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Poetry and Literature Corner
Poetry and Literature Corner

Welcome to the Poetry and Literature Corner!
This is a board for all kinds of discussions about poetry and other kinds of written works. You can talk about works from any background and epoch, share your own OC, discuss techniques and stylistic elements, and more.
  1. No spamming, no off-topic posts. Try to put effort and thought behind your contributions.
  2. While poetry from all languages is allowed, discussions should be in English.
  3. Please use correct spelling and grammar.
  4. This board is SFW. Posting NSFW content is not permitted.

Robert Burns (2)

1 Name: Anonymous : 2022-07-26 21:29 ID:4exMrW7g [Del]

This thread is dedicated to the life and works of Robert Burns, an 18th century lyricist who is considered to be the national poet of Scotland.
He lived from 1759 to 1796 and died at only 37 years old.
In his youth, Burns lived in poverty and spent most of his time working hard on his father's farm. Burns didn't regularly go to school; most of his education came from his father, William Burnes, who died in 1784.
The family spent years moving from farm to farm. Seeing his father, a highly able man, always beaten down and never managing to improve the family's circumstances, turned Burns rebellious against the existing social order of his time. His bitterness and opposition against the status quo also included his negative attitude to Calvinism, the dominant branch of the Christian church in Scotland at the time, which he viewed as hypocritical and bigoted.
Burns had always spent most of his free time writing songs and poems, and his first major volume, Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect, was published in 1786. His work was a success among all classes of Scottish society.
He became a member of the Freemasons in 1781, and had many illicit relationships with women in his lifetime, producing several illegitimate children.
The latter part of his life was marked by the worsening of his health. From his time doing farm work, Burns suffered from heart problems and a rheumatic condition that led to his early death in July of 1796.
Burns was a man of intellect, whose legacy lies in becoming a central figure and an idol of Scottish culture.

2 Name: Anonymous : 2022-07-26 21:29 ID:4exMrW7g [Del]

The sun he is sunk in the west,
All creatures retired to rest,
While here I sit, all sore beset,
With sorrow, grief, and woe:
And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!

The prosperous man is asleep,
Nor hears how the whirlwinds sweep;
But Misery and I must watch
The surly tempest blow:
And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!

There lies the dear partner of my breast;
Her cares for a moment at rest:
Must I see thee, my youthful pride,
Thus brought so very low!
And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!

There lie my sweet babies in her arms;
No anxious fear their little hearts alarms;
But for their sake my heart does ache,
With many a bitter throe:
And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!

I once was by Fortune carest:
I once could relieve the distrest:
Now life's poor support, hardly earn'd
My fate will scarce bestow:
And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!

No comfort, no comfort I have!
How welcome to me were the grave!
But then my wife and children dear--
O, wither would they go!
And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!

O whither, O whither shall I turn!
All friendless, forsaken, forlorn!
For, in this world, Rest or Peace
I never more shall know!
And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!

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The Genius of the Crowd - Charles Bukowski (1)

1 Name: Anonymous : 2022-07-26 21:24 ID:8ARUWm2G [Del]

there is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average
human being to supply any given army on any given day

and the best at murder are those who preach against it
and the best at hate are those who preach love
and the best at war finally are those who preach peace

those who preach god, need god
those who preach peace do not have peace
those who preach peace do not have love

beware the preachers
beware the knowers
beware those who are always reading books
beware those who either detest poverty
or are proud of it
beware those quick to praise
for they need praise in return
beware those who are quick to censor
they are afraid of what they do not know
beware those who seek constant crowds for
they are nothing alone
beware the average man the average woman
beware their love, their love is average
seeks average

but there is genius in their hatred
there is enough genius in their hatred to kill you
to kill anybody
not wanting solitude
not understanding solitude
they will attempt to destroy anything
that differs from their own
not being able to create art
they will not understand art
they will consider their failure as creators
only as a failure of the world
not being able to love fully
they will believe your love incomplete
and then they will hate you
and their hatred will be perfect

like a shining diamond
like a knife
like a mountain

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Lyrics (2)

1 Name: Anonymous : 2022-07-26 21:22 ID:kHIsBOGt [Del]

Jennifer wrestled her friend playfully to the ground
in front of the snow cone stand and began licking at the
girls eyeballs, as if they were sugar cubes. Their
bodies convulsed and flailed with an almost seizure
like intensity. At times their pale limbs seeming to
shift back and forth from one torso to the other. A
crowd gathered almost immediately to watch these two
girls tie and untie their bodies like a pair of
pit-vipers. They were confused, or concerned, or
shocked, or aroused, or all of the above. But no-one
dared interfere with the performance. Jennifer's long
ashen hair hung down concealing the girls face like a
curtain around a hospital bed. No one had any idea
that the girls eyes were revolving under her ruby
tongue. "This is disgusting, it's pornography"
exclaimed a pasty slug-like woman in a fur coat,
vanilla ice-cream smeared across her double chin like
a money shot. Countered a balding professor type in his
mid-forties, his left hand stuffed crassly down the
front of his pants "No, no, no. This is beautiful,
this is art."
Pig Destroyer - Jennifer

2 Name: Anonymous : 2022-07-26 21:22 ID:kHIsBOGt [Del]

Sunday is gloomy,
My hours are slumberless
Dearest the shadows
I live with are numberless
Little white flowers
Will never awaken you
Not where the black coach of
Sorrow has taken you
Angels have no thought
Of ever returning you,
Would they be angry
If I thought of joining you?

Gloomy Sunday

Gloomy is Sunday,
With shadows I spend it all
My heart and I
Have decided to end it all
Soon there'll be candles
And prayers that are sad I know
Let them not weep
Let them know that I'm glad to go
Death is no dream
For in death I'm caressing you
With the last breath of my soul
I'll be blessing you

Gloomy Sunday

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the (1)

1 Name: Anonymous : 2022-07-26 20:01 ID:hDRxv9JX [Del]

the boring twenties
the nicest man in the world
ape mode
american violence
cash & carry
like riding a bike
vitamins, herbs, and supplements
fake news
power point presentations
success is a state of mind
coffee shop assistant
business travel
cities of the future
This might surprise you!
click here
your profile pic
twitter flashmob
literally no one
smoke alarm
internet memes
macaroni and cheese
eccentric puritan
chinese food
chinese food, again
the worst part about looking at tanning bed reviews online
please sir, can you spare some change?
new product
pumpkin spice
enter the mind of Hitler
restaurant etiquette
chinese moon
building relationships with people I don't actually like
without a licence
try not to make people sad
new car smell
go ride a fat bike

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