poetry critical

online poetry workshop


My life was like a flawless,
shimmering glass
representation of hope. And then
it fell to the cracked ground,
shards of my true self
becoming red diamonds as they
exploded onto my flesh.
I had always been a bug
crushed beneath a mechanical anvil,
fake and metallic,
now exposed, this emotionless
thrashing lab that they
stabbed me upon over the years,
their goal to take whatever
they could steel—
genuine insignificant blood began to
squeeze through the crevices
of my bitter and supposed
paranoid understanding;
trying to conform to this new mold
but unable to, effort meaningless,
my own insistence to justice
just strapped and unmovable—
I wasn't ready
the day they told me
I wasn't real,
a digital bag of nothing
except for hardwired decisions—
a computer, now worthless and

10 Apr 09

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I see the circuitous way you've blended this into the crashed fragments left of you as you do in the last strophe making it plain that your virtual reality has had a fatality -- nevertheless listen to this as you speak it along in a song with internal sonics 'n ironics moved by your story-teller pen again 'n again and then write it as you sing it

nice to see you back listen

Music begins to atrophy when it departs too far from the dance... poetry begins to atrophy when it gets too far from music. -- Ezra Pound
 — AlchemiA

thanks AlchemiA. it's good to know you're still around.
 — listen

your insight is good
and you also are
good because you wrote
a good poem.
 — unknown


: )
 — fractalcore

this is really good-
I especially like lines 5-7
nICE lee dunn
 — JKWeb

thanks everyone, for reading this. always appreciated.
 — listen

Another good one, listen.  You have a knack of blending in subtle metaphors to what could be taken as literal--if you know what I mean.  You're voice is unique--the mark of a good writer.
 — PaulS

thanks Paul.
 — listen

for picking up on that, as well. it is true indeed, and i do know what you meant by that. good to know it works.
 — listen