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Bowied the thunderdome interprompt about cowboys screaming in the hills the darkness garments fasted, 17, priestess purifying Mountains she wore Stone White into the crowds but she just wanted a yurt and a quiet place to be herself Tyrannosaurus fucked around with this message at 14:19 on Mar 20, 2018 |
# ? Mar 2, 2018 19:52 |
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# ? Apr 19, 2024 04:02 |
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Ditto about the Puzzle poem being great, though I have nothing of substance to say, I also liked the one Uglycat posted, but I'm middlebrow enough to be fond of sentimentalism. Also Gave, though I kinda felt like you're jacking up the sentimentalism and that weirded me out. This place is really starting to get going. I'm always on the verge of tears, Though I've never cried. A heathen on the edge of cleaning, The high stakes at poker night. Not one being, but A pastiche of disparate elements, A collection of abandoned detritus, barely cohering. I am the blind seer Haunting blank pages As if Homer himself Were tied up in his lies. While an invisible hand pulls a switch, Causing invisible changes, And a seductive mouth, Reciting Heraclitus, Sheds skin. Into a sort of limerick, I guess. The rats in the corner Of a well-polished floor, They don't care anymore. "Your offerings of cheese are cliche", They say, "And better squalor's been found in mansions", They criticize, "And besides, you nameless heathen, We have standards, And don't like the cut of your jive." This nobody prefers to live alone. Waiting for the rats that sit Just out of sight, in some corner Of this nobody's Well-polished floor. Tiresias2 fucked around with this message at 06:49 on Mar 3, 2018 |
# ? Mar 3, 2018 01:04 |
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Uglycat posted:What is this thing we've built that nobody owns? hmm okay. things i didnt like: i dont like Being told what to do lol the entire stanzas of "she is" is pretty cliche (the lightning and the thunder) the verse about making out is also pretty cliche songs by default are humansongs you have to specify when theyre not what i liked: "how many great civilizations descend from feral children?" "stain your pages with more than just ink" overall felt maybe too didactic to take me anywhere Tyrannosaurus posted:the darkness garments please keep bowieing Prompts and writing these little fragmenting things. they're really good. you dont hear the word yurt often Tiresias2 posted:I'm always on the verge of tears, hmm i'm not really fond of I ams. but i thought each stanza was surprising at the end. you play with themes and phrases in nice ways, especially the last three stanzas. i dont have much else to say about this one, but it wasnt bad, just, i think, a little too ascetic i remember what Tiresias2 said about working with form so i wrote a poem with six stanzas, six lines in each, and six syllables in each line try holding on try holding onto snow clutch it to your heartbeat keep your spine straight, follow your skin to ice, veins lorn whispering, promising to lost crystalline flakes try eating winded leaves chew them between soft teeth blossoming forsaken trust growing fast underneath soles catching on violet lips tripping over stone and branch try fasting from sadness starving from kinder souls following the unloved cutting twined and taut thread keep themselves close to you and console through final thoughts try rooting through slit minds the gleaming river eros finds blood in thicker veins flows through wild and true until you stand over waves that dash against crimson shores try finding solace here where the people weep and gnash looking through the window bared the past is winded long around these sights and sounds that flow from brighter days and God, try gouging time windswept and never heard seeking crevice and depth it follows me to lash to tear these bones apart in grace and glory lost edit: hosed up a couple lines, edited take the moon fucked around with this message at 03:00 on Mar 5, 2018 |
# ? Mar 4, 2018 16:51 |
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I've been writing an essay on The Waste Land so I'm seeing a lot of Eliot in xitl and Ugly's poems (also Tiresias, I mean come on), I'm liking it all though Early Learner I study you as we stand at the roadside Your divination of illuminated entrails, their coalescence into signs through sounds and symbols My hand, encased by yours, is Gripped by a machine more beautiful and complex than any of those strumming through the world before us Muscle and bone bound stubbornly together yet united to produce the miracle of motion I feel them now beneath your skin; Their contraction into a reassuring squeeze. Everything shifts as we start forward Passing through Newtonian motions Each measured step into the system Inches becoming feet before yards. As we move across millennia of natural history, through portals forged in the fire of ancient forests, My mind is overcome by the enormity of our accomplishments- I am Atlas, bowed under the accumulated knowledge of everyone who was and ever will be. Here your fingers uncurl to reveal my hand, sweaty and red My other is wrapped around the handle of a blue plastic lunchbox, Dora the Explorer appraising the world: First day at school. 8 Ball fucked around with this message at 01:28 on Mar 14, 2018 |
# ? Mar 14, 2018 01:26 |
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based on someones advice im gonna try to stay in form. wrote a terrible tera rima today Held My eyes bleed stray light Seeing the body is a curse When the skin is pale and white Still i try not to make things worse Hopeful at the shallow glance When i talk it’s always terse Silence has always been my stance Lie awake dreaming Watching deer dance We are bright, kept gleaming The misery pool is deep The bridal path trips through meaning When we take that final leap We float until we slowly yawn Ambien drifts you to sleep Every day another dawn Another life, another seeing Then the memories are gone Through all this I’ve never held my being anyway, i'll crit the last poem soon!
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# ? Mar 15, 2018 16:49 |
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8 Ball posted:Early Learner i guess my criticism here is that there are some verses which dont make sense in the context of the poems surprise end theme? like the divination of illuminated entrails. if i think hard i can make it work, but its someone playing with gummy worms or something. it makes me Think but it doesnt quite all end up. however in context the rest of the verses are very strong. the fourth verse has a touch of what i was talking about but is easier to make sense of and lends the poem some Profundity. overall very strong and i Enjoyed the lines that werent connected to the overall theme. here is another bad poem in form, this one a sonnet: A Flower White All I want, I need, is a flower white But I’m still wandering through the garden My muse is as protective as a warden Guarded when she steps into blinding light Can she bring me flowers that are bleached bright? Water in winter until they harden Grip tight and tear every black stamen Until they decompose and rot from sight Then I think I’m trying to disappear This is my loss; the rhythm beats slow and lorn Anarchic, the memories I hold dear Because I've noticed paintings tend to leer Every rose petal comes with a thorn The child of earth strange as the wyrdest seer
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# ? Mar 17, 2018 00:25 |
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Bowied the thunderdome interprompt about poetry Not Not Really i’ve got page you me my thing you go bleeding effulgent and dumb like some angsty teenage word and i want to fistfight a mirror Burn a fire send a lying notebook straight to hell
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# ? Mar 20, 2018 14:19 |
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Oh Snap i really like your stuff so keep posting no other criticism edit: some haikus for world poetry day: Long past blind children Now adults living careful In masks and catsuits The wind still rushes Forests do not let me go Beauty fades with time Patterns in starlight Ripples in space, red dwarfs burning Galaxies dying Are there arcs in life? Hunger pangs, sadness strikes, death faces Newborns are rebirth Emotionally Numb, anxious, head pressured The pain is over I cannot see time But I put honey in tea Just to feel something If i could rewind I’d go back to the bronze age And leave mournful notes Fake chrysanthemums Are varnished by machine gods To keep sight pleasant take the moon fucked around with this message at 20:08 on Mar 21, 2018 |
# ? Mar 21, 2018 19:18 |
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Hi poetry thread I am happy you are healthy and happyquote:A Flower White I mean it's a super hard form to write in so I applaud the effort but a few things throw me off: There's some real purple stuff (wyrdest seer, earth strange, flowers white, I mean the latter is mega baroque and if you could reform it into white flowers it'd be stronger) but also a lot of actions are... coming off limp. 'protective as a warden' would be less limp as 'a protective warden' 'rot from sight' seems forced 'cause there's no looking anywhere in that stanza 'can she bring me flowers that are bleached white' is a bit clumso. "then" and "because" weaken a bit too. Last two kind of work a bit more for me. I mean I don't know poo poo about sonnets but that's what hits me. Also posted some poetry in the brand new Fiction Submission Thread and I'd super appreciate any poetry folk taking a look.
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# ? Mar 27, 2018 09:58 |
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Bowied the thunderdome interprompt about impatient, bad-tempered slaying your thighs are my focus Christ Right boy just thinks he’s (ranting) me I well (screaming) earfuls in rendezvous blocked mid breath (wishing) your hands dinner stepping together his almost face clear like a rifle too, red (thinking) a date would be nice a new town too muttering muttering muttering
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# ? Mar 27, 2018 14:56 |
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thanks for the crits. i always feel embarassed about this stuff 0.5 seconds after posting But that's probably the only way to get better. i attempted a villanelle today Metro Rising spires hid by smog Tbe cityscape over the ocean The concave fires the bright ruin These black rivers of curling smoke Break out, twisting around Rising spires hid by smog Synthetic shadows dance under yoke Anonymous lifetimes are not permitted in struct declarations The concave fires the bright ruin They fill the streets with the rotting to choke These are brave leaves swimming in fission Rising spires hid by smog Our subconscious faded into ashes, broke Into fragments. Hush and listen! The concave fires the bright ruin We stayed dreaming even when we woke. The coils vanishing is our mission Rising spires hid by smog The concave fires the bright ruin
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# ? Mar 27, 2018 20:34 |
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spectres of autism posted:thanks for the crits. i always feel embarassed about this stuff 0.5 seconds after posting But that's probably the only way to get better. Structurally it’s not really a villanelle (though by no means am I an expert) but there’s some interesting language here. I don’t know if you’ve got enough concrete ideas to get your message across, as I don’t quite know what you meant to say. Here’s one of mine for you to shred . sephiRoth IRA fucked around with this message at 02:41 on Apr 5, 2018 |
# ? Mar 27, 2018 21:04 |
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okay let me give critting that a shot. first stanza: cthonic is a good word. gonna assume zeus is chronus's oldest son. i am invited to eat sounds like an obvious line after the immortal banquet one. overall the first two lines are stronger than the last two. second stanza: ruddy flesh is a good phrase. im not sure how applicable it is but it sounds good so it's worth keeping in. im no expert on persephone but didnt she get to live on earth for six months of the year? some people see their parents less than that nowadays. its sad but maybe not grievous? third stanza: i don't like this one. too cliche romantic. i think if you invoke a you you should emphazie the theme with something creative. not unromantic necessarily but more non-sequitorilly. straight romance is boring. complicated relationships with unexpected phrasing is the way to go. also i dont think eating fruit has ever ascended anyone to godhood. when yknow adam and eve did it it had the Opposite effect. also who wouldnt want to be undying regardless of whoever's side you were on. fourth stanza: better. it continues an arc set up in the first stanza. also it implies this one is permanent. overall the strongest stanza in terms of continuity. fifth stanza: underworld kiss doesnt really impress me as a phrase. i like references i dont understand as long as they sound good. i have no idea who Phleghon is but from the stanza maybe he set the styx on fire? its probably a really cool reference if you get it. overall a unique effort, thanks for sharing reworked "Frost" based on criticism from this thread Ain't your veins hot, lovely I’m yours, carved into ice The sick honey of rust and decay I’m over it, kino Now just buzz mine, i'm okay I dove into static Drowned in noise Held in the haze Drifted between cold planets The starry nights and blazing days Just pick me up onscreen Back where we taped it A midnight raven screams fright Flies against white atoms Past each shadow and into the light take the moon fucked around with this message at 16:48 on Mar 29, 2018 |
# ? Mar 29, 2018 16:44 |
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Thank you for the crit! I had toyed with cutting the third stanza completely as it was the weakest. Your comment solidified that. For the record Persephones mother was really bummed out, which is why we have months of winter -> http://www.theoi.com/Khthonios/Persephone.html spectres of autism posted:
I think you’ve gone into using too much exotic, “evocative” language. Both of your poems suffer from a lack of concrete meaning. Try writing a poem where there’s no elaborate metaphor or language- go read a bunch of some of the more “traditional” poets like Whitman. Get a sense for writing what you want to say meaning-wise, and then you can go through and replace the plain language with more verisimilitude. Here is another of mine. I’m not happy with the end, as it feels a bit cliche :/ but that’s what came out, so there it is Burial My mother died in the spring, but father and I didn’t talk about it. I buried him today, not in the ground, like my mother, or in my heart, like my mother, but in the past, where no candles will be lit in remembrance.
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# ? Mar 29, 2018 19:46 |
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that's fair, and good advice. i'll try it your poem was nice also edit: feel ive been oversharing lately so ill try to apply all the criticism and post up when i fel i have something take the moon fucked around with this message at 00:50 on Mar 30, 2018 |
# ? Mar 29, 2018 21:48 |
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spectres of autism posted:that's fair, and good advice. i'll try it Eh gently caress that The threads mostly dead anyway- keep on rolling and I’ll post right back
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# ? Mar 30, 2018 02:27 |
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alright. i had a depressive attack and wrote this in response to your crit Taking L-Theanine to Marathon Anime I want to throw myself off floating things I want to cry again I’d rather shards of glass scrape the roof of my mouth Than watch this I’d coax out the best in me Use it for the worst Keep my eyes laced shut Rip my teeth out and throw them at birds I want to eat fish and choke on the bones An article about a happy schizo Crumpled and torn in my blue bin When my head is a mattress And my eyes are blinking slow I don’t know who I am anymore But I know I can sleep Why does everything have to be perfect For me to care take the moon fucked around with this message at 14:58 on Mar 30, 2018 |
# ? Mar 30, 2018 02:39 |
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spectres of autism posted:alright. i had a depressive attack and wrote this in response to your crit Much more concrete language, which I liked. I can get meaning from this poem (you hate anime?) but there’s still too much vagueness. I’ve thinking about posting a thread about a poetry writing guide I’ve been working through that has some good tips. Maybe you can participate if I get off my rear end?
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# ? Mar 30, 2018 20:21 |
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yeah for sure. by the way i'm editing all these as i go so don't think this is wasted criticism. its all greatly appreciated will post more soon
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# ? Mar 30, 2018 23:11 |
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I have zero knowledge of poetry but I like words alot. Anyway, this is recent. Critique away. I know a dear one with a chaos heart And mindless blind wolf at the door Presence of teeth is promise of fangs Life in this bordered and bordering wild Whistle in graveyards, run dry in deluge Hot breath on tendon, this fluttered heart High and low then snapped back to middle Life in this bordered and bordering wild
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# ? Apr 10, 2018 18:52 |
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Well, that was received well, so let's do it again. It doesn't matter what clothes I might wear We only see the dress we've made Apple-knowledged hogs in sorry repair, Faces float by in foggy parade I remember that table, that we set before And ate simple and lovely food I'll leave out the sweet, and tell tales of war What now rolls over me is where we once stood My darling, my darling, a softly held hand. I'll wear down your mountain and die on this land You meant it, I mean it, my voice now too rough Let's melt in the shade, honey, sing in the sun I'll drive though this desert, beyond far enough With broken leg stories that tell us to run
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# ? Apr 13, 2018 05:24 |
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I love so much about this.spectres of autism posted:
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# ? Apr 13, 2018 05:33 |
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PurdWerfect posted:Well, that was received well, so let's do it again. Your forced rhyme is awkward and your poem doesn’t make a lot of sense because of it. “Food” and “Stood” aren’t proper rhymes. Your rhyme scheme even breaks down in your “My darling... land” couplet- you have not rhymed like that in the rest of your poem so why do it here? Your imagery is all over the place and none of it is internally consistent.
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# ? Apr 13, 2018 18:50 |
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areyoucontagious posted:Your forced rhyme is awkward and your poem doesn’t make a lot of sense because of it. Thanks for this. It is a clumsy scheme and needs rewriting. As far as the imagery goes, there's two people who would consistently connect but to a larger audience, you're right. I'll work on it.
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# ? Apr 13, 2018 19:06 |
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PurdWerfect posted:Thanks for this. It is a clumsy scheme and needs rewriting. As far as the imagery goes, there's two people who would consistently connect but to a larger audience, you're right. I'll work on it. Come to the poetry workshop thread!
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# ? Apr 13, 2018 23:47 |
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I do better not rhyming. "The desert is for me" Every single star is naked, and cold, and free of self or other And then she grew sparse. Dried out harsh, wood and bones, the colors they were Creatures go dormant, after short gaudy moments of reckless beauty Forsake this thirst drawn on me by not slaking my own Lips cracked, dried salt cheeks, and rain once, some time ago, remembered Walk in together and fall out alone, cold beautiful stars
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# ? Apr 15, 2018 04:28 |
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PurdWerfect posted:I do better not rhyming. Sorry man but this is gibberish to me. Just read your second line out loud- the hanging “the colors they were” is infuriating. The lack of description of “she” is equally so. My biggest comment with this is that your attempts to be “poetic” - complex structure, overly flowery language - it all gets in the way. Your message is lost and I can’t get any meaning out of any of this. You’ve got some interesting phrases - “dried salt cheeks” stands out - but it needs a lot of work.
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# ? Apr 15, 2018 06:51 |
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Good lord, don't be infuriated.
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# ? Apr 15, 2018 16:23 |
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PurdWerfect posted:Good lord, don't be infuriated. Hyperbole but for real, your imagery is fine if it’s abstract or fanciful, tons of poets do it, and as long as your abstractions are written with distinct language it can ok. Your issue is that your abstractions detract from the poem. Try attempting something a little less metaphorical, a little more specific, and work your way back to the more “poetic” stuff.
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# ? Apr 15, 2018 16:38 |
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areyoucontagious posted:Hyperbole but for real, your imagery is fine if it’s abstract or fanciful, tons of poets do it, and as long as your abstractions are written with distinct language it can ok. Your issue is that your abstractions detract from the poem. Try attempting something a little less metaphorical, a little more specific, and work your way back to the more “poetic” stuff. Good advices. Thanks!
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# ? Apr 15, 2018 20:38 |
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took a break from the internet. thank you all for posting. Matte Wander through the dark Shine light underground Link arms for brightness Introspect by ash The mice slip past like lust Against slivers of art They’re forged together Bastions of fur Weave, twine red tracklight Loud voices smoking, broken I saw them interlaced Twisting in wind They rise up in parts Stand still for comfort Stand close, too pretty Stand apart, too hushed That’s when I knew The echo of tryst I found it in circles I watched it begin
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# ? Apr 17, 2018 20:00 |
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Tyrannosaurus posted:the darkness garments i have had this poem stuck in my head for a while now. Extremely Good
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# ? Apr 17, 2018 21:06 |
I've been trying an experiment: use a random word generator to give me a prompt, 1h, write a poem. So I came up with something silly and dumb that makes me smile: Hover My cat has begun to hover. This raises certain questions: Should I adjust the catflap? If she stays in, will I have to put stilts on her tray? She hovers in front of my face. The vet suggested iron supplements or rewriting fundamental physics. I think I'll just feed her instead.
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# ? Apr 17, 2018 23:22 |
lofi posted:I've been trying an experiment: use a random word generator to give me a prompt, 1h, write a poem. So I came up with something silly and dumb that makes me smile: I rather fancy this one
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# ? Apr 17, 2018 23:31 |
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lofi posted:I've been trying an experiment: use a random word generator to give me a prompt, 1h, write a poem. So I came up with something silly and dumb that makes me smile: I also dig it. The “stilts” line drags it down a bit, misty due to its length. Otherwise light and funny. Good work
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# ? Apr 18, 2018 02:04 |
Thanks! I think you're right about the stilts line, it is a bit clunky.
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# ? Apr 18, 2018 07:29 |
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lofi posted:Thanks! I think you're right about the stilts line, it is a bit clunky. Otherwise I think it’s very clever. Cat flaps made me laugh.
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# ? Apr 18, 2018 08:07 |
lofi posted:I've been trying an experiment: use a random word generator to give me a prompt, 1h, write a poem. So I came up with something silly and dumb that makes me smile: The second (bolded) use of 'hovers' here bugs me - I was expecting something subtler or something new, as the repetition of "hover" in a new construct that doesn't add much to the scene feels neutered to me. Is this thread also for longer works? I have a comedy/joke poem I wrote recently but it's ~120 lines which is a bit of a difference from what's here so far, so I don't want to presume. It's about dumb aussie men
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# ? Apr 18, 2018 08:25 |
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Sulla-Marius 88 posted:The second (bolded) use of 'hovers' here bugs me - I was expecting something subtler or something new, as the repetition of "hover" in a new construct that doesn't add much to the scene feels neutered to me.
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# ? Apr 18, 2018 14:08 |
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# ? Apr 19, 2024 04:02 |
True. Alright, this is "The Ballad of Easy John (the shortish tale of an Aussie male)": Testing, hello – is this thing on? I’d like to try out a brand new song. Have you heard the story of Easy John? Then let’s get started – it won’t take long. Easy John was just your regular gent: Ocker, improper, of vagueish intent, With rarely a punch that wasn’t well meant (Less malcontent and more non-event). He drank his four X, he worked as a sparkie, Didn’t hate blacks but joked about “darkies”. Triggered by hipsters, hypocritically sarky, Loudly too proud of his lion-shaped car keys. An everyday Aussie, plagued by the sheilas, Called nasty harassment “just puttin’ out feelers”. Loved nothing more than his uncle’s blue heelers, Thought jail was too good for potheads and dealers. Now let’s be honest, John was a fool, The life he led would embarrass a mule. You wish you could say: “John, don’t be a tool, In what messed up world would you be cool?” John hated his job, so he’s looking for more. He’s dreaming of heroes all covered in gore, Still stuck on the battles lost decades before So he hung up his pliers and walked out the door. And Easy John, Easy John, he said to himself: “The old ways aren’t working, you’ve backed the wrong horses, You’re too smart for tradework and too dumb for courses. Girls love a young soldier, I’ve reliable sources – It’s clear your future is in the armed forces. They’ll give you a gun, they’ll make you get fit, You’ll kill commies and pommies and make them submit To your every which whim, you’ll look like King poo poo, The Devil’s own Hell is your new army kit.” He enrolled the next day, all jibe and no anchor, To escape from a world that lauded the banker. He’d rather have lived on a lonely oil tanker Than suffer the shame of working for wankers. But the army was tough, they made him work hard, They gave him an apron, his bloodbath was lard, No war came with China, his dinner was charred, He didn’t storm beaches so much as stand guard. And Easy John, Easy John, he said to himself: “I’ve had it up to my absolute tits With this whole drat outfit of chicken-arse shits Instead of a gun they gave me these mitts I tell you what: I’m calling it quits.” Next chance he had, with no flair for tact, He stopped doing the work and was readily sacked. So John got his re-do, and in matter of fact, Still just as dumb as the very first act. So he’s bumming around, the weather is beaut, He’s got a few hundred bucks and a second-hand ute. But he knows that he’s lost, the whole point seems moot, The driver feels blameless so he’s blaming the route. And Easy John, Easy John, he said to himself: “Forget the career then, I’ll just settle down, I’ll find a cheap queen to polish my crown. She naturally can’t but I’ll still sleep around, As the only real man in a country-turned-clown.” But nothing worked out, no gambit, no trick, He called them all doll and that made the dolls sick, And of old Lady Luck – not a spit, not one lick, No-one succumbed when he laid it on thick. He felt like a weakling, total and utter, His friends took the piss, then back came his stutter, The c-word, b-word, mouth like a gutter, Couldn’t get girls with a face full of butter. Easy John, you gotta change your tone Or you’ll earn no soul to call your own. With mates like these you’re better alone From the spicks and the specks, the blown-off foam. John studied like mad, he inhaled the newspaper, Though mostly the sport (the rest boiled off like vapour), He started to feel like a shaker and shaper, And formed the idea for a brilliant caper. So Easy John, Easy John, he said to himself: “I should travel the world before I grow old, I find the girls here are just much too cold. I’m told the Aussie accent’s green and gold And Fortune favours a bloke who’s bold.” So John set sail for foreign shores For parties and sights he’d not seen before Surely far from home they’d all adore This rough-cut gem with a diamond core. The plan’s a success – John’s more than just smug, He’s got women in lines and he’s deep in the drug. He couldn’t care less ‘bout the kiss or the hug, He’s obsessed with that number: love gets a shrug. Night after night, he’s dressed to impress, He buys the girls drinks and won’t accept less Than total conquest, though tonight there’s some stress Til he spies the cute blonde in the skin-tight black dress. And she says to Easy John: “Hey there handsome, you look a bit tense. I could help you for a fair recompense. And if you want to try the lover’s pretense That’s just two hundred euros and zero more cents.” He’s tired, it’s late, this dive bar is dead, He takes out his wallet and takes her to bed. When she clears out he can’t clear from his head The unspoken fears in what she had said. And Easy John thought to himself: “I must’ve tamed enough prey to put the famous to shame, But do all other guys lay claim to the same? Or those tricky questions, like if they actually came? And how many of them still remember my name? I must have slept with a thousand or more, I would swear that’s enough to fill a Corps, But how can I go on keeping score, If nobody remembers me past that door?” Glazed eyes project a thousand-yard stare, self-reflection Evident in new-found despair: uncertain defection From a toxic direction; the long-awaited hard correction. But save the objection, John – growth feeds affection. Don’t you worry, John, unburden your mind In the end we’re of the same kind Arms outstretched, wandering blind, Clinging in fear to whatever we find. She’ll be right John, you’ll get through this fine, There’s riches within, just dig that mine. This seed of self-doubt is a positive sign: Your cancer of culture might turn out benign. not an autobiography
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# ? Apr 18, 2018 14:19 |