LifeFuel Poetry mega thread

[Descartes]

I want to start with a poem by Edgar Allan Poe which I'm pretty sure most of you already know, it's called ''Alone''. I've always related to this poem on a deep level and I think many incels here can relate too.

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were -- I have not seen
As others saw -- I could not bring
My passions from a common spring --
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow -- I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone --
And all I lov'd -- I lov'd alone --
Then -- in my childhood -- in the dawn
Of a most stormy life -- was drawn
From ev'ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still --
From the torrent, or the fountain --
From the red cliff of the mountain --
From the sun that 'round me roll'd
In its autumn tint of gold --
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass'd me flying by --
From the thunder, and the storm --
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view --

 

[startcel]

Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
And as I climb into an empty bed
Oh well. Enough said.
I know it's over - still I cling
I don't know where else I can go
Oh...
Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
See, the sea wants to take me
The knife wants to slit me
Do you think you can help me?
Sad veiled bride, please be happy
Handsome groom, give her room
Loud, loutish lover, treat her kindly
(Though she needs you
More than she loves you)
And I know it's over - still I cling
I don't know where else I can go
Over and over and over and over
Over and over, la...

 

[Descartes]

Ophelia, by Arthur Rimbaud:

On the calm black wave where the stars are sleeping
the white Ophelia floats like a great lily.
Floats very slowly, lying in her long veils…
--Far off in the woods there are hunters’ calls.

It’s already more than a thousand years that sad Ophelia
passes, a white phantom, on the long black river;
More than a thousand years that her gentle craziness
murmurs her romantic story to the evening breeze.

The wind kisses her breasts and arranges her great veils,
cradled softly by the waves, in a halo around her;
the shivering willows weep on her shoulder,
the reeds bend above her wide dreaming forehead.

The rumpled lotuses sigh around her;
she awakes sometimes, in a sleeping alder,
some nest from which a little shiver of wing escapes:
--a mysterious chant falls from the golden stars.

O pale Ophelia! beautiful as snow!
Yes you died, child, carried away by a river!
--It’s that the winds coming down from the mountains of Norway
talked to you quietly of bitter freedom;

it’s that a gust, twisting your long hair,
carried strange sounds to your dreaming mind;
your heart heard the singing of nature
in the wails of the tree and the sighs of the nights;

It’s that the voice of the crazy seas, immense groan,
broke your child’s breast, too human and too sweet;
it’s that one morning in April, a handsome pale cavalier,
a poor fool, sat mute at your knees!

Heaven! Love! Freedom! What a dream, O poor foolish girl!
You melted into him like a snow in the fire:
Your great visions strangled your words
--and terrible infinity appalled your blue eye!

--And the poet says that by starlight
you come looking at night for the flowers you gather,
and that he saw on the water, lying in her long veils,
the white Ophelia floating like a great lily.

 

[startcel]

I smoke angel dust
I dont give a fuck
Steal an armored truck
See a crowd
I'm speeding up
I dont feel no love
But I feel the drugs
Crash the whip into the precinct
And get filled with slugs
I just wanna kill so many fuckin' people
Demon up inside my brain
It make me do evil
This the grand finale bitch
Won't be no sequel
Ride my dick
I cum inside
While I do a homicide

Runnin' through these hoes like I'm Alek Minassian
Hoppin' in the whip and I'm motherfuckin' crashin' it
Up over the curb like I'm Alek Minassian
Hoes suck my dick while I run over pedestrians (2x)

 

[Descartes]

I smoke angel dust

It's fine to post song lyrics but please state it so everyone knows.

 

[Vermilioncore]

16th and 17th century poets were based and told things how they truly are. Plus, almost all were men. Now women want to write poetry but they suck at it. Cucked world

 

[startcel]

It's fine to post song lyrics but please state it so everyone knows.

RUNNIN' THROUGH THESE HOES LIKE I'M ALEK MINASSIAN

HOPPIN' IN THE WHIP AND I'M MOTHERFUCKIN' CRASHIN' IT

UP OVER THE CURB LIKE I'M ALEK MINASSIAN

HOES SUCK MY DICK WHILE I RUN OVER PEDESTRIANS

 

[IamJacksBrokenHeart]

roses are red
i feel like truman
I want to have sex
with female human

 

[Descartes]

16th and 17th century poets were based and told things how they truly are. Plus, almost all were men. Now women want to write poetry but they suck at it. Cucked world

Please don't compare them with modern roasties, there were (few of course) marvellous female poets and they shouldn't be the object of our hate

 

[Vermilioncore]

Please don't compare them with modern roasties, there were (few of course) marvellous female poets and they shouldn't be the object of our hate

I agree, poets (even a few women ones) of the olden golden days were good. Today everything is cucked and poetry is affiliated with libs and SJWs and muh lgbt wymyn rights teehee

 

[Descartes]

I agree, poets (even a few women ones) of the olden golden days were good. Today everything is cucked and poetry is affiliated with libs and SJWs and muh lgbt wymyn rights teehee

Yes, some great examples are Mary Shelley, Alejandra Pizarnik and Sappho

 

[Vermilioncore]

Yes, some great examples are Mary Shelley, Alejandra Pizarnik and Sappho

Yeah too bad they fucked Chads too though

 

[BrettyBoy]

Not even the title.

 

[Newbie17]

When We Two Parted by George Byron

When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow-
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame;
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shrudder comes o'er me-
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee so well-
Long, long I shall rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met-
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee? -
With silence and tears.

 

[Newbie17]

Not even the title.

Ignores me. XD

 

[Descartes]

When We Two Parted by George Byron

When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow-
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame;
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shrudder comes o'er me-
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee so well-
Long, long I shall rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met-
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee? -
With silence and tears.

Lord Byron was a genius

 

[Weston404]

Fuck a Jew
Jews screw you
Jews have hook noses
and they look good in ovens!

I have a Jewish lampshade
that tried to screw over me,
It claimed it was a feminist
looking for equality.

 

[Newbie17]

Lord Byron was a genius

He was but also a Chad ngl. Had tons of women in his lifetime and died at like 35? I think so.

 

[lightskin2thousand0]

A nigga right here can’t get they dick wet
from the beginning that shit was set

 

[Descartes]

He was but also a Chad ngl. Had tons of women in his lifetime and died at like 35? I think so.

With his face he was a gigachad, at least to me, he looked like a Greek statue.

 

[Newbie17]

A Poison Tree by William Blake

I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I watered it in fears,
Night and morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine.
And he knew that it was mine,

And into my garden stole
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

 

[Descartes]

A Poison Tree by William Blake

I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I watered it in fears,
Night and morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine.
And he knew that it was mine,

And into my garden stole
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

That is one of my favourite poems as well, thank you very much for posting

 

[Newbie17]

That is one of my favourite poems as well, thank you very much for posting

No problem, bro, I was quite obsessed with literature years ago (my behaviour is generally obsessive so I indulge myself in certain topics that I find fascinating) which means that I'm familiar with many poems.

 

[Descartes]

The Vampire, by Charles Baudelaire:

You who, like the stab of a knife,
Entered my plaintive heart;
You who, strong as a herd
Of demons, came, ardent and adorned,

To make your bed and your domain
Of my humiliated mind
— Infamous bitch to whom I'm bound
Like the convict to his chain,

Like the stubborn gambler to the game,
Like the drunkard to his wine,
Like the maggots to the corpse,
— Accurst, accurst be you!

I begged the swift poniard
To gain for me my liberty,
I asked perfidious poison
To give aid to my cowardice.

Alas! both poison and the knife
Contemptuously said to me:
'You do not deserve to be freed
From your accursed slavery,

Fool! — if from her domination
Our efforts could deliver you,
Your kisses would resuscitate
The cadaver of your vampire!'

 

[Newbie17]

A Magic Moment I Remember, by Alexander Pushkin

A magic moment I remember:
I raised my eyes and you were there,
A fleeting vision, the quintessence
Of all that's beautiful and rare
I pray to mute despair and anguish,
To vain the pursuits world esteems,
Long did I hear your soothing accents,
Long did your features haunt my dreams.
Time passed. A rebel storm-blast scattered
The reveries that once were mine
And I forgot your soothing accents,
Your features gracefully divine.
In dark days of enforced retirement
I gazed upon grey skies above
With no ideals to inspire me
No one to cry for, live for, love.
Then came a moment of reinessance,
I looked up - you again are there
A fleeting vision, the quintessence
Of all that's beautiful and rare

 

[Descartes]

No problem, bro, I was quite obsessed with literature years ago (my behaviour is generally obsessive so I indulge myself in certain topics that I find fascinating) which means that I'm familiar with many poems.

I imagine you have a big library as well. I'm also obsessed with literature and you can barely see the colour of my bedroom walls because of the books. My parents complain about me ''wasting'' a lot of money on books but don't care about my sister spending a fortune on makeup, clothing and parties

 

[Newbie17]

I imagine you have a big library as well. I'm also obsessed with literature and you can barely see the colour of my bedroom walls because of the books. My parents complain about me ''wasting'' a lot of money on books but don't care about my sister spending a fortune on makeup, clothing and parties

No, surprisingly. I librarymaxxed A LOT few years ago though. Have to revisit soon again, take some solid books. I was thinking about buying my favourite novels and whatnot, so I can have them always at my disposal.

I wrote many poems back in the days. Just needed a way to vent and writing my thoughts on the paper.

 

[Descartes]

No, surprisingly. I librarymaxxed A LOT few years ago though. Have to revisit soon again, take some solid books. I was thinking about buying my favourite novels and whatnot, so I can have them always at my disposal.

It's also a really nice cope, collecting books or anything really, they become precious objects and you start buying the best quality you can get. Something I like to do is buying some of my favourite books on other languages so it motivates me to learn a new language.

 

[Newbie17]

It's also a really nice cope, collecting books or anything really, they become precious objects and you start buying the best quality you can get. Something I like to do is buying some of my favourite books on other languages so it motivates me to learn a new language.

Have you written any poems? Or stories?

 

[Descartes]

Have you written any poems? Or stories?

Yes, I'm a huge writercel, I even got some of my poems published under a pseudonym. It soothes me, I also tend to write a lot of poems on my head when I'm outside because I hate being around many people, but usually I do it at home. However, I'm not organized with my writing tbh, I just do it whenever I feel like it. My stories have a more gothic style and my poems tend to be more symbolist or romantic. My books are more realist.

 

[Newbie17]

Yes, I'm a huge writercel, I even got some of my poems published under a pseudonym. It soothes me, I also tend to write a lot of poems on my head when I'm outside because I hate being around many people, but usually I do it at home. However, I'm not organized with my writing tbh, I just do it whenever I feel like it. My stories have a more gothic style and my poems tend to be more symbolist or romantic. My books are more realist.

Same actually. My poems tend to be symbolist but also full of decadence. I actually wrote a long ass novel few years ago... Took me a while but I guess it was worth it.

 

[Descartes]

but also full of decadence.

I get you, mine do too, it's sad that poetry has a bad connotation nowadays if you say you like it people think you are a fagot. I like writing about death and mental illness a lot too, I like them as themes.

 

[Newbie17]

I get you, mine do too, it's sad that poetry has a bad connotation nowadays if you say you like it people think you are a fagot. I like writing about death and mental illness a lot too, I like them as themes.

Exactly. But I like it a lot, it's a solid cope and I can express my thoughts easier that way. Yes, death is a common theme in my poems as well.

 

[Descartes]

Exactly. But I like it a lot, it's a solid cope and I can express my thoughts easier that way. Yes, death is a common theme in my poems as well.

Do you write about females too? I use imaginary muses sometimes, I often read poems that involved women so for me is more of an aesthetic thing, just like it's nice to see females in paintings and other art forms, but it wouldn't surprise if incels avoid the theme.

 

[Newbie17]

Do you write about females too? I use imaginary muses sometimes, I often read poems that involved women so for me is more of an aesthetic thing, just like it's nice to see females in paintings and other art forms, but it wouldn't surprise if incels avoid the theme.

Yes, I was giga cucked, so I used my crushes as muses. JFL @ me.

 

[Descartes]

Yes, I was giga cucked, so I used my crushes as muses. JFL @ me.

Imagine being a woman and having a man of taste who writes poetry about you and still not liking him, these whores have their priorities messed up. I've never used women I've met tbh.

 

[Newbie17]

Imagine being a woman and having a man of taste who writes poetry about you and still not liking him, these whores have their priorities messed up.

Brutal and true