Internet Poets: the rise of sensitive bullshit

Creative Forums Creative Writing
1

all the pretend internet poets
I have caught you masturbating
pouring out great deflations
of Sensitive Bullshit:

  • The Sadness
  • The Heart
  • The Miscell
  • The Enlightened
  • The Darkness
  • The Tragedy
  • The Nature
  • The Angst
  • The Haiku
  • The Experiences
  • The Anger
  • The Humor
  • The Roots
  • The Fantasy

O me! O life!
O private hidden heart!
O touchy feely!
O nobody feels!
O noone sees!
O noone understands!

What a big cringe!
What a boat load
of egg shell feelies!

Not a man among them
All soft eggs with butter brains…
All tissue heart men with girl-tears.
All sickly sweet navel gazing heartfelt
weaklings…

It’s so embassing to watch you all humiliate yourselves.
As you read out your poems of towering cliche and mediocrity!
The size of your mind inches through each word…cringe! cringe!
How small!

Your poem is a little - Yes, little, I want to humiliate you - map
of one uninspired town and mind called nowhere and not much.

There are ten thousands others like you.
Egg shell soft caramel souled!
Tear vote juries of weaklings!
Huggers of rare animals!
Wimps of skinny body and sunflower heart!
Soft neutral milky temprament!
Diplomatic pink bellies!
Fence sitting idiots!
indolent suburban sheep!
Terrified cry-when-held-up mums!
Mawkish vulnerable sentamentalists!
Limp wristed poesy queer tongued poems!
Conscientious-Objectors

I weep in my bed at night thinking of you all.
(Jesus, don’t make me vomit into The Tabernacle)

[i]That life exists with the power of memory
That we must end and all must lie as dust

  • what reason makes of this!
  • what heart doth feel[/i]

    ‘My Love is a red red nose
    that has just been broken
    by a yob with a fucking
    fat punch after he groped
    my birds tit while I was taking
    a piss down the lane…’

When the boots stand upon the world.
Their Gods shall March upon the skeletons!

[size=200]
DUDE! POEMS SUCK
THEY ARE SO GAY!
[/size]

KILL ALL POETS NOW!
They are counter-revolutionary.
KILL ALL POETS NOW!
They are terrible architects.

We Modern Folk!
We are a weak gene paste
of the quality of the past!

Everything we try to accomplish
Is a pathetic D.I.Y Botched job
outshined by the quality of the past.

The fall from the classical!
Pick yourself up!
Stop being a girl!

Slap your neighbour in the face
every day
for suffering makes us strong.
A strength bolder…

Weight x Context

  • temprament
  • strategy
    Divided by form
    equals: content.
2

i am not going to stop being a girl.

3

=D>

Going OT slightly, I’ve looked up Charles Bukowski on the web and seen that he’s got a large volume of published material. I’m tempted to read some of him, preferrably his funnier stuff.

4

I am not just a Bukowski Copist Chimney. I hope you can read that. The man has helped me a lot in how I understand writing. But we write from very very different places.

Hope you enjoyed this rant-poem!

5

I didn’t think nor was implying that you were. I raised the man because I’d just been reading about him, and I thought you might know about him.

I did like it, yes.

6

Colinsign,

In a single moment you have made me traverse the path of the unenlightened sage. I now know why graves are dug, and why toilet paper is put on rolls. You have given me what I have often sought, but instead threw away as quickly as it was found, because the shit stank, and it was easier to flush than to catalouge, if you see my meaning. I have heard stories of people who kept their own excrement, and believe me, they don’t end up well.

You see the problem exists in the form of dissolution. It is the formulaic decline of the literary education through the public schools, and the acceleration of the phenomenon of the quick fix (media, television, drugs, ect.), which is defined as the thing which a man can become addicted to. The scope of sin has expanded in the christian semantical sense.

You would have been better off being born two centuries go, or not at all.