poetry critical

online poetry workshop

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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:

Just a little every day.

I am floating through your living room
just a witness to this place
with not a soul to call my home.
You people keep on breaking my heart every day.
Which you justify as okay,
because it’s based on
your morals,
your beliefs,
your whatever's,
but more and more
it kills me,
just a little every day.
I am walking around half alive
because of the judgment I receive
from day to day.
It’s become so much a part of you
that you don’t realize you’re doing it
but I can feel it scorching in my chest.
You call me your friend
but really we are just a lion and a hyena
sharing the same territory.
Is it really so wrong to love a lily,
when everybody else loves a rose?
You say that it is, but I say that it isn’t.
We are the opposite ends of a magnet,
just pushing each other back.
If this were a song
I'd scream it in your face,
or blast it through these halls
so you'd have no choice but to hear it.
Though I know deep down that if I did
you wouldn't really be listening anyway.
I want you to feel the way I do.
I'd like to physically tear away the skin from
from your upper body
and dig my fingers into
your heart before I rip it out of your chest.
I’d love to force you to walk my steps
for just one day.
'Cause that would be all it'd take
for me to get an apology from you,
a hug,
and what I seek most of all,
the understanding which I know
is impossible for you to achieve.
I hate the way you judge me,
how you ask me
for reasons why I love whom I love.
I'd like to ask you the same question.
I know you couldn't answer.
It's just something you feel.
You shouldn't even ask,
but you always will,
and I guess I will too.
I want to say fuck you
to the world,
to every you from now on
that I ever regretfully meet,
but I hold a heavy heart
and I'm dragging my feet
because my love holds me back,
makes me vulnerable and feeble.
I hate that I ever loved you at all.
And even more that I love you still.
I am back to being in fourth grade again
When I wouldn't trust a soul
until she came along
beating down my walls for years and years
until tears fell to the ground.
I feel as if I'm on an escalator
going the wrong way
and I'm never going to get
anywhere or any place.
I am just the symbol of a dream, which you lost.
I know you feel as if the person you remember
has died.
But though I'm still not a person to you anymore,
I never had my funeral.
Your eyes burn through me
like a cigarette lighter branding my skin.
I can feel it's sting go straight to my heart.
I can sense your resentment,
your anger,
your blame
and it all hits me like a target in the chest.
I know it just comes from your hurt.
But I hurt a thousand times worse
than you ever could from this.
You never think about that though,
do you?
There was a time when you cared,
when you loved me sincerely and
more than anything.
We both thought it went deep enough
that nothing I ever said or did
would ever change it.
You refuse to remember that now,
but I know deep down you do.
A part of you hates me,
for taking your baby away,
but you loved me first,
you loved me once.
Don't you remember anymore?

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