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:


i see tetrahedrons
effectively drawn
in space with beams of light
detailing, silently, the sacred
geometry of Life
when quietly, a ghost sneaks up
behind me and recites
a new theory for science to
violently re-write
and mask the truths with sugar coated candy (not unlike the Preists
buried all the truths under the wooden cross and parted sea)
and i tell the ghost that i
believe he's right.
he is sucked by vacuum to sky i go back
to studying the light.
i see the Fibonacci Spiral
and mathematically evaluate God;
the angels say the numbers are a little off
and therefore wrong.
as i
dig for an eraser to recalculate,
my fingers cross;
and suddenly, all that has been found,
is lost.
with one subconscious wish
(i consciously was unaware i did)
i rid myself of all knowledge
and all memory of being taught it.
i now remember nothing
of Earth or anybody on it,
and i vomit up the toxins left
in my stomach deposit,
so i kneel down to investigate
what my body has denied.
knowing not of Good or Bad,
i see pure beauty in the slime.
i see the precious, dissipated
acid-covered fruits of life
and swallow it, again;
instinctive choice.
knowing not of Good or Bad,
i am neither nauseous
nor rejoiced.
i see the blades of grass dance
and i know not of the wind,
so in my mind they dance for me
and i begin to dance for them.
i see the water in the ocean
reaching out for me.
knowing not of logic, i can hear it clearly sing in breeze
and i understand the language used and means
for which it speaks.
i sing back to it
in a higher pitch
and a
rhythmic rhyme
then i take off all my clothes
and give them
the tide.
i see my naked body glowing white
under the moon
and i know not of the Ego
but i smile like i do.
if you could see me now, what would you think?
why am i nude?
why am i dancing? singing?
why am i not you?

(comment on this poem)