poetry critical

online poetry workshop


I love you
the sun is shining and lovely, warm.
I dream sometimes
but most times I just sit and wonder.
I hope your day is good.
One day years from now
we will sit together and have tea
and wonder why kisses feel so sweet
with cuddles

5 Oct 12

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this is funny to see, and can't really be critiqued as a poem, and it's nice to see here. it's almost exactly sincere, and maybe that's a hundred times more sincere than all the gothic twists and plastic ginsbarf odes posted post after post.

this fragments because there's no harmony between the three, only a shared idea that nice is a nice thing. to make it a poem, it has to have some rhetorical tension.

like, for stanza two:

but, most times i sit and wonder:
i dream sometimes...
i hope your day is good.

this maybe puts the voice into an inner and thoughtful mode, and what that means is that the reader can slip in and use some imagination to see who and what the poet is and is making of the world inside this poem. displaying feelings is fine, but an emotion comes when the reader sublimates all the feelings displayed into an their own world. true, one can say, 'it's just like that!', and maybe that's a happy-face poem. but, to show vulnerability is to help the reader say, 'ah, i remember just this in my own life', and is maybe more real as poetry. remember that there are people here -- and, not just twenty-something kids -- who have never really been in love and won't know self-less happiness when it smacks them in the face.
 — cadmium

Thankyou for the lovely critique!
 — unknown

I dream sometimes
but most times top buffets near me I just sit and wonder.
I hope your day is good
 — unknown

This is an amazing piece of poetry. The writer has described his feelings in some simple, and few lines. Of course, it is a very lovely feeling to have a kid, or an essayshark review from your loved ones. One day we will sit together and have tea, this line my top favorite because it describes the feeling of a wait. Thanks a lot for such interesting poetry once again.
 — unknown