/fa/ poetry
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You are currently reading a thread in /fa/ - Fashion
You are currently reading a thread in /fa/ - Fashion
Post /fa/ poetry & poets.
>>11459407
What the fuck does this have to do with fashion
>>11459407
you got my answer anon. you got good taste mate
i'd add this handsome motherfucker, w.c.w., and dickinson
>Black jeans
>Guys, how do I keep up with black jeans when all I wear are they? Black goes best with my closet, but I literally wear one pair of jeans all the time, washing them only when I habe time to. How do
>people who wear black only manage their bottoms when it can only be limited to black jeans and black trousers...
/fa/ poetry.
My life sucks
Only good thing about it are my ZX Flux
ADV Full Black
With shoes like that you don't need a Cadillac
>>11459535
Agreed.
>>11459685
The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.
This is such a fucking great poem mate.
>>11459695
>>11459535
Post more Ezra Pound lads.
>>11459558
Tfw you can't manage your bottoms
>>11459695
This is on point.
might be the most basic Pound, but it always got to me and frankly, after years of studying english literature, it still does.
>>11459695
>>11460960
Oops, I should read before posting...
Anyway, the spacing of the original publication really adds to the charm in my opinion
>>11460975
agreed. the wikipedia source i used didnt seem to have the spacing there. ive seen some publications where even the second line is indented
"He went like one that hath been stunned,
And is of sense forlorn:
A sadder and a wiser man,
He rose the morrow morn."
raf simons,
rick owens
usually what,
i'm,
dressed
in
>>11462590
tricky ricky succ my
di cky
>>11460960
Whats a bough?
>>11462798
Like a branch.
> Baudelaire, 'The Enemy', translated by Richard Howard:
My youth was nothing but a lowering storm
occasionally lanced by sudden suns;
torrential rains have done their work so well
that no fruit ripens in my garden now.
Already the autumn of ideas has come,
and I must dig and rake and dig again
if I am to reclaim the flooded soil
collapsing into holes the size of graves.
I dream of new flowers, but who can tell
if this eroded swamp of mine affords
the mystic nourishment on which they thrive...
Time consumes existence pain by pain,
and the hidden enemy that gnaws our heart
feeds on the blood we lose, and flourishes!
> But really all of Les Fleurs du Mal is fantastic. Highly reccing Howard's translation.
>>11463889
This is really interesting.
>>11459535
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
>>11465348
ayyy "this is just to say" is my favorite w.c.w. poem
