My friend Jenny recommended some poetry by Ishle Park to me, and I have to admit I'm impressed with her work. Beautiful imagery....
Ishle Park - samples of her poetry
Ishle Park - samples of her poetry
Most recent poem you've read?
- Thread starter imported_Tomato
- Start date
DrPizza
Administrator Elite Member Goat Whisperer
Most recent would have been something shoved down my throat in prof chat or someplace by a student looking for an opinion... Favorite is still Jabberwocky
Aside from the Haiku thread I haven't read much since college, except when included in fiction (SF/fantasy author LE Modesitt likes to do this).
An old favorite that gets better as I age
: Tennyson - Ulysses
An old favorite that gets better as I age
: Tennyson - UlyssesI hate poetry
Wait a minute... from that link you gave...
[/quote]
Pussy
by Ishle Yi Park
Why is my pussy feeling like this?
Why is it pounding and pulsing so strong
I have to sit squeezing my thighs together silently on this F train,
legs crossed, calmly writing, sublime Asian girl with chaos thundering
between her legs, like some drum, some strange heartbeat,
some pounding echo through dark caverns that is looking for a call
and response with one great-shaped dick?Aigu, this
pain is unbearable; it?s eating through my underwear
while the two whitegirls sitting next to me talk about opera
? la Traviata ? "I only saw it once, but like, omigod, I cried"
? meanwhile my pussy is slowly chewing its way
through the Express leggings, is crawling and sliding along
the dirty train floor like a giant hungry snail
looking for some worthy dick. A dick that is noble, handsome,
with character; a dick that is thick as a can of Ultra-Vive hairspray
and long enough to fill but not to hurt the cervix, a dick
that is no more than 45% tilted towards any angle, a circumcised
dick with a cute little mouth that burps please and thank you
and has a round shiny head like Michael Jordan, a dick without pimples,
moles, tattoos or Mikhail Gorbechav spotmarks, a dick
that is attached to a nice-looking man with extremely dexterous hands
and artistic, skilled fingers that are clipped and cleaned and well-
shaped. I?m not even asking for brains or intelligence
or political correctness, just a dick that knows how to do its job
and do it right.
[/quote]
What the FVCK is that????!!! THIS is poetry!?! It keeps going on too!
Holy hell I hate poetry... this woman is an idiot. This isn't poetry, nor is it beautiful... it's just plain stupid!
Here's the test... if I don't get banned, we can consider this 'art'.
Wait a minute... from that link you gave...
[/quote]
Pussy
by Ishle Yi Park
Why is my pussy feeling like this?
Why is it pounding and pulsing so strong
I have to sit squeezing my thighs together silently on this F train,
legs crossed, calmly writing, sublime Asian girl with chaos thundering
between her legs, like some drum, some strange heartbeat,
some pounding echo through dark caverns that is looking for a call
and response with one great-shaped dick?Aigu, this
pain is unbearable; it?s eating through my underwear
while the two whitegirls sitting next to me talk about opera
? la Traviata ? "I only saw it once, but like, omigod, I cried"
? meanwhile my pussy is slowly chewing its way
through the Express leggings, is crawling and sliding along
the dirty train floor like a giant hungry snail
looking for some worthy dick. A dick that is noble, handsome,
with character; a dick that is thick as a can of Ultra-Vive hairspray
and long enough to fill but not to hurt the cervix, a dick
that is no more than 45% tilted towards any angle, a circumcised
dick with a cute little mouth that burps please and thank you
and has a round shiny head like Michael Jordan, a dick without pimples,
moles, tattoos or Mikhail Gorbechav spotmarks, a dick
that is attached to a nice-looking man with extremely dexterous hands
and artistic, skilled fingers that are clipped and cleaned and well-
shaped. I?m not even asking for brains or intelligence
or political correctness, just a dick that knows how to do its job
and do it right.
[/quote]
What the FVCK is that????!!! THIS is poetry!?! It keeps going on too!
Holy hell I hate poetry... this woman is an idiot. This isn't poetry, nor is it beautiful... it's just plain stupid!
Here's the test... if I don't get banned, we can consider this 'art'.
What I read last is irrelevant. I read a lot of poetry, and most of it sucks.
Here's one of my favorites: http://honors.saintleo.edu/durette/eng122/original.php?work=rilke_hours_I_3 (I read it for a second-semester college English class.)
Here's one of my favorites: http://honors.saintleo.edu/durette/eng122/original.php?work=rilke_hours_I_3 (I read it for a second-semester college English class.)
GTaudiophile
Lifer
- Oct 24, 2000
- 29,767
- 33
- 81
My favorite peom?
High Flight
Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds ? and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of ? wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long, delirious burning blue
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew.
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
-John Gillespie Magee, Jr.
High Flight
Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds ? and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of ? wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long, delirious burning blue
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew.
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
-John Gillespie Magee, Jr.
so you hate song lyrics too, I suppose? I guess you haven't found the right poetry, yet, I suppose. I thought I hated it too until I read Shakespeare's Macbeth:
Doubtful it stood,
As two spent swimmers that do cling together
And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald-
Worthy to be a rebel, for to that
The multiplying villainies of nature
Do swarm upon him -from the Western Isles
Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied;
And Fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling,
Show'd like a rebel's whore. But all's too weak;
For brave Macbeth -well he deserves that name-
Disdaining Fortune, with his brandish'd steel,
Which smoked with bloody execution,
Like Valor's minion carved out his passage
Till he faced the slave,
Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him,
Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps,
And fix'd his head upon our battlements.
from Gene Weingarten's The Hypochondriac's Guide to Life. And Death
"The Greatest Hypochondriac of All Time, however, was the American poet Sara Teasdale:
Sara was a woman of heroic gloom
Anguish oozed from her tortured womb.
O Stygian depths, O life, you accursed vip'rous crutch!
(That's what all her poems sound like, pretty much)"
"The Greatest Hypochondriac of All Time, however, was the American poet Sara Teasdale:
Sara was a woman of heroic gloom
Anguish oozed from her tortured womb.
O Stygian depths, O life, you accursed vip'rous crutch!
(That's what all her poems sound like, pretty much)"
Anubis
No Lifer
Yay, the term Stygian is so wonderful.
I did a poem called Stygian fields, it's such a great image.
Yay for the Greeks!
Maybe it's a metaphor for the way she's feeling, she has no love in her and wishes to find someone. Someone to love, to spend the rest of her life with...
that or she's just horny.
POEM :
Fishy, fishy. bite.
Your mother said you might.
Your father said he didn't care.
So, Fishy, fishy, bite.
or something like that, Damn coffee mugs...
I'd rather take it literally, because how cliche of a metaphor can you get?
Dezign... why the rollign eyes? You think that poem is deep?
alkemyst
No Lifer
- Feb 13, 2001
- 83,769
- 19
- 81
lately macbaine I think you are on a quest to flame everyone on AT.
Luckily the majority here know who the real idiots are
My poems haven't been writing much lately
CubicZirconia
Diamond Member
- Nov 24, 2001
- 5,193
- 0
- 71
That would be Edgar Allan Poe, poetry. I had to read it for some class. I can't say I'm a big fan of poetry though.
The Second Coming - W.B. Yeats (English assignment on the first day of school)
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all convictions, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all convictions, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
Originally posted by: alkemyst
lately macbaine I think you are on a quest to flame everyone on AT.
Luckily the majority here know who the real idiots are
My poems haven't been writing much lately
I'm on fiiirreee baby! And you're gonna get burrrrrrrrnnnnnnned!
TRENDING THREADS
-
Discussion Zen 5 Speculation (EPYC Turin and Strix Point/Granite Ridge - Ryzen 9000)- Started by DisEnchantment
- Replies: 25K
-
Discussion Intel Meteor, Arrow, Lunar & Panther Lakes + WCL Discussion Threads
- Started by Tigerick
- Replies: 23K
-
Discussion Intel current and future Lakes & Rapids thread- Started by TheF34RChannel
- Replies: 23K
-
-
Facebook
Twitter