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:

when mudpies tasted good

I knew you back when
I could burp
and you’d laugh and call it cute
When boys had cooties
(everyone but you)
When I said I’d never shave my legs
and that makeup was for girly-girls
and that surely wouldn’t be me
I had better things to think about
- like where my Carebear bandaids were
to cover the scrapes on both my knees
Sticks and stones couldn’t break my bones
for nothing bad could last
but laughter was immortal
was immortal
Destinations just over the hilltop were always found
with GI Joes marching next to me
trailing Barbies behind them
(blonde bombshell hostages)
-Who cares about a Barbie beach house now?-
I knew you before
at a time when socks didn’t have to match
and I was cool
because I made the best mudpies around
and beat  all the boys in every race
But aren’t I much too young
to keep one foot in the past?
Because now that I think of it
my socks still don’t match
and Barbie’s still now cool
   the only difference is that now
   I can see past the mudpies, burps, bruised knees and cooties
       and somehow,
       The mudpies just don’t taste so good anymore.

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