Poetic Constellations

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Poetic Constellations is a Yuku poetry community that is home to many would-be poets and would-be writers whose works are too filled with AIDS and fail to be publishable IRL. It is a circle-jerk hugbox safe haven for all the Internet poets who are too pussy to have their work honestly critiqued, as even the mildest criticism of anyone's work, no matter how horrible, is forbidden under the site's TOS.

Although the TOS of Poetic Constellations prevents any lulzy melodrama from unfolding regularly, it does thankfully mean that Poetic Constellations is extremely easy to troll. All the butthurt and drama resulting from said trolling will occur via private Yuku messages, and is still every bit as delicious as other forms of drama on the Interbutts.

How To Troll Poetic Constellations[edit]

  1. Leave a subtly negative comment on a poem, such as "This poem is pretty good, but it still needs a lot of work." or "I like the first stanza, but the second stanza just doesn't do it for me." This will result in massively butthurt private messages from the mods telling you how terribly hurtful your comments are and how guilty you should feel about the horrible, horrible things you said.
  2. Post said butthurt messages on the forum and laugh them off as jokes. Say things like "Man, you guys are way too sensitive!" and claim you were only trying to help the poet whose work you criticized become a better poet.
  3. Enjoy the lulz.

The Unwritten Rules Of Poetic Constellations[edit]

  • Women > Men
  • Dust Mites > Men
  • AIDS > Men
  • Only the moderators can give out awards and recognition.
  • Only the moderators or their ass-kissers can receive awards or recognition.
  • If you are a man and you post an erotic poem, expect to be banned.
  • If you are a woman and post an erotic poem, expect to be named Poet Of The Month.
  • If you want people to comment on your work, you must kiss everyone else's ass.

Examples Of "Beautiful" Poetry[edit]

She traces my ironies in the air with 
a meatball skewered upon the end of 
her fingertips, tempting me to taste lips 
film with thick Swedish goo, as a child's love 

To test the limit of life's characters 
a rich play of such passionate undertones 
in this small Italian cafe, lover's with dark 
eyes warmed in wide flickers of candle-glow 

As the heart maybe taken more readily 
than the still-life body, wrought to swallow 
the sustainment of all this company 
of polite society, only a hand allows 

to be swept into shades, two hearts alone 
street, only a kiss away from home.
In the sheer weightlessness of a rogue slipstream 
Ethereals float, dive and play life games 
Shapes form and dissolve into otherbeings

We are the freedoms of form and sound

We gather in atmospheres all over the universe

Following the call of pure imagination imagery

Our existence flirts with reality

but we are part of a great symphony

We play the part of the seeing eye

We were born as a prelude to life

And have become a part of its background

Soothing all with our nonmusic

Let me play a tune of imagery for you

Feel the pure resilience of rebirth shapes

Play with me the notes of power and weakness

For all that can be will sound the mind

Join my symphony and life form change

Learn to sing as the birds freedoms true wild call
Synopsis.

A member of an alien race
I mingle with the populace.
There's not a lot of difference
except I have an extra sense.

I can read minds quite easily
and what I learn displeases me.
Few care about their fellow man.
Most do not give a tinkers damn.

Soon I must submit my report
I've given it a lot of thought,
I do not think the human race
is ready yet to take its place.

In the stellar community.
They have not reached maturity
They're well developed technically
but are retarded morally.

It makes me sad but it is true.
They are not as yet ready to
be considered civilized.
They have not even recognized.

That they are kept in quarantine.
Just as they have always been.
By races wiser far than they
who make quite sure that they can't stray.

From their small island galaxy
to spread their brand of anarchy
at will across the universe.
I can imagine nothing worse.

Perhaps I have been here too long.
I must admit I could be wrong
I see them as a hopeless case.
A fierce barbarian warlike race.

Another thousand years or so.
Might be enough to let them grow
beyond their adolescent stage
their flashes of insensate rage.

If they are thwarted in their aims
Like children play their nasty games.
I think that we should leave them be
continue watching carefully.

For any shred of evidence to show
they've learnt sufficient sense.
To treat each other honestly
communicating mentally.

Although they broadcast and receive
they can't control it. I believe
that their aggression stems from fear
Which hopefully will disappear

when they can use telepathy.
Communicating openly.
Its been a strange experience
to realize the difference.

Between races who cannot lie
and men who lie instinctively.
My tour of duty's nearly done
and very soon I will be gone.

Back to where thoughts flow mind to mind
and leave this wretched world behind.
Although they have my sympathy.
It can't come fast enough for me.

See Also[edit]

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