Current Stats
- poems: 42,940 (7,743 active)
- comments: 291,737
- ratings: 106,450
- average rating: 7.4
- forum posts: 238,876
- users: 9,516 (118 active)
- current users: 0
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Welcome!
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!
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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:
Random Poem:
| Natalie |
PeaceNik
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She sees beauty in everyday things, | 1 |
Like dusk-fallen skies and rust-eaten sheds, | 2 |
She sees light in the sight of decay, | 3 |
And marvels at the start of every new day, | 4 |
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And she finds time, | 5 |
Even when she feels the wet on her cheeks, | 6 |
To chase trains, | 7 |
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Who could explain the feelings she feels, | 8 |
When picking through paper and cellophane reels, | 9 |
Or the pounding her heart can't contain, | 10 |
With arms flung wide open to receive the rain, | 11 |
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But she finds time, | 12 |
Even when she feels her face turning gray, | 13 |
To chase trains, | 14 |
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And folks all inquire, | 15 |
In their homes they conspire, | 16 |
As to what sort of young woman, | 17 |
Finds peace on the tracks, | 18 |
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Among warped wooden planks, | 19 |
And overgrown banks, | 20 |
With Fireflies to greet her, | 21 |
When night turns pitch black, | 22 |
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She sees you, | 23 |
Just a face in the crowd, | 24 |
When you thought you had gone, | 25 |
She calls you right out, | 26 |
And she offers a soft-spoken word, | 27 |
That ideas are golden, | 28 |
You're not the others, | 29 |
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And please find time, | 30 |
Even when you feel the wet on your cheeks, | 31 |
To chase trains. | 32 |
(comment on this poem) |
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