Any of you robots write poetry to try and work out what's going on in your head? I do it cause I hate to share feelings with my family. Mine is below, feel free to contribute/criticise
She was There
and then She Left
vanished into my memories
leaving behind slivers of shadows,
wisps of wind,
Gleaming through the woodwork
She's There
in the Silence of a song
nurturing The fragments, buried deep
Why won't She leave.
She said She would leave.
She said say Nothing
And so i said Nothing
And so i said
Each unveiling of a memory tarnishes it
the diamonds slip back into the rough
the Snipping scissors
the Ragged razors
are keener.
When She's there, i lose her more
fading away
into the
dusk
>>27147465
I love poetry and it's probably the art form dearest to my heart but it's so fucking useless and no one can appreciate it. Just a total waste of time.
>>27147510
This is the first time ive bothered to share something, it's more cathartic to me. A hobby that isn't self destructive
cock
willy
bum
cunt
cock
tits
boobs
spunk
ass
cunt
cock
tits
butt
cum
tits
traps
>>27147467
crawling
in
my
skin
these wounds
they will
not heal
fear
is how
i fall
confusing
what
is real
woah oh
>>27147467
can you write a fresh one right now to describe this picture?
it would be greatly appreciated your first one is pretty good
The earling morning blight burns
through the cracks of the floor
Zip Lock sandwiches when will they learn?
Tick tock the wagie sets out the door
The bustling and the pending imprisonment
10 hour shifts burned calories
Leaving creases on their face time mispent
Another day another dollar in the factory
>>27147605
Thisis delightful
>>27147574
I'll give it a shot, its an interesting picture. Might take me a while though. Got nothing better to do
One day I will grin
And my woody will spin
Like a helicopter over the sea
But for now I'll just faff
And join the lads for a laff
Get home n tug my peep
Soft and sweet...
>>27147535
abstract approach
I shit in the corner again where the ants
Gather in droves to eat the discarded
Crusts and how they
Seem to dance across the surface of the rimpled turd
Keep them far away from my Waifu pillow or else I will
Buck and Ree at you tiny ants I
Want mommy to make a toaster strudel for me
But she is not here and so I
Urinate in protest and the hot piss pools
Delightfully in my socks
NEET life is best life
>>27147574
Hold Death in your hand
With Death in your eyes
A halo of hair
Light streams from the skies
Pouting lips,
out thrust hips
A twist of the head
what should i have said?
She stares me down
A bird of prey.
She can see my weakness
My feet mired in clay
Eyes downcast under her malevolent glare
Why did I ever believe
That I could stare?
I sit here debating normies
My belly gets a little squirmy
The feelings a little wormy
I look for mommy dearest
Tendies arrive on a plate
The feeling is really something great
It helps quell the hate
I love my mommy dearest
But every boy gets an itch
It really threw me in a fit
The last thing she heard was 'bitch!'
I miss my mommy dearest.
>>27147467
>>27147698
>>27147737
POETRY HAS TO RHYME YOU TRUCK-FUCKERS
>>27147752
Why does it need to rhyme?
>>27147752
No, it does not.
This comment is now original.
>>27147465
>>27147467
>>27147510
>>27147527
>>27147535
>>27147556
>>27147574
>>27147605
>>27147635
>>27147656
>>27147660
>>27147674
>>27147698
>>27147737
>>27147738
>>27147752
>>27147759
Ignore this post. Ignore this message. Do not bump this thread. Most importantly do no listen to the first 20 seconds of this video.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5gMSesHzMTY
Death.
Because you're dirt
Your personality is shit
You were an okay kid, but then you grew up to be a leech
Instead of blossoming into the beautiful butterfly you could've been
A Vocal performance for the roast of my age
http://vocaroo.com/i/s0FoWJbYSEC1
>>27147863
Always the goofy monster
The sight to see
The cursed face
The melted smile
The invisible frown
The hidden pride
>>27147863
thats gay uiiiii
>>27147884
I do not wish to die
I wish to be alive
To embrace and smile
Feel tears in my eyes
As i laugh and cry
>>27147905
if i wanted to read
wouldnt come here
u are a fag and a queer
stay away from me
>>27147905
To rip off my skin and embrace the cold
A bloody heart beating against my bones
Sprinkles of timid snow coming to rest
On the chilled carcass of my chest
For all the eyes to come and see
That i am me and only me
>>27147956
>>27147956
just fell asleep
you just bored me
why u come here?
you just bother me
>>27147956
Water returns to sea
And air to sky
In my dreams, i belong with you
And so do the worms, she said
As they return to the earth
>>27147956
I like the bodily imagery, seems violent but with a peaceful end from that violence. Really intriguing, a defiance through being at peace finally
>>27148002
the jews are insane
zionism reings
no kike must remain
juden must sail
>>27148002
I dreamt that i walked into a store
And a guy said 'wow you look like shit'
I asked if it was because i looked tired
And he said no i just look bad
I write songs, which is just poetry with music Tagged on it I guess
>>27147937
>>27147987
>>27148041
why you gotta be like that? it's just stuff from my diary
>>27148006
I appreciate that anon!
>>27148117
dont be a fag take the banter
>>27148134
taken
original
>>27148117
I should start keeping a diary/journal type thing to write in, do drafts and scraps. You ever let anyone read your stuff?
>>27147465
When I was younger, I started writing poetry because I thought it'd be fun
I spent hours on a poem and then I brought it to school to show my teacher to get some criticism
She pinned it up on a board and showed everyone
It was embarrassing because I didn't actually want to share it with everyone, but nobody teased me for it and the teacher started these poetry groups where anyone else could share their poetry
I stopped writing poetry
>>27148274
:(
maybe you can find your way back to it, poetry and writing in general is a good release when you don't want to engage with other people
>>27148238
This is the first time i've posted stuff from it. Yeah i really recommend it, i like writing down my thoughts.
It's mostly just one liners and words that i keep in .txt file. I try to make it as private and cringy as possible.
>>27148357
I've been writing things in my phone, need to transfer them over to something more permanent. Maybe one day I can look back at them and laugh about how sad they seemed. Keep the dream alive
Not sure if poetry or prose. Probably dumb but need to unburden.
The cage door is ajar
The lights, shapes colours outside
Shift and change
From form to new form
I do not know them intimately
I may come to harm
Be exposed
I stay inside the known
a space
two by two by two
the familiar
familiarity breeds contempt
when trapped
Its all etched on my mind
These mundane details
Every day the same
With only comfort in the known
I remain seated
Numb
Waiting to expire
Afraid to pass through the door
And surrender assurances and security
Afraid to live
Afraid to die without having lived
>>27147465
I know I'm not your,
Responsibility but,
I could use a hand.
>dem haikus
>>27147465
I wrote a short one about my favourite activity while studying away at Uni.
You, me,
The Nintendo Wii,
Any track, any lap,
But always,
Dry Bones and Diddy.
Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay
Back to tumblr homo.
ass is itching
penis twitching
vagina smelly
cum on belly
its real or fake
lied or a truth,
they are all talking to me;
about me, but if they arent.
im not crazy,
youre the one whos crazy
I've not written much poetry, but lately I've been trying my hand at some prose fiction. Please tell me what you guys think:
As the boy stepped out into the light, homewards bound, the park up ahead, where dogs chased and other children gathered, he walked through the school gate, nostalgically looking into a future that did not yet exist. The melancholic walk, marking the end of another painful day, he would face alone. The day was filled with regrets.
The shade of a tree sheltered him coolly for a moment from the summer heat and the smell of the flowers almost filled him with a calming peace. But he could hardly be at peace after a day like the one he had just had. Why did it have to be like this? His face flushed with red hot shame and embarrassment. He thought he would get home as quickly as he could and try to forget about what had happened, but he knew he would face the same thing the next day; embarrassment in front of all his classmates, dejection and shame over and over and over....How he wished he could wash those jeering laughs out of his mind! And worse, much worse, ----imaginary character looking on, not laughing, but looking at him with pity! With pity! And how she looked away when he saw her. He would bury himself in the flowerbed that lay in front of him, if it would clear him of the shame, the shame, the-
He tripped heavily on the pavement, clumsy, clumsy! Now red sun on asphalt, illuminated the graffitied concrete tower blocks, and the small concrete huts with weeds branching out of the cracks and windows, grey and dusty (what went on inside he did not know), and the cityscape, ugly and vast and domineering took a hellish bend and he was amidst all of it, the schoolkids chasing, playing, laughing (at him, perhaps?), the dogs, horrible and wolf-like, growling, maybe, and barking, vehicles - towering giants, machinery that pumped black fumes and that hummed, a whole orchestra, fierce and monotonous and...
>>27150398
If only he was an adult now - how easy it would be for him! People would recognize the talents he had; the superior intelligence, all those good qualities which his school mates ignored, or even turned their noses up at, would bear fruit and he would rise above the rest; his cleverness finally recognized and appreciated, no longer mocked, no longer laughed, despite his -----, Lily would love him, with reverence, with loyalty and piety, and he would be happy. Happy, happy, happy! content; at peace.
Little did he know, he would not be, would never be, at peace. These pains of childhood: dejection, hostility, ----, would only be maximised in adulthood; he would only become more lonely, more apart, distant from the rest, further; a drunk, a failure, appreciated by no-one, pitied, even, by no-one.
A black cat winked at him, again and again, and he felt a little warmth and happiness rise up in him. Not too long in the future, ten years maybe, nothing but drink would bring him such warmth and peace. It never occurred to the child, what the future really held in store. Mere fantasy kept him going; little did he know the perseverance of the hatred of his peers, little did he know that even at twenty five, he would still entertain fantasies of his girl Lily, aged nine and still aged nine in his fantasies, unable to find any interest in women any older than that (save a few years); never did he envision years and years of dejection during adolescence, then his first cannabis joint, his weekly, daily joint, then his cocaine evenings, regretted in the morning, the musty sweat of liquor and cocaine, clinging parasitically to his ugly and exhausted and useless body (at the age of twenty) all to fill, to cover up that fundamental difference from everyone, that distance, that deep longingness, and the hopeless knowledge that what was inside was undisguisable, was integral to him, and was there to stay.
>>27150398
>>27150415
Another piece I'm working on:
John scanned the mountains in the dark. There were a few lights in the distance and the chirping of crickets. It was vast but they were warm and safe in the car. John, the man, rugged and old, in his battered jeans and a beer can in his hand. In his shaking hand. As he tried to calm himself, he looked sidewise. The girl was soundly resting. Her bare soft foot touched his leg. His heart beat faster and blood rushed to his loins. He gently moved her away from him and then took a beer. He took a swig from the can and absorbed the landscape and the darkness and the gentle hum of the wind and the rhythmic buzzing of the insects and was lulled to sleep.
When he woke to have his morning piss and cigarette, the girl was no longer lying there were she had been when he had fallen asleep. John looked around. The landscape was beautiful. He pissed next to the car and lit his cigarette, breathed heavily, patiently waiting for the girl to return. She came out of a bushes, her lightly freckled face blushing as she saw the man standing by the car. Her dirtied dress clung tightly to her small body.
Morning, he said. And yawned. What a beautiful day it is.
Morning, the child replied.
We've got a lot of driving to do, but let's get some breakfast first.
>>27150461
And break fast indeed they did. They stopped at a quiet cafe in the road. It was a hot morning and bright and the ground under their feet dusty. There were trees and a few old houses and the big mountains around them. John let the little girl put on her sandals and hop out of the car and turn back to look at him before he got out. He liked watching her turn around and look at him. John smoked a cigarette and drank coffee while the girl ate toast and milk. Inside of the small and empty cafe, looking at the child focused entirely on consuming her food, he was aware of the unreality of that moment, of the vastness of the outside and insignificance of the two people involved in this scene. He felt how these moments of beauty and quietude seemed to last for so long yet passed so quickly, fading into memory. And then passing on to death. It was a moment only they would share, and it would die with them. And it was perfect indeed. But such thoughts shifted quickly from his mind as his eyes traced the tight green dress, barely conceal the small perfect flatness hidden there and he thought excitedly about what lay ahead of them.
Well I don't know about you, started Josh, But this is absolutely terrible story.
No, It isn't! It's a great story. I love it. The child gleamed. And sipped from her milk.
James paused and thought pensively for a moment. Well, even if I don't like it, somebody else might. As a matter of fact, someone does.
Well, next time I'll tell it better, he said.
You haven't finished telling it the first time yet!
I'll finish it soon, and that's a promise.
I don't want it to finish.
Nor do I, thought Juan. Nor do I. But he kept that thought to himself.
>>27150480
Driving through the mountain highway the vastness of it and the sky above and the smallness of them scared them. As a child Jim had been afraid of the sky. He dreamed about losing gravity and falling into that eternal nothingness and falling deeper there, alone. He dreamed about the world turning upside down and falling. He wondered what types of dreams the girl had, and whether she had dreamed about him before they took to the road. Pondering this he smoked a cigarette and sipped from his beer, the first of the afternoon. The girl ignored the landscape and read a book. They had brought a lot of books. It was going to be a long journey. And they were never going to go back.
The girl felt closer to Jakob than ever before. At the age of 9 she met him. He was awkward and rather ugly and he made the other children feel uncomfortable. At the age of ten she became friends with him. At the age of eleven she became something more than friends with him.
Jason sat in the library pretending to find a book to prepare for the lesson. Instead he was having a drink. No-one else went to the library. He was the only English teacher at the school. He could have beers anytime he wanted in that library, and read a book, should he choose to. The thing was small and quite old. Should he turn the lights of in the room, he could watch through the small window, the children going past, unseen, then open the window and have a cigarette. That was his lunch break. He would then go to class and teach Shakespeare to the children. He could make it very entertaining when he had had a few drinks beforehand. He could see today that the girl was enjoying his readings. He had recognised the girl the first time she was in his class. He was familiar with that face, freckled, blue eyed and inquisitive and serene and her short dark hair. He had fallen asleep thinking about her.
One day she was sitting on the entrance steps after school had ended and the children had all gone home.
bump, there's some really good content ITT
The eye pierced my soul
Like the moon, shining brightly
So familiar.
A bulwark shields me
The darkness fades, I see clear
Such a foreign warmth.
We fight for such a brief respite
The hearth's warmth is but a moment.
The wretched soul weeps for the moon
For the hearth is doomed to burn away.
Softly the night falls
The vault of heaven darkens
Like fog of Lethe.
Have stars deceived us?
Bittersweet tears fall again
My dream evades me.
We live and bleed to break our hearts
Such a melancholic dream.
A legacy of feigned amends
Our hearts are for the cloak and dagger.
>sum lyricz
>>27148402
this is really good anon. It reads like a lyric.
Do you know how it feels to be treated like shit by the person you love the most
Living everyday and getting ignored so much you feel like a ghost
Checking you phone every 5 minute, but no text
Not even from my best friend or ex
Living in such a materialistic world where you're supposed feel better just cuz you drive a lex
Going through the day showing you happy and confident
But inside every feeling is crooked and bent
Going home and praying for something heaven sent
But all you get is a push closer to the end
My your little babydoll
Bittersweet darling
Broken heart, lost soul
On the floor, crying
Taken by the darkness
But yet i seem to shine
Trapped like a caged bird
I wish i had you mine
Yearning for you so bad
Wasnt my love priceless?
Crying on the floor again
Lonely liquor princess
my first poem ever, im aware that its cheesy as fuck. i was very sad at that moment and tried to express it in a poem
>mfw
