The other thread is dying, so
Poetry Critique thread
>>7980731
The other thread is higher than yours and isn't even half filled.
>sage
I saved your poem and I'm going to publish it in a book of other stolen poems from threads like these and there is nothing you can do about it.
>>7980817
What's it called?
>>7980817
gonna be a shitty book man
>>7980835
^^^^^
This
>>7980731
>mutt
EEither your talking about a dog or someone stupid. Your poetry makes no sense
>>7980828
it's called
a stolen book of mediocre mongoloid poems
>>7980845
Written in mongolese?
O' inspiration, come to mine empty skull for a spree vacation
For in thy sea myself shall seek ye who doth not speak
But ye who doth sneak about mine pee like a bully
O' we quite yearnin' to get a nice golden scene pourin' out n' plashin' over thy vessel
It comes unto me 'n thee face and all about the place
"And but so a bit of soy to that sauce," continued Dr. Seuss.
>>7980842
I mean a dog. Dogs have very good hearing.
Some of the worst poetry I've ever seen, reads like a cross between Linkin Park, La Dispute, and that stupid Bukowsky parody I wrote up.
>>7980881
No one would understand it
>>7980731
I wish people wouldn't write poetry about relationships, it's always cringey.
During phone-light bright on pallid faces
Busses heave forth on hymns of power
Winding up in whining song.
And we, lamenting our final hour,
Pour into cup of the morning throng,
Drunk into throat of private mourning
Show me all
People at once,
And I’ll show you no one at all.
(In the sky the birds are flocking — but it’s only a flock at all)
" v = (t x (p / h)) / absolute spirit "
You, soul in time, dime a dozen million,
Alienated, mediumless creator, sleeping,
Laboring (to labor (to labor (to labor)));
Days are distilled into days without end
Til binary phases of weekday-weekend
Swing both ways from pendulum and
Cortisol fueled compulsive checks
Of the watch
clickclick clickclick clickclick
Of the clock
clickclick clickclick
Of hours
Of minutes
click click
Of seconds
click
And silent quantum blips
"Selv-Konkurs til Doden (the self-bankruptcy unto death)"
I would swear this despair is a breed as strong
As to move the muse of sickness in his grave, but,
Do I mistake reason for mere emotion?
Raging cogito for my measly sum?
Does a child tantrum, or groan a point?
Do I dream the deep-rooting ache, or do I wake?
Conscience dictates the smother of the wail.
>>7980867
Good purely because it made me laugh. However, if this is, ironically, an unironic poem, then use "you" and "my" and "yours" like a normal dude would.
Devil took the pistol-
Aimed-
Trigger-
Pulled-
Brains sprayed Floor_
Blood soup_
Goddamned man and Devil,
More a man than any Man to me_
>>7981804
What's it like being a faggot, eh f'am?
>>7980867
>O'
Dropped.
