poetry critical

online poetry workshop

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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:

Follow @poetrycritical for more!

Random Poem:

blue dream

Rock mics instead of saying prayers
paper take a tear
Write rhymes and cut skunk
to stay in chairs
Bass snare is all I need,
one five and thirteen
Tore the pockets and its seams
lost a dime in the jeans
Loose weight, light loot and a loop break
Ends kickd lens flip on the zoot, take
No stars at the party lose a heart and come back
Melting frosty almost lost me at the start of the map
Cross tees like
magnets to right
Vanish from sight
Phantoms flows
Blowing ghosts like a dragon in flight
rappers taking cannibal bites
Can’t hold the mic,
like swatting at intangible light
Can’t hold ends if im tryna catch a sandwich and cyphe
And have funds to treat her nice and take her back for the night
But that’s just the life
i didn’t know that rhyming was cash
Till the tracks burnt a hole in my pocket so bad
Its like tryna sell your soul when it’s all that you have
And investing in the time you spent to buy it all back
It’s like pushing on consignment with the prices in half
Cuz if your sales go up by four then you could double your stash
See I was tryna sell raps now im tryna sell jazz
Cuz when they aint buying grass then its time to sell hash
But even on the gas yo that cash aint mine
Owe it back to the grind it’s the tax of time
Crazy debt and bet its always better in the cranium
Moms built his head said remember what im sayin son
Work until you can’t and never be afraid of them
I got lost on the path now im tryna find my way again
Rock mics instead of thinking bout
what it means to be without you
And I write rhymes instead of drinking down
all the dreams my ink has drowned blue
And I just wanna help my family
Gotta be strong to swallow all my selfish vanity
Rock mics and run away but couldn’t melt reality
if a push and sell mentality  wouldn’t help humanity
then what if writing rhymes could ease the pressure
if I could spread peace through measures in time I could speak it better
see for better or for worse the world doesn’t work around verse
there doesn’t seem to be a purpose for words
theyre simply curves on the circle of the universe
in which everything that’s natural occurs
and it seems, the closer I look, the more that it blurs
its like loving something so much that it hurts
and trust that its worth,
even pain
I pray,
just to dream and maintain
sleeping through rain,
whispers seep through my brain
colors bleed as they change,
love grows and flows with heat through the veins
hunting for women like pussy keeps me sane
rolling green, writing hooks,
making sense to the beat in my chest
texting spliffies and biddies
passing secrets to the left
it’s deep, on nights alone I could hear it like breath
feel the dreams of life while sleeping to death

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