Guest zaphod Posted July 22, 2009 Share Posted July 22, 2009 hey guys recommend some poetry for me to read. post some poems. let's get sensitive. poetry Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
delet... Posted July 22, 2009 Share Posted July 22, 2009 no .. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest zaphod Posted July 22, 2009 Share Posted July 22, 2009 great post keep em coming Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest JohnTqs Posted July 22, 2009 Share Posted July 22, 2009 where the sidewalk ends fuck yeah! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
YEK Posted July 22, 2009 Share Posted July 22, 2009 just as i planned it, i hit the marker, the sharpie, a tag, to make you look longer the tag, a marking, so specialized but specific, it makes you wonder why most kids aren't already doing it. the lines so precise to give detail to matter the flow so individual it's like street laughter marking territory or just renaming it, the aim is to get your name attention and you most certainly will that, that and detention, or maybe worse, but hey you've got to be quick... quick and slick keep your wits but i stress in this spit keep at it. pick up the marker , design your idea and crystallize that tag with your own ideal and if knowledge and knowing is with your direction it's now part of the streets and the streets own perception. -by me Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest zaphod Posted July 22, 2009 Share Posted July 22, 2009 where the sidewalk ends fuck yeah! i just read a biography of shel silverstein. interesting guy. i'm digging rimbaud right now. i have a used copy of a book of his stuff and there's an inscription in the front that says "rimbaud motherfuckers! - kelly punk rock". got me pumped. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
lumpenprol Posted July 22, 2009 Share Posted July 22, 2009 rimbaud is cool cuz if anyone asks you can tell them you are reading the collected poetry of Rambo. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
chenGOD Posted July 22, 2009 Share Posted July 22, 2009 T.S. Eliot - The Wasteland, The Hollow Men, The Love SOng of Alfred J. Prufrock, The Journey of the Magi, and Four Quartets e.e. cummings - he wrote a lot of poems (around 2,900 according to wikipedia) so just grab a collection and dig in. Ezra Pound - The Cantos will blow your mind William Blake - Songs of Innocence and of Experience, Milton and Visions of the Daughters of Albion (and then you should read his prophetic books) Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest beatfanatic Posted July 22, 2009 Share Posted July 22, 2009 poetry is for teh gays Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest Mr Salads Posted July 22, 2009 Share Posted July 22, 2009 stop posting gay shit Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
oyster Posted July 22, 2009 Share Posted July 22, 2009 charles bukowski Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest viscosity Posted July 22, 2009 Share Posted July 22, 2009 Buffalo Bill's defunct who used to ride a watersmooth-silver stallion and break onetwothreefourfive pigeons justlikethat Jesus he was a handsome man and what I want to know is how do you like your blue-eyed boy Mister Death ee cummings Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest JohnTqs Posted July 22, 2009 Share Posted July 22, 2009 Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village, though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year. He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there's some mistake. The only other sound's the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake. The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep. -By Me Thanks Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Braintree Posted July 22, 2009 Share Posted July 22, 2009 an open letter: you've made my skin and heart tough like tree trunks stuck in earth you tethered my hands with words and indifference thank you thank you without hardship there is no progress the colors aren't as bright the darks aren't as dark and each day would be an insurmountable shade of gray thank you thank you Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Atop Posted July 22, 2009 Share Posted July 22, 2009 ME: The Time straightens a curve, taking on the visage of a naked snake, transversing time reality tunnels, we all look to the sun for answers and receive one reply, whilst begging for everything and taking nothing, learned travellers take time to stretch, pulling taffy time to a nil, stall, stop, energy equals matter speed of light squared, it can be neither created nor destroyed, is infinitude, circle beats the square........... lick my cock........ 1 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest nene multiple assgasms Posted July 22, 2009 Share Posted July 22, 2009 Villain get the money like curls They just trying to get a nut like squirrels in his mad world Land of milk and honey with the swirls Where reckless naked girls get necklaces and pearls Compliments of the town jeweler Left back now-schooler trying to sound cooler On the microphone known as the crown ruler Never lied to ma when we said we found the moolah Five-hundred something dollars laying right there in the street Huh, now let's try and get something to eat Then he turned four and started flowing to the poor That's about when he first started going raw Kept the 'dro in the drawer A rhyming klepto who couldn't go up in the store no more His life is like a folklore legend Why you so stiff? you need to smoke more brethren Insted of trying to riff with the broke war veteran Spliff made him swore he saw heaven he was seven Yup, you know it, growing up too fast Showing up to class with Moët in a flask He ask the teacher if he leave will he pass His girl is home alone he trying to get the If you want to sip get a paper water fountain glass How I'm 'posed to know where your mouth been last Hands so fast he can out-spin the Flash Known to smoke a whole mountain of hash to the ash Boom-bash leave the room with the stash Assume it's in a smash, Doom get the cash Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
bossman Posted July 22, 2009 Share Posted July 22, 2009 While this America settles in this mould of its vulgarity, heavily thickening to empire, and protest, only a bubble in the molten mass, pops and sighs out, and the mass hardens, I sadly smiling remember that the flower fades to make fruit, the fruit rots to make earth. Out of the mother; and through the spring exultances, ripeness and decadence; and home to the mother. You making haste haste on decay; not blameworthy; life is good, be it stubbornly long or suddenly a mortal splendor; meteors are not needed less than mountains: sunshine, perishing republic. But for my children, I would have them keep their distance from the thickening center; corruption never has been compulsory, when the cities lie at the monster's feet there are left mountains. And boys, be in nothing so moderate as in love of man, a clever servant, insufferable master. There is the trap that catches the noblest of spirits, that caught - they say - God, when he walked on the earth. ROBINSON JEFFERS word Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
chenGOD Posted July 22, 2009 Share Posted July 22, 2009 Buffalo Bill's defunct who used to ride a watersmooth-silver stallion and break onetwothreefourfive pigeons justlikethat Jesus he was a handsome man and what I want to know is how do you like your blue-eyed boy Mister Death ee cummings The board formatting fucked that....just link to this: If anyone liked house ofleaves, you'll love e.e. cummings... Also MF DOOM muthafuck yes. Tripping off the beat kinda, dripping off the meat grinder Heat niner, pimping, stripping, soft street minor China was a neat signer, trouble with the script digits Double dip/bubble lips, sorrow less midget Borderline schizoid, sort of fine tits tho Pour the wine hold the grind, quarter to nine, lets go Ever since ten eleven, glad she met a brethren Then his last style seven alligator, seven at the gates of heaven Knocking, no answer, slow dancer, hopeless romancer, dopest flow stanzas Yes, no Villain, Metal Face the death stroke Guest shows, still incredible in escrow Just say hoe, I will taste the yayo, Wild West style fest, y'all best to lay low Hey bro, Day Glo, set the bet, pay dough Before the cheddar get away, you best to get Maaco The worst haters God on perpetrated are favors Demonstrated in the perforated Rod Lavers ... In all quad flavors, large savers Still back in the game like Jack Lalanne think you know the name, don't rack your brain on a fast track to half insane Either in a slow beat or that of speed or wrath of Kane Laughter, pain Doom's songs lit, in the booth, with the best host Doing bong hits, on the roof, in the west coast He's at it again Mad at the pen Glad that we win a tad fat in a bad hat for men Grind the cinnamon, Manhattan warmongers You can find the Villain in satin congas The vans screeches The old man preaches About the gold sand beaches The cold hand reaches For the old tan ellesse's ... Jesus Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
triachus Posted July 22, 2009 Share Posted July 22, 2009 beetles, under my carpet, under my feet they come out at night - Richard David James II Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
chenGOD Posted July 22, 2009 Share Posted July 22, 2009 in.the.heat Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest Iain C Posted July 22, 2009 Share Posted July 22, 2009 Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village, though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year. He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there's some mistake. The only other sound's the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake. The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep. -By Me Thanks It's kind of an obvious choice but I do love this poem. What sort of things are you into, Zaphod? I've been coming back to Phillip Larkin lately, his collected works should be on every poetry-lover's bookshelf. Whoever posted Cummins has the right idea as well. But my all-time favourite poet is Dylan Thomas. This one's about bitches. When I was a windy boy and a bit And the black spit of the chapel fold, (Sighed the old ram rod, dying of women), I tiptoed shy in the gooseberry wood, The rude owl cried like a tell-tale tit, I skipped in a blush as the big girls rolled Nine-pin down on donkey's common, And on seesaw sunday nights I wooed Whoever I would with my wicked eyes, The whole of the moon I could love and leave All the green leaved little weddings' wives In the coal black bush and let them grieve. When I was a gusty man and a half And the black beast of the beetles' pews (Sighed the old ram rod, dying of bitches), Not a boy and a bit in the wick- Dipping moon and drunk as a new dropped calf, I whistled all night in the twisted flues, Midwives grew in the midnight ditches, And the sizzling sheets of the town cried, Quick!- Whenever I dove in a breast high shoal, Wherever I ramped in the clover quilts, Whatsoever I did in the coal- Black night, I left my quivering prints. When I was a man you could call a man And the black cross of the holy house, (Sighed the old ram rod, dying of welcome), Brandy and ripe in my bright, bass prime, No springtailed tom in the red hot town With every simmering woman his mouse But a hillocky bull in the swelter Of summer come in his great good time To the sultry, biding herds, I said, Oh, time enough when the blood runs cold, And I lie down but to sleep in bed, For my sulking, skulking, coal black soul! When I was half the man I was And serve me right as the preachers warn, (Sighed the old ram rod, dying of downfall), No flailing calf or cat in a flame Or hickory bull in milky grass But a black sheep with a crumpled horn, At last the soul from its foul mousehole Slunk pouting out when the limp time came; And I gave my soul a blind, slashed eye, Gristle and rind, and a roarers' life, And I shoved it into the coal black sky To find a woman's soul for a wife. Now I am a man no more no more And a black reward for a roaring life, (Sighed the old ram rod, dying of strangers), Tidy and cursed in my dove cooed room I lie down thin and hear the good bells jaw-- For, oh, my soul found a sunday wife In the coal black sky and she bore angels! Harpies around me out of her womb! Chastity prays for me, piety sings, Innocence sweetens my last black breath, Modesty hides my thighs in her wings, And all the deadly virtues plague my death! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Root5 Posted July 22, 2009 Share Posted July 22, 2009 I don't usually like poetry. Most of my favourite poetry can be found in Calvin and Hobbes. However, I came across was is probably the ass-kickingest poem out there, and it's called Satire Against Reason And Mankind by John Wilmot Earl of Rochester. http://www.social-exclusion-housing.com/satire-against-reason-and-mankind.html Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Dan C Posted July 22, 2009 Share Posted July 22, 2009 http://sprayberry.tripod.com/poems/howl.txt Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
chim Posted July 22, 2009 Share Posted July 22, 2009 an open letter: you've made my skin and heart tough like tree trunks stuck in earth you tethered my hands with words and indifference thank you thank you without hardship there is no progress the colors aren't as bright the darks aren't as dark and each day would be an insurmountable shade of gray thank you thank you good one Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
perunamuusi Posted July 22, 2009 Share Posted July 22, 2009 scooby dooby doo done a poo he done it shaggy's slipper shaggy put it on what a pong it made him shake and shiver Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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