poetry critical

online poetry workshop

Current Stats
  • poems: 47,325 (8,948 active)
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  • average rating: 7.5
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Welcome to Poetry Critical, an online poetry workshop. To post your own poetry you'll need to create a user id by typing a name and password in the box above and hitting 'New User'. If you just want to critique or jump into the discussion, however, you can go ahead and get started!

Poetry Critical 2.0

Hey guys, Donald here.

In a few weeks, this site will be 9 years old. 9 years! And I still know some of the earliest submissions by heart.

But, boy. That’s like 102 in web-years. So it’s time for something new. I’m building that something now with my nights-and-weekend minutes (and plenty of coffee). Buy me a cup?

Development updates from Twitter:

Follow @poetrycritical for more!

Random Poem:

it lasted about a month

In the third grade
we were going over N, E, S and West in Mr. Simser’s class
when she came in and called my name,
Mrs. Baum was the guidance counselor
we went to her office in the back of the library
she asked questions about mom and dad and
“how was I feeling?”
the next day after school mom and dad picked me up,
they were dressed in nice clothes
“don’t worry”, mom said, “just a checkup with the doctor”.
We didn’t go to the clinic,
but to some office behind my dentist
a man in a suit with a warm voice asked me some questions
then he talked to mom and dad
and then all of us together.
On the way home we stopped at Target and dad bought a football
he started taking me out in the backyard in the evening
we’d toss it back and forth while he told me how they
didn’t have sports when he was a kid
because everyone was busy working on the farm,
he’d ask about my day
and what we were studying in class.
I knew the only reason he was doing it
was because of something I’d said to the man in the suit,
I didn’t know what it was but
I didn’t want to say the wrong thing to dad
because I was afraid he would stop coming into the backyard
with me.
Sometimes he would smile if I threw it over his head,
and sometimes
when mom called us in for dinner
he would put his hand on my shoulder while we walked up the steps.

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