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pennyroyalty

peotry thread

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i really think most poetry post 1960 is just trying to describe movies - maybe poetry before 1960 was trying to describe music? i much prefer post 1960

 

 

 

 

this is almost certainly terrible

 

 

New forms of permanent annoyance

on sale now

at my shop

roll up

roll up

my face is exploding

live

im biting the toenails of a dream I’m talking to

passport photos

of mice

bad equations I’m

a nice guy in an unfortunate mood I’m

a wave of goodbye in an ocean of

hello how are you excellent so so so so good do you want

a coffee

this coffee

suicide is an afternoon activity haven’t you heard this month

has been interesting so far at least

wait until 2022

or 2025

with drones above us it will feel

i dont know

music will already be dead

we will just float up gently and join it 

 

 

 

in terms of whether this poem makes sense, i do actually bite my toenails. i told my gf this and i dont think ive ever done anything which made her happier than telling her this 

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bit better

 

 

to have a wife

to have a face

to make jokes primarily for under 18s

but no

instead an old analogue radio in the middle of the sea saying hi to itself

in the language of no I won’t

ever do that

i’m limbless seaweed sometimes a codfish

pokes me

heading to America

I'm a chocoale bar in deep storage

frozen for some

tragic museum 

I'm a design for a new shoe which imprints hello

everywhere with one foot

goodbye with the other

I'm the tiny little boy who becomes aware of language for the first time

when following the man in those boots

I’m the soft rain

that wipes it away

oh god thank fuck 

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total autobiography

 

 

 

Uh

 

A sidewaysonness

Generic-specific Polish

Spazzwank

Comes out of the stereo like

Spring water

The girl beside you wants to know where she is

The squirrel from yesterday

Is back

Say that, or even better

A vast silence

The size of Belgium

we’re in the cathedral in Bruges

uh

A soft wind says your name to a

Larger one, on the forecast

At least, either trust the BBC

Or shoot yourself

The hurricane keeps turning

My friend, my friend, my friend 

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ah thanks.

 

hm, before there wasn't an uh, and the wind kind of followed from the cathedral, (nothing is windy like a cathedral) but then after i finished even next day or smth i was feeling bad decided to put an uh in the middle and title it uh but maybe title will be enough, not sure!

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The dogs of time

Squat on my face.

To be so bored and so happy!

The great wall of china between

What you are and do

Rises with age:

Sleep at the lookout posts

And look – it’s what you’re for!

But remember to sprinkle

The seeds of action

Sometimes, on Christmas,

On your long days off – look into faces

In addition to distance

 

 

 

also 

 

 

Wingbeats as the ferry

Slops off. The sea on the beach,

Shjdsssssssssssssjhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkssssssssssssssssssssssjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj

language rolled up like

A travel blanket – but

The air above us, fat with past

Loves, what you did, what

You won’t do again. Autumn.

I would say something,

If not

For all these things.  

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trigger warning suicide 

 

 

 

Suicide by spoon suicide from

Sudden table gesture suicide inside

Shed green flames suicide

By genetics by

dad by

Instinct by

Urge to completion by underhand

Means suicide by

German language

Text message suicide by

The possibility of

Survival, suicide by communism

Suicide by hand

Suicide by

Experimentation yesterday’s

Headlines high wind

Speeds ocean

Dancing little walk in

A wood shoeless as the day

Suicide by four

identical

Girlfriends suicide by

mortgage, prettiest ever

Garden Greek island cruise ship

Suicide by proto-metal

Suicide by

Lack of head

“accident”

Pop music in reverse low

Bit rate

Suicide by sheer

Radical distance

Warm bath forever

 

Suicide by well thought out conscious decision. 

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so

 

 

 

 

The word mouth has to do with the end of it,

The sliced up like an onion

Finality of it, that doesn’t interest itself

In you, later, the hill

A muffin in the light,

Forgetting. Steering yourself

Nouslessly about in the soft

Givenness of whatever

Though so particular little

Hour. Christ! I came for a reason

But the marble just rises and rises. 

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i like that one! is nouslessly adopted from the french word ? or ''When you imbibe dry land events flow al government agencysy daub which you cope a crap no master and shoot megabucks and medication idols, at nonpareil while on the calculate of it immortal, nouslessly accept to pubic louse or drugs? '' - https://dissertation---help.blogspot.nl/2016/10/give-in-without-giving-up.html (a bot journal)

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^"prison guard saddled to a whipped horse newly burdened with a bound and prostrated weight from behind"  :o

 

Here's something I wrote about anxiety on the spot

 

I cannot for the life of me
figure out what is wrong
when images cloak my mind and
casts iron night on my soul,
but there is no sleep tonight.
The early hour never comes.
The mind never rests. 
It works & works & works & works &
I'm not tired yet but
my heart languors in this heavy dark
like a coat
soaked
in rain. 

 

 

it's not very good because I am not good at poetry 

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At first I thought that was the laughing smiley and was like, oh god the humiliation. But now that you quoted it, it still seems ridiculous like saddled, burdered, bound.  No

 

I like the imagery of the coat soaked in rain it's pretty nice : ) If I saw it I'd like to film a coat on the ground in the rain for half a minute. 

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