/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.3588756]

Here's a question you can all answer, either with one word, or with an essay, should you feel like it:

Has /lit/ ever produced anything really good? Has there ever been a poem, a story, a bit of analysis, and opinion or an observation that you thought would not be out of place in a magazine, a textbook, a novel?

Have you ever seen something on here that you thought would justify the statement by the contributor that he or she was a poet, an authour, a philosopher?

If you saved it (the truest form of appreciation) post it. If not, describe it. If that's too much trouble, just say "yes" or "no".

I myself have seen several really good poets on here, and a few pretty good examples of prose.

[Anonymous No.3589482]

some of the poetry on here is amazingly good. i wouldn't know a good philosopher if one were pissing down my back.

[Anonymous No.3589494]

Won $100 and a book as second prize for a poetry contest.

A girl - who is now a celebrity - read a poem I wrote and became enamored of me. We dated for two years before I moved away.

I've been published in Playboy and another magazine which I have redacted because I did some test searches based on the other information I provided and it led to my identity.

[Anonymous No.3589505]

Every so often, yes.

Read a story in TAR told from the point of the view of a camera which, though needs polishing, was a gem of an idea.

Also read a story about a dog planet where everything is a dog. Can't find any record of it though.

Most is crap, but there are a few good writers lurking here.

[Anonymous No.3589605]

I've seen a few very good poets on /lit/, mostly the ballad writers. Also that guy who made the Jesus in Belfast and Go Tell Them in Gomorrah poems, is my pick for best writer on /lit/.

[Anonymous No.3589610]

>>3589605
I'm fucking blushing right now. Thank you, anon.

[Anonymous No.3589613]

>>3589610
I truly enjoy reading 'em dude. And that one about going down to the sea again.

[Anonymous No.3589763]

>>3589605
Would you mind posting some of the /lit/ stuff you've enjoyed?

[Anonymous No.3589769]

>>3589763
A Rumor in Gomorrah

A man has told me god is good,
and stands above all men,
that he will never cast us forth,
though drenched with lust and sin,
That though we heed him little,
and pursue our own accord
he will not seek our bane nor yet,
unsheath his deadly sword
that he forgives excesses
and will not our prayers reject.

There was rumor in Gomorrah,
to that very same effect.

A friend avers that government,
has all our cares in mind.
And will not neglect the comfort of
the poor, the halt, the blind.
he maintains unreservedly,
his faith in policy.
to bring the fruits of honor to
the strong the just, the free.
he says the great in power seek
the profit of all men

It was mentioned in Treblinka,
but I did not heed it then.

Technology will save us,
i have heard a stranger say.
The wonderment of science,
skill, and tools will win the day.
Our comfort and our safety
we may leave to wise devices.
And men who build and train them up,
will coddle all our vices.
they'll see the futre clearly
and avert all waiting dooms.

I think I heard it spoken in
Titanic's smoking rooms.

The forgiveness of the strong is great,
I'm sure most meen agree.
The wisest and the best of us
will surely all be free.
the bold men, wise in letters
with their eye on public weal.
will never be cast out or forced
their knowledge to conceal.
Time alters soon the hearts of kings,
and all will be put right.

I heard it in the Gulag
almost every single night.

So go forth with the banner
of of redemption wafting high
and shout the slogan "Liberty!"
in land and sea and sky.
Of justice, peace, forgiveness, love,
proclaim the coming reign.
And cry the truth to power,
and the vanity of gain
That mercy always triumphs,
and that men will all be free.

Go tell them in Gomorrah,
but you didn't come from me.

[Anonymous No.3589774]

>>3589763
When Jesus walks in Belfast
He wears his collar up
he keeps his blessings to himself
and stoops before his cup

when Jesus comes through Belfast
he spends his wisdom dear
And when his name is spoken
he makes as not to hear

He keeps well back in company
and shuts his fuckin mouth
and when he can he does his trade
a measure further south

When Jesus walks in Belfast
He keeps his cap pulled low
his step away he quickens
and those returning slow

He'd have a merry welcome
if he should take the whim
to ask the sods he suffered for
to suffer more of him.

[Anonymous No.3589778]

>>3589763
Also here's a prose piece I enjoyed a few days back, posting more poetry now:
One morning the Thames decided to visit Westminster. Having spent its entire working life being trodden on by boats and boarded up by bridges it grew dissatisfied with its position in the world. Occasionally, it would distract itself by bursting its banks or swallowing a clumsy drunkard but they did little to cure the malaise of a millennia as a city river. From time to time word would reach it of distant waters that only fuelled the Thames' unhappiness: of the narrow Nile where crocodiles frolic, or of the Amazon; so wide it is known as the River Sea. As if to spite their river the city's residents erected an Egyptian obelisk on its bank, a perpetual reminder of its shortcomings. Frequently it would imagine that the other great estuaries were mocking him across the globe - that if people pressed their ears close enough to the water of the Hudson or the Ganges they could hear the faint sound of chuckling rising from the riverbeds.

[Anonymous No.3589780]

>>3589763

Anniceris sat in the square, Hegesias by his side
Who pierced the sultry summer air, with a question aimed at life
"What cares do you have for your sons, when to my words they leap
No calming air nor sweetened breeze, can ease the woes they keep"

Anniceris had heard enough, and to his friend he posed
A wager set 'tween God above, and Hegesias below
"If it's truth you do espouse, of worthless life you speak
May your pen pour out great gouts, and redden soon these streets
And if when sun dispels the dusk, we find Rome returned to Earth
My kingdom will be yours to keep, and all its Godly worth"

And with their pride and persons set, as both did face their fall
Anniceris went unto a crate, and said 'Come one, come all!'
The denizens of rome appeared, and stood entranced in awe
And with the ink still wet on parch, Hegesias purveyed all

'Dance now children to the end, Dance 'till souls go soft,
Our God has left us to his child,
He once did hold aloft."

The night fell dark, the Angel's wept, the blood of Rome did seep
And through the dark a demon came, and faced the stars at East
Anniceris awoke alone, with death stale in the air
And looked upon the corpse of Rome, and failed to shed a tear
Instead his words rang like an arrow, through cold decaying air
"Hegesias make for the courts, and I shall meet you there"
And two minds met amid the death, two privy to the dawn
Anniceris gave all accrued, to the wager did he fall

But Hegesias was merciful, and to his friend returned
The wager, winnings and the work, for which the Romans burned
And 'Death By Starvation' lives on in verse, and dies as did its core
With Hegesias the wisened sage, who Rome let speak no more.

[Anonymous No.3589789]

>>3589780
Thank you

[Anonymous No.3589795]

>>3589769
I love this, reminds me of some poets who I'm ashamed to mention because I imagine they'd be called pleb-tier.

Great stuff.

[Anonymous No.3589832]

>>3589780
That was awful.

[Anonymous No.3589839]

>>3589832
I enjoyed it.

[Anonymous No.3589978]

>>3589839
it read like a bad copy of the ramayana

[Anonymous No.3590001]

I read a story about a hot dog eating contest on here that might have been the funniest thing I ever read. It was summer 2012 when I read it I think.

[Anonymous No.3590874]

This

>>3585254

pretty goodin my opinion,

[Anonymous No.3591121]

I don't suppose anybody saved the second half of this one?

Elegy for a Dead World

Orion paused above the moon,
And pausing turned, and turning fell,
And, I upon a moonlit path paused too,
to count the vesper bell
Orion strode the twilight haze
stalwart in silence to ignore
The sleepless and unseeing gaze
of the red eye of the god of war,
I thought then of the many nights
Of freezing in some country yard
I’d borne far from the city lights
The stress of that aloof regard.
I saw again majestic realms
By soaring minds, with legends fed
The dire and ancient denizens
The souls imagination bred
To populate those shores and glens
Now slaughtered by the callous stroke
Of caliper, spectroscope and lens;
But memory within me spoke
Of blameless hypotheticals
Cyclopean or frail, and green
That left those pastures tenantless
And fled into the might-have-been
The truth of your mute testaments
Mans emissaries, wise machines
That penetrate the firmament
Indifferently limn your scenes
A desert plain that never ends
Beneath a cloud-untroubled sky
The playhouse of the dervish winds
That rise and fail and silent lie.
Your seas unwatered, rivers sere
And salt and silt choke mere and tarn
No spire, canal, or minaret
No déjà thoris, thark, or tharn
No soft astronomers search the skies
With envious unsympathetic eyes.

[Anonymous No.3591656]

>>3589613

this one? And I'm the guy that wrote these, not this guy:>>3589610

I have no idea what he thought he would accomplish by taking credit for them.


I must go down to the shore again
where the salt perfumes the air
I had half of a perfect august day,
and Im sure I left it there.

And the bonfire burned
and the moonlight turned
the sea to a silver plain
I must go down to the shore once more
and find that day again

I must go down to the shore again,
lest I lose those angry skies
when the gentle blue
turned a darker hue,
like the shadows in your eyes

and the sweet salt spray
and the warming day
left a savor on your skin
so I must go down to the shore once more
when the summer tides roll in


I must go down to the shore again,
i have stayed away too long
for my arms grow pale
and my thoughts grow stale
and I can't recall that song
that we sang that day by the quiet bay
on our blanket on the sand
and I miss that heat
on my cold bare feet
like the soft touch of your hand


I must go down to the shore again,
I must not forget the touch
aof the sweet warm breeze
off the southern seas
I would feel that loss too much
for my eyes have lost the fleeting shade
when the last red rays of the suns light fade
on the ocean when it sets
and I must go down to the shore again
before my heart forgets.

[Anonymous No.3591674]

>>3591656

No I'm Anonymous!

[Anonymous No.3591679]

>>3591674
Pleased to meet you. I'm spartacus.

[Anonymous No.3591692]

>>3588756
Yeah. Lit Rand book and the Poems about Nickin Minaj's Booty.

[Anonymous No.3591690]

>Here's a question you can all answer, either with one word, or with an essay, should you feel like it: Has /lit/ ever produced anything really good? Has there ever been a poem, a story, a bit of analysis. . .

lost it there, sorry :DD

[Anonymous No.3591706]

>>3590001
I have that.

http://pastebin.com/axvkmaqJ

[Anonymous No.3591708]

>>3591692
i thought the minaj ass as muse concept was a great one. we should do stuff like that more often.

[Anonymous No.3591712]

This is from The Believer so I don't know why some guy posted it here but I found the way he did the line breaks to be quite pleasing.

Where I grew up in South Boston
twenty years ago, when a kid walked
down the street, everyone knew who he
was. If he ran out in front of a car,
some old Mick'd yell at him, "Jimmy
Dunne, get back on that sidewalk and
stay there!" The day he graduated high school,
he'd go see his uncle down at the gas
works, or the priest's brother in the
shipyard, get his apprentice papers,
eight years later he'd be making
$16.50 an hour, have four kids, play
ball on Sundays in Columbus Park, and
when he died, the whole town'd get
drunk and cry over him. Today, when that kid walks down
the street it's full of trash and
half the faces are black. The
shipyard's closed, all the jobs at
the gas works are set-asides, and by
the time he drops out of school, he
can barely get a job at Burger King.
So he drinks, smokes crack, and when
he hangs himself on the front porch
at twenty-three, the only people at
his wake are a couple of buddies and
his mother. The boy's father won't
find out he's dead till six months
later. The soul of this country is being
destroyed, and all the government can
offer is free trade, mutual funds and
IPOs. I oppose the present state because
it's weak. It has been ever since the
left emasculated it over Vietnam. But
I think the average man is crushed
less by accumulated capital than the
loss of community or real leadership,
the personal emptiness he simply
cannot fill on his own. That's why I'm a fascist. It's the
only form of government that
addresses our deepest needs.

[Anonymous No.3591716]

>>3591692
>>3591708

does anyone have the link to those? the This Is Just To Say one is great.

[Anonymous No.3591717]

Also while we're on the subject of racially insensitive internet poetry of merit: "Ghoulish Jap"

Creaky-kneed
Sips the tea
Ghoulish Jap

Eats the meats
Sacred beasts
Ghoulish Jap

Power lines
Coward minds
Ghoulish Jap

In the flower garden
Old people waiting
For the bombing
That didn't
Kill them

[Anonymous No.3591721]

>i thought this was good, some guy posted it on Valentine's

Rough magic for man's spellings must suffice
on moonlit height, in secret, and alone
the throat, the blade, the blood of sacrifice
must conjure his stark prayer to silent stone
a woman's sorceries are subtler things
dumb suppers, petal-oracles and sighs
enchantments writ on promises and rings
epithalamion and lullabyes
For love alone it seems a futile end
discrepant supplications to beguile
and join that which seems best disposed to rend
and such diverse rogation reconcile
But cupids bolts contrive to hearts combine
contrary pleas, in single valentine.

[Anonymous No.3591728]

>Has there ever been a poem, a story, a bit of analysis, and opinion or an observation that you thought would not be out of place in a magazine, a textbook, a novel?

I think this attitude is problematic, and does not describe /lit/'s most worthwhile work. That is to say, /lit/ is not a magazine, a textbook, or a novel, and needn't adhere to the standards of any of the three. The most worthwhile work of /lit/ is in discourse and the interplay of attitudes.

[Anonymous No.3591732]

>>3591716
http://www.amazon.com/The-Story-of-Johnny-ebook/dp/B009HK9820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1364152232&sr=1-1&keywords=Lit+Rand

No clue about Nicki Minaj.

[Anonymous No.3591736]

>>3591728
i can see that certainly, and i think most people do come for th interaction. however there are occasional gems thrown out for comment and I think this thread is for those.

[Anonymous No.3591826]

>>3591721

is is by that same author. also wrote the Gomorrah one

Travelogue

"Pray What is the news from Babylon?
Does Xerxes ancient town,
Still hold inside the Lion's Pride?
where once the world bowed down?"
"There is no tale of Babylon,
that great long-storied land
The Lion's gates are broken now.
The fields are choked with sand"

"You Tread the Path from Illion
Where gods and men did greet,
Does Priams mighty fortress still,
Show all assault defeat?"
"What gods have sown, the raven reaps,
I offer you no joy
neath broken stones her treasure sleeps
I bear no news of Troy."

"Speak, pilgrim, of Jerusalem,
I know you passed that way.
The palmer's badge adorn's you yet:
does David's line hold sway?"
"Where prophets sowed the seed of love,
the weeds of hate now grow:
the peace that was Jerusalem
was broken long ago."

"well, traveller, What of Camelot?
does Arthur's blood still reign?
Do boldy go the shining knights
across the feudal plain?"
"A trusted friend's betrayal;
a bastard's vaunting greed.
The moon that watches camelot
sees stones upon a mead."


"Good host, I beg you, ask no more
you waken in my mind
the shadows of vain, fallen hopes
I fain would leave behind.
You long for comfort; this i know,
that grandeur might abide,
that strength of stone and arms and hearts
can bear the waxing tide,
And Gilgamesh the strong yet stands
upon his mighty wall.
That works endure the waning sands,
that towers might not fall.
Content yourself that legends live
where men are just or brave,
and deeds of lives may yet survive
their castles in the grave.
I will not comfort you with hopes
that Rome may live again;
don't ask me of Tenoctitlan,
I've no news from Berlin.
In sorrow i depart you now;
regretting lenten cheer.
But the road is long
towards London town,
i cannot linger here."

[Anonymous No.3591865]

>>3591706
>http://pastebin.com/axvkmaqJ

okay, the hot dog story is pretty good.

[Anonymous No.3591897]

the Melanie Rae Thon thread is a brilliant read, I thought. You can tell there was one guy that really "led" the thread, but the whole thing... to me, it was great.

http://fuuka.warosu.org/lit/thread/S2142656#p2146291

[Anonymous No.3591981]

>>3591897
i had forgotten about this. pretty cool.

[Anonymous No.3592027]

>A picture is worth a thousand words

[Anonymous No.3592033]

>>3592027
Good morning Tao. How are you today? Getting ready to start five threads about yourself?

[Anonymous No.3592041]

>>3592027
I have to agree

[Anonymous No.3592083]

>>3592027
Go to bed &c

[Anonymous No.3592168]

Issue 001 http://pastebin.com/T6xgePd9
Issue 002 http://pastebin.com/r60Ds4n5
Issue 003 http://pastebin.com/WPtYyXyg
Issue 004 http://pastebin.com/FSpDCyhz
Issue 005 http://pastebin.com/EBXV3rnT
Issue 006 http://pastebin.com/aVDMZ8BX
Issue 007 http://pastebin.com/k0uuYZeh
Issue 008 http://pastebin.com/6RGK7FPZ
Issue 009 http://pastebin.com/XSBnpY01
Issue 010 http://pastebin.com/bABagPE2
Issue 011 http://pastebin.com/LXH7fNVC
Issue 012 http://pastebin.com/JX7rgGLb
Issue 013 http://pastebin.com/4Y6CJHBS
Issue 014 http://pastebin.com/PbpJxypr
Issue 015 http://pastebin.com/fHLv0krr
Issue 016 http://pastebin.com/KYGDtpfX

Everything I've ever saved is trash. But reflecting on /lit/'s best efforts can be pretty funny in a sad sort of way. It's like a comedy of errors.

[Br0 !!6MVXskhR3UN No.3592198]

>>3592027

Agreed n_n