Has there been any? Just curious. Also whats the rule in writing poetry in English? (Not a native English speaker) Also since this in poem thread Spoiler: Morning call Fog and cold before first ray came Glowing dread from blanket of comfort Stomping giant step where we from Tides of regret that we can't abort Spoiler: The conversation (continuation) Wake up son or you gonna be late Shut up mom I don't wanna go Get up now or I'll smack you this plate And so I ran to bath and loo Good enough for lazy and stupid guy like me
https://jerz.setonhill.edu/writing/creative1/poetry-writing-tips-how-to-write-a-poem/comment-page-4/ There is a blog thingy for poetry, if that helps? Nice poem sir.
Savor this comment that i drop, One-handed i type this as i fap. Keys are getting kind of sticky, Aiming where to cum is kind of tricky.
yeah But that blog is how to make your poem awesome not the fundamental rule how to write a poem, like how long, or how it must be catchy rhymed at the end.
Here i sit, I'm at a loss, Trying to shit Tobassco sauce, Here i sit, I hope and pray, I don't blow my damned asshole away.
here I lie, stunned at most, Tabasco never give me pause, here I lie, crushing hope and answering prayer, your asshole will suffer the burn.
My book, the page, empty. A blank mind, a page still empty. I sit and sit and time passes. The struggle of writers and Artists’ block happens. Give up? No, yes? If empty, make it a mess. Give up? No. That’s right knock down that block! Fill that blank page, fill it whole! That’s right knock down that block! My book, the page, filled. A blooming mind, a page now filled. I sit and sit doing my work And time passed. The struggle of writers and Artists’ block passed.~Donut tried her best.
On a white beach of bones a lone fisherman lays out his net Yearning for a hook aligned which haven't happened yet Black and sweet is the ocean, a whisper of the deep Calling out to the fisherman, “please, my love, your lust is bound to me” A creature with a fish's tail, beautiful and crowned in scales A beastly figure, with a shapely woman's breasts, Laid upon the rocky shores, in lustrous abound, in rest Her face quite like a warning, as if no approach is to be had, A queen, a vision, a dream, with a gaze turned back upon the past As the fisherman shouts, roused from her sirens song She answers his solemn voice, “man, come and get me, I have been here all along.” Such is the toil of a beast and a man The greatest challenge of all; come and get me if you can.