/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.1170766]

post poems and prose excerpts you always wish had been turned into a song.

[Anonymous No.1170779]

Wet and exposed I came forth
A child already red headed
And ready to boil. Her arms,
The new pink enveloping me,
Held the ignorance and flame
Of a villain who would raze
His cradle to see it collapse.

[Anonymous No.1170800]

Poo,
Rhymes with goo
feels like glue
cows go moo

OC up in here

[Anonymous No.1170803]

THE POOL PLAYERS.
SEVEN AT THE GOLDEN SHOVEL.

We real cool. We
Left school. We

Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We

Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We

Jazz June. We
Die soon.

[Anonymous No.1170805]

could we pretend that airplanes
in the night sky were shooting stars
I could really use a wish right now

[Ambassador D'Vinn !!X2oGg5TpEPB No.1170819]

Edna St.Vincent Millay - Recuerdo

We were very tired, we were very merry—
We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry.
It was bare and bright, and smelled like a stable—
But we looked into a fire, we leaned across a table,
We lay on a hill-top underneath the moon;
And the whistles kept blowing, and the dawn came soon.

We were very tired, we were very merry—
We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry;
And you ate an apple, and I ate a pear,
From a dozen of each we had bought somewhere;
And the sky went wan, and the wind came cold,
And the sun rose dripping, a bucketful of gold.

We were very tired, we were very merry,
We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry.
We hailed "Good morrow, mother!" to a shawl-covered head,
And bought a morning paper, which neither of us read;
And she wept, "God bless you!" for the apples and pears,
And we gave her all our money but our subway fares.

Sung by Belle & Sebastian

[Anonymous No.1171054]

op is looking for poems not already turned into songs. Just poems you wish someone would turn into songs.

[Anonymous No.1171073]

>>1171054
thats the joke.

[Deep&Edgy !pSkjEcB9sQ No.1171075]

The knyght was hende and good,
Therfore he made sory mod,
Forsothe as I yow say.
A lybard com and took that othir
And bar hym evene to his brothir
And sone wente away.
The lady cryde and grette ful ille
And thoughte hereselven for to spylle
On londe ther sche lay.
The knyght bad the lady, "Be stylle
And thanke we God of His wille,"
Thus thenne gan he say.

[Anonymous No.1171517]

>>1170766
Can someone please tell me who wrote this?

[Anonymous No.1171544]

How about songs we wish had been turned into poetry?

[Anonymous No.1171545]

THIS A LOT.

[Anonymous No.1171649]

>>1171545

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ACiA1TX0tvA