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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:
|Funeral Song, I Wish I Could Sing|
The sorrow of a soul cannot be rushed,
no more than the sun can be cajoled
to early rise.
When a lover passes on,
Grief takes a moment
to open her arms,
like a mother
with a child,
waking you slowly.
Grief visits you in waves,
washes you in clouds of memory,
each one shining and alone,
passing by as if you dreamed them.
A year and a half is the end of the sad story,
all psychiatrists say - by then
it's nearly over and Grief no longer
Ah, you are not crazy if you still mourn -
the sun will rise,
this too shall pass,
Grief does move on.
(comment on this poem)