's to the right,
Here I am,
Stuck in the middle with (You)

...

>Faggots to the left of me,
>Pseud's to the right,
>Here I am,
>Spooked in the middle with (You)

I don't see why not

I dig it

Be Inspired™ CREST® Vanilla Mint Spark™ Fluoride Toothpaste

Dead white pearls
In their rotted oyster.
Wrought of fluids,

And plaque within
Teeming meat both
Fetid and fecund.

Much like soil, like filth.
Pot fears kettle so black,
Preened by stiff wool,

Ripped with metal talon.
With gore still sloughing,
Imbibes on new trashes.

Self-loathing maw,
Deceptive slaughter,
Through the teeth.

Centuries pass deathly,
Breath souring, tongues
Twisted in all madness.

Gape now, rotted oyster,
Open molars to inspiration,
Receive my toothpaste.

Look, the sky is blue
Like the violets you picked up from the bayou
Don't be angry at my plans,
Or the pace in which I thread my path,
I'm only a simple man,
Nothing else is there for me,
but hard work and the loft dreams of attaining the Supreme,
Mind--it's all I have, my body withers as the nights and day fly past

>the loft dreams
Typo: meant to "the lofty dreams"

whatever it sucks

I literally banged it out in less than 2 minutes, you damned bugaboo

There once was a poet from Nantucket;
who practiced free verse

>dat subtle foreshadowing when the first line doesn't follow the expected meter

>Fudgy with butter
I love this.

I think referring to "you" makes it a bit preachy. Really like how it spans the sky, earth and sea. Love where the last line is going, but it needs some trimming to really reach its full potential.

The first four lines would be perfect for me if "breezes" was just "breeze" or "a dark breeze". The second stanza is a pretty big change in tone, which works, but kinda rubs me the wrong way when the second line tries to sound subtle with "access points". The last stanza makes a jump not in tone but now in recipient (I'm assuming it's being said to "Alice"), which is interesting, but it would flow for me better if it was either italicized or put in quotations. I really do like the imagery though, and how it's been ramped up from the sensuous first stanza into something crassly sexual, but still "high class".

wax on, wax off
get your rocks off
buzz lightyear
can of beer
komodo dragon
busted wagon
open chicken coup
k-pop group
lonely spinster
laoded winchester
cast die
samurai
hi

Rubbing penises together

I dig this millennial ode

I find
My life
All too often imbibed
In bees
And bone-hurting-juice

And those
Whom'st’ve
Followed my footpaths
Shouldn’t’ve
In truth

"12:06"

I don’t wanna go
But I’d like to stay
Wishes of sitting still
While swaying
Here and fro

It’s early, as early
As noon can be
I don’t think
About it, time
Does that for me

This poem’s just about
As long as this cigarette

this gives me a word boner

Sometimes I look up at the night sky to name constellations
And as I do so, I realise how tiny I am
And how I'm staring straight to a great void
A gread chaos
Panic consumes me
As if all the weight of the universe is about to crush me
Or the gravity of the earth is too weak to hold me

Sometimes
And
And
A
As
Or
me
me
me

Too many filler words, especially at the beginnings or ends of lines. It really waters things down, and you can say the same thing with a fraction of the words. Example:

While naming constellations,
I feel tiny.

Staring into a great void,
Great chaos,
Panic consumes me.

Will I be crushed,
Or will I float away?

Damn. I guess I meant fancy with rhythm and not imagery. Rhythm was straight forward in the beginning and by whirl it gets choppy. I might rework it then, we'll see.

I put my thumb over my thumb over my glans,
The left thumb,
When nobody's around, fully dressed
I'm not circumcised,
(That always comes handy),
I let slide the foreskin over the nail,
My semi-erect dick looks like a fleshy tulip bud,
When I sniffed my tumb it smelled good,
It makes people angry I can truly enjoy something this idiotic and wierd,
But humours are atlantic and joyous,

When the anarchists left the city in shame I was there shaking their hands,
They walked with a certain stiffness,
They all had an hard on but they did nothing to his it when I approached them,
Yes, I shook all their hands,
But I would have spit on their next homeland,
I they just pointed it up on an imaginary map,

I took a good look at them, then,
While they we're running away,
Voracious clumsy prophets

oh dear,
the steer is frightfully near,
so clear,
I can see his raggedy ear.
I fear.
He paws and puts on his sneer,
And nears.
I fumble and fall oh why did I have a third beer -
and did hop in this paddock with a can and a leer.
So regretful am I,
I shed a tear,
as I am viciously gouged by the steer.

RAte Me ANd check my DUBS

What did you see in her lovely eyes,
Part of yourself, gorgeously disguised?
Frenzied with passion, I too sought out
A beloved, for who can do without
Relief from this great and ancient riddle,
Of knowing too much and too little?
As waves beating against rocky cliffs,
We rebound into oceanic bliss

"Bum a Fag?"

I can't stop blowing
Turkish royals

Which sucks,

'Cause I'm not gay

Bump

Thanks for the advise. Truth is I've been trying to get into poetry and that was my first attempt.
So as I understand it when writing poetry you have to keep it simple/minimalistic?

tomorrow comes
prison is very silent
nothing to do here

And the night goes
And here I am
Laying in the bad
Another night awaken

Improvisado ayer borracho y ya posteado en el hilo hispano.

You really wanted some tits huh

I do dawg dats fa sho
Mind to critique it tho?

>jokes on them, i was only pretending to be retarded

How much piss is there
in the pool nobody
knows how to chek the purity
it's all just chemicals
human insides
embrace them with thine eyes
my toaster says
i can i i everything else
while i frown back and stick loaves inside it
piece by piece
kitchen-esque puzzle style
sometimes i wonder if she is a robot
that feels and
certainly can talk
whenever i ask for the kid-a love
she gives me the straight
balls have 0 to me to me to me to me to me to me to me
so i unplug her
plug her back in
and call the indian hotline
where they politely say
then kew for yor pay-chance
and transfer you to another her
that speaks clear
press one for an emergency
press 2 for i i everything else
so i have to put the phone down
and remove my battery
when you find me tell her
that her have 0 to me to me to me to me.