poetry critical

online poetry workshop

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Welcome!

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:

The I-5 Bridge
Verdana

Over the I-5 bridge
 1
I see the world rushing out from beneath
 2
My feet, like an ocean and I learned
 3
That this is what an eternity looks like.
 4
 
 
I fell in love with her as the sun
 5
Melted into the horizon and the days slowly
 6
Grew longer- she eats strawberries
 7
The whole year round because they remind her
 8
Of the way the sun hits the sky with a splashing crushing
 9
Madness, like a fire-filled inferno slipping
 10
Down into the cracks between the mountains. Her
 11
Fingers curled around mine the way
 12
That ferns curl around themselves in the winter, slowly
 13
Learning to unfurl as the summer moves on, she
 14
Pulled my fingers out of the tight curled ferns
 15
They had been and she wrapped them softly around
 16
Her own, I learned the meaning of the words
 17
Fragility
 18
Futility
 19
And other F words I hadn’t known were so tangible
 20
Until just then.
 21
 
 
The concrete over the bridge is cracked and
 22
Mutilated, as if by the fist
 23
Of a giant, moving his arms down swiftly in protest
 24
Calling out to the cars below “please
 25
Stop. The movement is too much, the curling
 26
And rushing, the wind that blows up onto the bridge
 27
When the trucks move too quickly below, just barely
 28
Grazing the lowest portions of the bottom, testing
 29
The limits of the sky like young birds- make
 30
It stop”. I empathize
 31
With this urge for a sedentary world that holds you
 32
Like quick sand- solid and stationary, I want a world
 33
I can drown in. So I hold my hands tightly on the edge of
 34
The bridge and I gaze over thinking
 35
That to jump would be an adventure,
 36
An exercise in finding the bottom
 37
Of everything.
 38
 
 
She peeled my hands off the edge of that rail
 39
And let my fingers extend in the sun
 40
Like the petals on a tulip, I bloomed
 41
In a sense as I found myself around her. She’s just
 42
So graceful, a leaf fluttering down
 43
From the periphery of my vision and
 44
Into the sunlight. Her skin is the beautiful combination
 45
Of milk and honey and softness like a doll
 46
She’s just so damn fragile. Crashing down
 47
Like a wave to the shore
 48
The summer ended abruptly and she wrapped her body
 49
Back around itself, curled my fingers
 50
Back into my palm—volvemos.
 51
 
 
And as the summer slowly turned to fall
 52
I learned to do the more dangerous things—
 53
The driving the drinking the smoking and
 54
I saw a man jump off the edge of the bridge (no,
 55
Man is the wrong word, he
 56
Barely had his beard coming in, his
 57
Shoes were like boats at the bottom of sticklegs
 58
And they looked like little, shiny houses
 59
When they lay upside down on the street, the cars
 60
All piled up together and the sidewalk radiating
 61
Pain) and the world cried that day
 62
In a flowing ocean of despair and I cried
 63
With the world—remembering the freedom that it was
 64
To find the summer
 65
On those last bits of pavement that his eyes
 66
Ever saw. I only wish
 67
I could have left them more beautiful.
 68
 
 
And so it’s over the I-5 bridge that I think
 69
This, right here, this
 70
Is what saved me—to learn
 71
What eternity looks like.
 72

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