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/lit/ - Literature / Fanfic / Poetry

M-my hands are w-writing on their own~!
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File: 1704202861519.jpg (12.98 KB, 250x234, Konata.jpg)

 No.992

What is some advice or ways I can improve as an amateur poet?(written avlot of Shakespearean sonnets, one Italian styled one, a few haikus and Tankas, one acrostic, limerick, and villanelle) at least quality wise

 No.993

>>992
read rilke

 No.994

File: 1704269211877.png (3.24 KB, 560x352, Frog love.png)

>>992
Post a few so we know what we're working with

 No.995

>>994
ok, here's 3 recent ones(haven't touched poetry for a few months)
Blank Canvas:
Finally a place for my dreams to fit

A close acquaintance is to humbly thank

For the very reason here do I sit

An ancient unopened canvas still blank

Methodic blueprints I think and ponder

As the beloved canvas starts to age

Stuck here, mind forced to endlessly wander

Suddenly in a melancholic cage

Sorrow and anxiety on the rise

Mental lines soon shifting ugly and bent

As creativity’s pool rapidly dries

Passion and energy already spent

Like a cold rainy day bike left to rust

A lone canvas painted with only dust
2.coffee:
Darker than an ebony moonless night

I asked for a drink most sweet and frothy

With a taste and temperature that bite

Receiving, but a cup of black coffee

I tried to ask for some cream politely

But the rugged barista merely hissed

Then I tried to ask a bit more kindly

But was rudely threatened by their gnarled fist

My hopes for a soothing midnight latte waned

Sipping from the truculent man’s dark drink

Scolding heat caused my soft tongue to be pained

Causing me to reflect on life and think

Memories rising in my mind so fond

I must keep searching for more precious bonds
3.Puppet
A vast, wretched plain of infinite stones

Roam crude creatures of the faceless sea

Abyss of despair deep within my bones

Choosing to see only their perceived me

Wasn’t taught anything of patience or love

One law accepted of heart: dog eat dog

Watched the pointless butchering of the Dove

Enlightenment is cast into the fog

Rules strongly hammered and forced to follow

Unable to break free of my own strings

Left apathetic, alone, and hollow

Summoned by a demented king’s loud ring

Hope I try to find in the dark, now blind

As the cruel scarlet strings tightly bind

 No.1022

File: 1713893308690.jpeg (137.49 KB, 733x600, image.jpeg)

>>992
Read about sympoiesis and Ursula K Le Guin's poetry in Arts of Living on a Damaged Planet



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