Poetry

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A community to celebrate published and OC works of poetry.


Welcome to !poetry


Guidelines & Community Rules

In addition to the general rules of lemmy.world:

Published Poetry

1a: Poetry posts should include the title and the author, when the author is known.

O.C. Poetry

2a: Sharing original poetry is encouraged, but it must be preceded by the tag "[OC]."

2b: If an [OC] post is requesting feedback, it should also follow with the "[FB]" tag. It would look like the following example:
[OC] [FB] Nothing Gold Can Stay

Feedback

All feedback should be given in good faith.

3a: All [FB] requests should be met with comments constructive in nature. It is okay to dislike parts of a poem, but make sure to explain why you feel that way.

3b: Feedback does not need to be extraordinary in nature. Simply expressing how a work makes you feel is often enough.

3c: Use the honor system. When you receive good feedback, return it in kind to another author. Everyone appreciates knowing their work is being read and appreciated.

As this community develops, these guidelines may be adjusted.


Formatting Help
Work in progress

To create a line break, use two spaces at the end of a line.

To create empty space, type  . Use four of these at the beginning of a line to create a standard indent.

UPDATE:
Some methods of access do not format markdown correctly. I am currently testing various apps and web interfaces to see what does and does not retain formatting.

In the interim, it is encouraged to post text poetry as you normally would, but to include a link at the beginning or end of the post with access to a website or image that retains the formatting as intended.


Other Poetry Communities
Poetry lovers unite! In the style of the fediverse, multiple poetry communities have arisen, and will continue to rise. I will try to keep a list here of communities across instances that are worth checking out!


founded 1 year ago
MODERATORS
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[OC] "The Sun Dies Tomorrow" (lemmy.blahaj.zone)
submitted 3 days ago* (last edited 3 days ago) by [email protected] to c/poetry
 
 

This is my first complete poem, ever.

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submitted 1 week ago by BonesOfTheMoon to c/poetry
 
 
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The Forest [OC] (lemmy.dbzer0.com)
submitted 6 days ago by [email protected] to c/poetry
 
 

The forest was on fire. The trees were scared, and felt powerless. The two candidates offered to save them. The axe, whose handle was wood, suggested that if their neighbors were “relocated”, the rest of the forest would be safe from the fire. On the other hand the old growth tree in a clearing suggested that fire was a natural part of the forest, and they’d all be okay. In the end the axe was elected, but the forest all burned.

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(Please check out this poem on the Italian Poetry website for the full experience: help with the translation, listening to the reading out loud, and some more notes to the most difficult words.)

Two young lovers are looking for a place where they can "make one life out of two." All the afternoon they wander around under the sun, surrounded by the noise and the comings and goings of adult, everyday life.

But then the night comes, the moon rises, and they find a quiet spot, where the only noise if that of crickets. And here the poem stops and the poet falls silent, presumably intent in better things than writing poetry.

Saba was an admirer of Tasso, and this poem might remind us of this sonnet of his.

And here are the full text:

Vagammo tutto il pomeriggio in cerca
d'un luogo a fare di due vite una.

Rumorosa la vita, adulta, ostile,
minacciava la nostra giovinezza.

Ma qui giunti ove ancor cantano i grilli,
quanto silenzio sotto questa luna.

and my too-literal translation:

We wandered all the afternoon looking for
a place [where] to make of two lives, one.

The noisy, adult, hostile life
was menacing our youth.

But [once we] arrived here, where still the crickets sing,
so much silence under this moon.

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submitted 1 week ago by Cris_Color to c/poetry
 
 

This poem has a lot of emotional significance for me. I have a severe sleep disorder and as a result am not awake during the day. The things I miss the most are sunlight, and the small interactions with people in my area. The polite conversation at the cash register, giving folks compliments, people telling me about their tattoos, wishing people a good day.

When I can't see the sun, and I can't leave the house because nowhere is open its so easy to feel disconnected from humanity. Its incredibly isolating. On the rare occasions that I skip sleep for an important appointment, or my sleep schedule gets so late that it becomes early for a brief period and I get to do those things I miss, this poem captures the feeling that makes me happy to be alive.

For a short window of time, I'm really glad I exist.

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