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im on the net me boys posted:I submitted four poems to Poetry Magazine. Now to wait seven months. gj top of page poem obsessive compulsions destroy animal love i'm my toxic context casual causal slips past the mesh forges riverbeds they cling to ankles their gibbous guts live, nourish blaspheme, bleed break the barriers, disuse the used, loathe the selves, dance through teeth, claw without bone, tear with your voice and die together e2: so i just got accepted into a free e-zine for a poem about a goon meet with a p low ratio of pubs to subs, which i put down to the efforts of this thread. not naming it cuz doxxing, but i'm p hype considering this threads awk start, so ty goons take the moon fucked around with this message at 02:50 on Nov 13, 2018 |
# ? Nov 9, 2018 20:51 |
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# ? Apr 25, 2024 23:29 |
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I haven't written (bad) poetry since high school, but then my best friend went and died on me after 16 years of being my missing puzzle piece and participant/encouragement/instigator to all of our shenanigans. He was born with a broken spine, but he never let it slow him down. It doesn't have a title yet. Born broken but lived full. Never say die. Did you know? Too soon. Gone. Come back. We weren't done. left_unattended fucked around with this message at 16:23 on Nov 14, 2018 |
# ? Nov 14, 2018 16:18 |
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left_unattended posted:Born thank you
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# ? Nov 14, 2018 20:20 |
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teavolved i felt my heartbeat on the sheets that kind of means time is flowing? precepts grown interlude psychic pain i am tired of rain tired of snow tired of morning dew because waking hurts and coffee chills too layered worn too wired to gloss glass glossolalic nightmares can't be put to page break we've been orphans too naive to be parents we've been left alone your situation matters raised by subway stations heaven's sake hell's soju does it unpretty your moon? does it smog over? so you can dream it close or away i swallow it i talk over it i chase it and it pierces
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# ? Nov 15, 2018 16:51 |
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e: embarassing
take the moon fucked around with this message at 21:13 on Dec 25, 2018 |
# ? Nov 17, 2018 17:45 |
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im on the net me boys posted:I submitted four poems to Poetry Magazine. Now to wait seven months. I hope you get every one of them!
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# ? Nov 18, 2018 18:42 |
Nahrix posted:This is awesome. My humble suggestion would be to make some very small changes on the third verse: thank you! i'd completely forgotten about this one and i definitely need to go over it again. the only problem with your suggestion is falling out of the metre, but there are a few things i dont like about the poem that i want to rework anyway, so i'll add it to the list and check it again properly when i get the energy. speaking of, ive just finished another rework of a poem i'd left aside for a couple months, and i'm really appreciating the time in between to distance myself from what i'm trying to say (and how impressed i am with myself for saying it) vs what's actually there and what the medium requires to work e: i just realised this thread is open to the public and i might want to submit this one to a competition, so ive edited it out for now. sorry! Sulla Faex fucked around with this message at 13:24 on Nov 27, 2018 |
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# ? Nov 27, 2018 12:57 |
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Sulla-Marius 88 posted:e: i just realised this thread is open to the public and i might want to submit this one to a competition, so ive edited it out for now. sorry! im sorry i missed it e: embarassing take the moon fucked around with this message at 21:13 on Dec 25, 2018 |
# ? Nov 29, 2018 00:37 |
yeah alright, i was looking into a few competitions and apart from being too poor to chance the entry fee on a beginner level poem, it's all just prose now, and form poetry seems out of vogue. no point whatsoever. so here's what i've got so far - just for you, op! This old town Black-bruised limbs in rotting trees Hold no birds and bear no leaves Long gone the gale that howls and wails, now Silence stalks enfeebled breeze. Hollow houses creak and sway Hallowed halls of walled decay The roads well-worn, cut through the thorns, Wend and bend, let no man stray. Nothing grows in this old town Save the ghosts who gather round The effigies and shrines divine, like Motley weeds in hostile ground. Gruesome puppets fed false word Twisted recall, lines absurd A bitter farce, this comfort sparse of Sterile womb for hopes interred. Countless steps carved in the road, Hewn from guilt, narcosis slowed, Have built this tomb, in debt to whom Surely no more steps are owed. Shackled thoughts for freedom yearn Flame-starved streets await their turn With jealous hands, these holy lands Time has set at last to burn. So let the kind cathartic flame Bare the lies behind the claim That breeds ill sleep: if needs be deep, Fate might yield to human shame. Roaring heat devours all Courtless thrones whose ancient fall Was set in stone, despite the groans of Disgraced king turned common thrall. Falling ash forms final cast, Lays these ghosts to rest at last. Fear less the curse of gods adverse - Man's worst hell lies in his past. Now the lonely footsteps lead Past the boundaries, past the weeds, Where banished night cedes morning light: Tantalus, from prison freed.
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# ? Dec 3, 2018 20:20 |
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it looks like a lot of effort and craft went into it. it passes the "better than anything i could ever write" test for sure. thisSulla-Marius 88 posted:Countless steps carved in the road, is my favourite verse. narcosis is a sweet word, obviously bringing to mind necrosis, implying a deathlike trance or psychoactive decay. you obviously have a gift for this, so i would tend to your flowers of etymology games and tight rhyming. i wouldn't pay to sub a poem, tho im kind of sailing on the do it for free get yrself out there boat rn. i think for sure theres a spot for this super sweet form poetry, just scour the internet imo. thank you fields aeons of psyche blunt fist leashes petals to butterflies they float over deep reflections find solace with others then mountains shift flood last time they sigh and gash cut up a delven earth and coma wings shift to rustled sheets give in tumeric spirit a haze, a mist, a shimmer the convex falls into warpaint crows unkept hybrids of selves thatching eyes and waves, bleed drain them and cry leaves in smoke grass blades and clouded sky proto synthesis, dissolve chems stray wolves and toxic souls feel light, thinking of light, deep water, aged bones, lost memory frighten and hold love for amber vein caged in mirrors, bones, skin, broken solar burns disease and torn eyes real, degrades, sugar pale, left alone walking is balance and headrush knifed at edges. scour at, aura spit at godheads, break daughters what did it feel like? never words world birther, world bearer slept visions of medusas take the moon fucked around with this message at 03:16 on Dec 14, 2018 |
# ? Dec 6, 2018 01:00 |
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# ? Apr 25, 2024 23:29 |
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I wrote this to help cope with the end of a 7 year relationship. I was driving back home and the title and a few phrases just kinda popped into my head. I’d love any thoughts! The Haunted Heart is Home The hallway is empty and cold, It echoes only of residual memories trapped in time like amber. The windows are broken and dull, Somehow dead but all seeing at once. The wallpaper is tear stained, or is it just water that changes the colour? Every creak and groan brings hope, A warm spot that could be your homecoming. But I’m told that hope and hauntings aren’t real. And it’s all just the wind.
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# ? Dec 29, 2018 01:21 |