Poetry
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!
view the rest of the comments
transcript (tesseract + manual adjustment (bad)):
I SAW A BAT in a dream and then later that week I saw a real bat, crawling on its elbows
across the porch like a goblin.
It was early evening. I want to ask about death.
But first I want to ask about flying.
The swimmers talk quietly, standing waist-deep in the dark lake.
It’s time to come in but they keep talking quietly.
Above them, early bats driving low over the water.
From here the voices are undifferentiated.
The dark is full of purring moths.
Think of it—to navigate by adjustment, by the beauty of adjustment. All those shifts and echoes.
The bats veer and dive. Their eyes are tiny golden fruits.
They capture the moths in their teeth.
Summer is ending. The orchard is carved with the names of girls.
Wind fingers the leaves softly, like torn clothes.
Remember, desire was the first creature
that flew from the crevice
back when the earth and the sky were pinned together like two rocks.
Now, I open the screen door and there it is— a leather change purse moving across the floorboards.
But in the dream you were large and you opened the translucent hide of your body and you folded me in your long arms.
And held me for a while.
As a bat might hold a small, dying bat.
As the lake holds the night upside down in its mouth.
Oh what a nice bot.
if bot is tesseract: yeah, is nice.
if bot is me: thanks!