As we all know from popular culture, newspaper articles, and The Game, women are easy to manipulate through a calculated set of words, all nicely ordered and pretty, delivered while waving arms around distractedly in front of their faces. And since poetry is the lazy writer's way to express oneself, not only creatively, but prolifically, this starter kit is guaranteed to get you laid. Prepare to be lauded as a genius, both misunderstood and incredible.
I will give you the most important influences that will aid you in developing your craft, the different styles to adopt, and the topical matters that will make your writing all artsy—the rest will depend on your love-making ability (please pre-order “How to Make Love When Your Girl is Moist” and get a 50% discount on a home-manufactured, stainless steel cock ring*).
The Romantics were literally swimming in the gush of uncontrollably leaking vaginas, and so had ample excuse for being such boundless pansies.*Disclaimer: Cock ring may or may not be stainless steel, but rather a meshwork of wadded together paperclips, sticky-tack and jizz. All products made to meet standard health and safety requirements and manufacturing protocols. Do not operate near microwaves or heavy machinery.
It is very important to know the importance of words…what they mean when writing poetry. Some people just write gobbledygook on the page, allowing every word that comes to mind to spill out in hopes that no one will notice. While it may look spectacular, should anyone find out that the poem is about nothing, you will not get published, YOU WILL NOT GET LAID, and your only outlet will be open mic performance nights (to be fair, you will be loved at these events, though).
Get to know how words feel inside your mouth, their enunciation and pronunciation, the harshness of these words, the tightness of them, or conversely their freedom, because psychologically, a woman's legs will widen with every use of a word that hints toward her liberation from a male-dominated and biased society, or the possibility that she will be valued beyond the snug feel of her vagina. In this way, you will be able to channel whatever her desired emotion—preferably motherly, horny, or insecure, whichever works best for you. Be creative with it: use the predictable psychology of a woman wanting to be well treated, cared for, and loved as a means to get intimate the Barry White way.
Remember though, influences are important. Don't think you can win this war alone. If you write poetry without becoming versed in some of the people who knew shit way better than you, who bedded bitches before you came crawling to this doorstep with your snivelling, dry-period blues, you will fail.
Below is a list of influences from a range of poetry's most profound periods, from the classic stylings of The Dandies (or Romantics), to the chaotic fire of Da Beatz (or just The Beat Poets), to those offering more obscure, surreal, and confusing styles (poetry's Big Bosses, basically).
1. John Keats
We shall begin with the romantics, for they did it best, and none more elaborately than John Keats, the Mac-Daddy of Pussy-Hounds. The romantics wrote of women as roses without the thorns, which does appear a lot like putting the pussy up on a pedestal… BUT HEY, IF IT GETS YOU LAID!
Keats wrote epics as much as the next romantic. These are as tiresome as novels and so understandably were not well received in their day, and will barely be touched upon here, for they will send you AND your women to sleep without intercourse.
I don't know about you guys, but I want to get to the pussy pronto. I got no time for “connections” and “picnics,” so if you think likewise, you'll need something brief. As many big, impacting words as possible in as short a delivery as possible. Something that makes your mangina dribble in record-breaking time. As a poet, the “Synonyms” function in Word will become your most treasured, compulsory feature of anything software-related.
John is A-okay to recite to your woman once she's yours and no longer inspires you to write stuff. His poems will work just as good as your own, original material; for some fucked up reason, women see value in most things and are supportive even when it's shitty. So by that boooooring point in the relationship, please by all means throw yourself into the epics; they can last a solid few months of good lovin' as she awaits the sequel stanza, all glowing and coated by the moonlit canopy of willow leaves weighing down the aged bough of a comforting, Earthen arm, an ancient soul of oaken, protective adoration or some shit like that. A FUCKING TREE!
2. Byron
A lot of the romantics were called dandy-poof, or queer-face, in their times because they wrote things of the finer feelings in life, stories of great passion. You need not fear this connection with yourself on a greater-than-caveman-level, for the romantics were literally swimming in the gush of uncontrollably leaking vaginas, and so had ample excuse for being such boundless pussies.
Excuse me, sir?
Byron would write about his female loves as if they were the very symbol of God on Earth, something women will find very easy to get behind. Other times, when they failed to give up the pussy, he would attempt the reverse. Byron was one of the first philosophers of the “treat them mean to keep them keen” doctrine, an effective way to love a woman, I'm told. Like, be all the bastard you want so long as you tie-off your shitty behavior with a bouquet of flowers when she finally intends to pack up her shit and move on—i.e. slap your woman across the head then write her good poetry.
MY METHODS ARE FAILSAFE!
3. P.B. Shelly
Wh-what the fuck? One hundred page poems about Islam? Fuck you, Shelley.
4. Dylan Thomas
Possibly the most overrated poet of ever, Dylan Thomas spoke of but three things: boats, milk, and… I forget. Probably women. Maybe drink. He died of one, perhaps a combination of the two. Ghosts. Wales. Dylan Thomas has written probably two exceptional poems in his life—Do not go gentle into that good night and And death shall have no dominion. Use these as inspiration, because he is what Sisqó was to hip-hop and likely to get the ladies bouncing in the club if nothing else, metaphorically speaking.
5. W.B. Yeats
Probably the most read poet of our times. Best described as a simple man's poet, so you got your main source of inspiration right here, my friend. His style is often rhyming (although there are exceptions), and his words might appear formulaic—the power of Yeats came in the order of his words, not their extensiveness. This is important: THE ORDER OF WORDS WILL GET YOU LAID!
He has written some truly great love poetry, a good middle-ground between the flamboyant nature of the romantics and a more grounded fare where the woman wasn't so much deified as the feeling described in tandem with her sexiness, the feelings sent to his Johnson (zing?) documented but metaphorically cleverer—Yeats made boners as mystical as the parting of the labia minora, and that there is “equality” with a dotted “i” and a crossed “t.”
As for his romantic conquests, Ol' W.B. was infatuated with Maude Gonne, and pursued her over the course of many years, writing of her at a distance, we assume, when he was too impotent to masturbate any more that evening (probably by candlelight, all starry-eyed and wistful).
In the end, his persistence of dogging her endlessly throughout her natural life paid off, and the couple soon did the dirty and quickly separated without qualm, proving that all comes to those who wait, if you really hold out for the pussy, and that sex ruins everything, even the most resilient, obsessive, and torturous of loves (which as we all know are the healthiest).
I think the lady should have trusted her gut instinct and realized that Yeats was a bit of a flimsy butter-baller, a sappy girly-chap, and a practicer of gay for wasting three decades of his life chasing the same piece of tail, but at the same time I think she was getting too old for anything new. THESE WOMEN WILL BECOME THE GOLDEN FINDS IN THE LATER YEAR'S OF A POET'S LIFE.
Despite his incessant faggotry, Yeats was a very accessible poet who wrote solid, endearing love poems that he probably reviled once he got all up in them guts—you too will find that once you've shared the love-making with the target of your affectation *ahem* I mean affection, your desire to write about them will subside, and they will be like, always nagging about why they aren't your muse anymore.
If you want a poet who rhymes and is consistently incredible, go with… you guessed it, a female poet, Emily Dickinson.
6. Emily Dickinson
Emily was an unsuccessful poet throughout her life, having had only seven poems published before her death. She was also famously a recluse, having once said of people, “They talk of hallowed things, aloud, and embarrass my dog. He and I don't object to them, if they'll exist their side.” She basically had nothing left to do with her time but write, having lived a life quoted as with “a nun-like piety.” She wasn't the life of the party, is what I'm trying to say.
She had one great love in her life, a married priest who moved away, probably to do unwholesome things with his wife. As a result, she wrote of a restlessness that came from a suppressed sexuality for all the feeling denied her, and it reads magnificently. Good thing the relationship wasn't consummated as in the case of W.B. Yeats, else we might've got:
Motherfucker, motherfucker
Took my cherry
Failed to call me back
She had the knack for making rhymes easy, standard before tying it all together beautifully often in the final stanza or in the shortest of poems the final line, giving purpose and definition to the work even in the case of one-stanza, four-line poems. Her works will help you understand the minds of women better—simply, they always make perfect sense in the end!
7. T. S. Eliot
A bit of a leviathan, a mythical beast, a Chupacabra, sometimes I think his poems are of such a higher mind that they were spawned by aliens, or a robot, or an ancient reptilian race that sexed up our foremothers and gave them jeans. Women would describe such a man as brooding, which is basically the M25 all the way to Bieefquertinville.
Unfortunately, Eliot is a modern poet who is quite cryptic, though. You'll often have to think through his work, which I understand will be tough to do with such a constant raging hard-on.
8. E.E. Cummings
E.E. Cummings is probably one of my biggest heroes for being boldly outspoken, innovative, multi-talented, prolific, and a man who has loved, lived and died the right way: multiple marriages, moderate smoking and drinking, no exercise, and the gradual deterioration of his health before a bed-ridden death. This is the only way for any serious poet to die.
A painter/acrylics artist, playwright, and poet, it was as much his love of poetry as his political pieces that got the women warm inside. Ol' dog definitely spoke of his preference for intellectual women in his audience, too, which, quite frankly, having now lived in a time when “bang-tidy” is a way to describe someone, makes me respect him all the more.
Inspired by the cubist movement, his structures were bizarre, his measure unique, and his talent for choosing the right words sublime—the imagery in his poems (this is when words make you think of vivid pictures in your head) is most startling so as to make regular, “safe” poetry words like “moon,” “sun,” and “stars” a delight to come across. His love of poetry captured the very essence of the women he was writing about, unlike The Romantics, who just wrote about flowers. I doubt a woman could withstand a line like:
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
Than teach ten thousand how not to dance
Also, Cummings… lol.
9. Walt Whitman
A homosexual poet. Religion says that homo is a choice and a disease, so whatever you do, do not pick up this book. It will not get you laid! (Except by men.)
Walt Whitman spent the time from Leaves of Grass‘ publication to his death editing and reprinting it, probably to maximize the number of Catholic schoolboys converting to his cause for undesirable paternal fraternizing. Burn it—it is not a masterpiece, but rather literary homosexual propaganda.
10. William Shakespeare
Ol' Bill may've been a fruit too, y'know, so be selective as to his sonnets you choose to read. Shall I compare thee to a Summer's day… may have been about a young man's rear-bits, and his infatuation between this “Fair Lord” and a “Dark Woman” (plus his wife, Anne Hathaway) was ever shifting. When the former went on to have a relationship with the latter, his distaste for the “Dark Woman” (the vinegar in his sonnets) increased, as did his obsessions over the young man he thought had been corrupted.
Honestly, though, if you're sleeping with gays and Africans (at the same time!), I think you dodged a bullet if they both leave you and start keeping that AIDS thing in-house.
Because both of his lovers knew each other, when it comes to his sonnets, he may be talking about the vagina (a thumbs up) in one line only to segue into his love for the young man-cock (definitely thumbs down), so be careful which of William Shakespeare's two head-zones you draw your inspiration from. WOMEN WILL NOT SLEEP WITH YOU IF THEY THINK YOU'RE GAY! Otherwise he was one of, if not the greatest, writer and storyteller of all time yadda yadda yadda.
11. W. H. Auden
I originally thought that W. H. Auden was a woman who wrote exceptional love poetry, but it turns out he's actually a man! DISGUSTING! More homo propaganda!
12. Sylvia Plath
Sylvia Plath is like Emily Dickinson but without the rhyme, or Ah-nold in Commando without the grenades. Still gets the job done, just takes a while longer. In the film Sylvia, historians would have you believe that her poetry came up against much objection before she could find herself a man, Ted Hughes, to settle down with and who would wrap his arms around her and say things like “There, there, look everyone, control yourselves, she's not crazy, and I will school her wild, inappropriate and frightening poetry and her vagina is all squishy and nice, like with most women!”
The film would allude that she would take common things and transform them into the irregular (under the tutelage of the great set of testicles by her side, of course), but honestly there are times when there are simply too many avenues by which to interpret her writing. With such an uncanny and remarkable style, she was easily one of the greatest poets to have lived, and it had little to do with Ted Hughes, I should expect. Her suicide, on the other hand, may have. Out of her respect for all things Jewish, and having copiously used Jewy themes in her writing, she killed herself by cooking her head in an oven.
Learn to take something deeply personal and wrap it around with so much metaphor that the reader will have no choice other than to nod enthusiastically at your brilliance:
Oh mesmerizing pink ribbon-flaps
Wrap thee twixt mine ears
Boutst mine aching head
I be breathless
I be gay
‘Tis how I'd love to go
13. Ted Hughes
Next to Bukowski, Sylvia Plath, and E.E. Cummings, Ted Hughes is my favorite poet. He had two wives (one being Sylvia Plath), and both committed suicide, so maybe being an exceptional and prolific poet is not the thing to be for long-term relationships—you will depress the shit out of your loved ones with your endless observations of everyday things, making a bowlful of fruit synonymous with eroding relationships and reasons to die.
Ted Hughes was the bomb at knowing the power of words, their order especially, and how well they sounded and complemented each other (something people thought, incorrectly, about Dylan Thomas… the Welsh, smug git).
14. William McGonagail
McGonagail was considered the worst poet, with no sense for measure. I'd rather not say any more on the matter, really, because if considered the worst poet, well them's some stiff words to live up against, surely. Visit poetry.com as a reminder of what such an award entails.
15. Edgar Allan Poe
Edgar Allan Poe was a poet and a novelist. The love of his life was his cousin (if familial is the only pussy you can get, then long may you live happy, brother); they married when he was 27 years old and she was 13.
Edgar Allan Poe is notorious for being mocked by good poets, and lauded by excellent novelists. He wrote dark stuff as much as he did sweet, loving, incestuous, paedophilic intercourse stuff.
16. Charles Bukowski
The Mecca of poetry, the pimp-daddy of prose, the boss of womanizing, the king of alcoholics, possibly the ugliest sumbitch you've ever seen, and an absolute hero of down and out, the antihero of society, the only man who makes every anecdote about himself an epic tale of love, loss, boning, and passing out in drunken stupors.
Charles Bukowski is described as possibly the most emulated poet of our times. None have bettered the style of this humanitarian wreckage of genius, a freeform, almost freestyle method of writing, notorious for writing crap as much as the next guy (barring the romantics of course, who would let faeces tumble from their asses and have it lapped up by modern-day critics). His free and easy style justified just prolific he was and how much he drank until his death.
Seeing as once you're published and popular even the scraps you write on the back of train tickets are in demand, you can rest assured that even his bad poems would leave you with a smile on your face, whether you like him as a person or not. (And women, Bukowski wrote of love with a seriously undervalued grittiness, a realism and a grounded respect for women-like, Hey, you know what's smelly, has two big lips, a hood, and an elongated bridge with a bundle on the end ? Here's a hint: It isn't a black gangster! Now give it here, I have a hunger that would put a pack of wolves to shame.)
Adopt this guy's style if you think absolutely everything you live, everything you do is incredible, yet somehow you're depressed as shit. Document it all, chop out the occasional unnecessary word (these will be extremely seldom if you adopt the Bukowski way), and voila.
Also, he always calls the vagina a cunt, and I'm not sure whether three times lucky and 18 close calls later in my life women like that sort of thing yet.
17. Leonard Cohen
Many say that with the burden of genius comes the burden of depression, and I most certainly can sympathizse with this. Not one of my poems has gotten me laid yet. But fear ye not, dear reader, Leonard Cohen was a lady's man, so wrought in talented despair that he was hip-deep in horny-mercy-fucks (these are the best, replete with good lovin' and enough sympathy to not talk to you after the sex ‘cause you're too deep and troubled as it is).
18. Eminem
Eminem is the most famous poet to have lived, a white rap artist who came to fame through his shock-tactic lyrics about misogyny, ex-girlfriends, drugs, poverty, being the only white geezer in the ghetto, and lovely ballads about his daughter (these might get you laid, but be careful, some women don't want the added commitment of a child pulling on their hair or saying how they aren't good enough for daddy).
The more attention he received from the public as a result of his early success, the more he seemed to hone his style into thoughtful writes, as he realized with each passing year that there is just no sense trying to battle a hateful mob, so you might as well tailor to them and have them at least stop throwing wrenches at your head.
Or maybe he just matured and wizened—his writing certainly sharpened, carried greater impact, focused less on banality as he grew older, and more about stabbing bitches than giving them gonorrhea (again, I don't value this approach to getting laid, but it's certainly innovative).
I have to question his rhyming of “you” with “you” and “me” with “me.” Although certainly an unusual method, rhyming one word with the exact same word seems like a one-way ticket to being thought of as a stupid-head:
Don't let me lose you/I'm not trying to confuse you
Best selling poet in the world? Who's this guy trying to fool?!
19. Biggie-2Pac
Black people rave about this guy; what can I say, he's a cultural icon. Biggie-2Pac (or sometimes just Biggie, sometimes just 2Pac, and then sometimes just Pac) was a famous rap artist who lived in the ghetto in the 90's. He tragically killed himself (twice) in the years 1996 and 1997, although conspiracy theorists believe it may have been the police. No offense, but if you're going to write a track called “Cop Killer,” yer gonna attract some heat from the po-lice.
As with Eminem (who Biggie-2Pac was a great admirer of—hang on, there's a riot taking place outside my window…), Pac wrote of women as bitches. It's a controversial approach, but when written to women who appear on Girls Gone Wild films, standard street-dwelling hoes, or just bitches who want a solid merciless fuck and a little extra money in the bank, then I'd encourage you to adopt it and don't forget to rubber up.