poetry critical

online poetry workshop

Current Stats
  • poems: 48,837 (6,523 active)
  • comments: 309,316
  • ratings: 115,002
  • average rating: 7.5
  • forum posts: 224,678
  • users: 10,172 (85 active)
  • current users: 3


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!

Random Poem:

a focused state

aligning the squares of papers
in little perfect piles
of one and two, three, and four,
not five, it doesn't get along
placing the poker chips
red white white white red blue
he sits and with a furrowed brow
works diligently until
he sees it through
reaching into the box
a chubby little hand
fingers bent at odd angles shake
a shriek unexpected erupts
poker chips have gotten ascue
sending them in a windfall of clatter
red white and blue circles
are thoroughly scattered
the rocking begins and
he will not be consoled
he was so close to
making them just right
his lovely pattern of
red white white red blue
now was in chaos and thus
he was in a state
one indeed begets the other
I could feel his frustration
climbing like an old wooden roller coaster
click click click higher and higher
I moved very slowly to not alert him
slipping the cushion between
the floor and his head
pleased with my timing
as the familiar hated sound
began right at that moment
his head hitting the floor
over and over it literally
hurt to listen to it
"Yes, yes I see... it is ruined,I will sit with you awhile longer.
I will wait while you put them in your order.
We have time, and I am sure you remember how they go.
Was it red white red blue blue? I forget……."
Head stops banging on the green cushion on linoleum
eyes open and with no more than a single blink
tears are gone and he is again...in a focused state
red white white white red blue
red white white white red blue
"I will put them straight.
red white white white red blue."
slowly fingers open and shaking
he begins again as this
is what we do
"I think you're doing a really great job,
I like the white white white."
He looks at me as though
he is looking right through to something so
much more interesting
then softly and matter of fact says,
"yes white is friends with three,
they get along so nicely."
"oh," I said
"that makes a lot of sense."
and it did
I smiled wondering what five had done
as he didn't get along with anyone

(comment on this poem)