poetry critical

online poetry workshop

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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!

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:

Hi Mom, Dad.
unknown

1
 1
 
 
Hi Mom, Dad.
 2
It's me, Eliot,
 3
a 34-year-old
 4
bank robber
 5
retrieval specialist man
 6
without a girlfriend
 7
or any prospects of saying
 8
'I do'
 9
anytime soon;
 10
Please, visit anytime.
 11
 
 
"Spit it out, drama queen," she
 12
nodded, crossing her arms.
 13
Parker was always
 14
the sensitive one.
 15
 
 
Eliot's usual detour to
 16
the kitchen for a beer
 17
or a soda
 18
or to look at the
 19
game of hockey
 20
on the large, paneled screen
 21
instantly met tragic death
 22
at the blades of a ceiling fan.
 23
 
 
"I'm guessing you
 24
and your parents
 25
don't get along," her casual
 26
looks loaded with backstory.
 27
 
 
"Eliot
 28
you're also a con artist," she yawned,
 29
"So run a con."
 30
 
 
 
 
2
 31
 
 
When his mother smiled
 32
congenially saying,
 33
"You look the same
 34
as six years ago,
 35
Lovebirds!"
 36
 
 
His father
 37
ground his teeth
 38
and coughed.
 39
"You better get us home
 40
in time for lunch."
 41
 
 
Parker raised her eyebrows
 42
and stage-whispered behind her hand,
 43
"It's a little early for us, but
 44
offer our guests
 45
a drink."
 46
 
 
She informed Eliot
 47
'acting naturally' was the game
 48
with a slow thumbs-up.
 49
 
 
Eliot didn't point out to his mother
 50
it had been eight years
 51
not six.
 52
 
 
 
 
3
 53
 
 
In his apartment,
 54
playing happy, normal couple,
 55
and possibly cooking,
 56
nothing scared Eliot.
 57
 
 
Parker dragged a fingernail
 58
down his cheek
 59
her knuckles turning white.
 60
Simple purple top, worn jeans,
 61
no shoes,
 62
and he had to remember she
 63
wasn't really so
 64
cookie-cutter.
 65
 
 
"I'm impressed, Eliot.
 66
It's clean,
 67
it's decorated." His Dad's eyes
 68
drifted over top the magazine
 69
to the way her hair
 70
was pulled back
 71
in its usual curly ponytail.
 72
 
 
"See, Dad.
 73
I'm not a complete loser."
 74
 
 
"Anybody can work
 75
power tools," he commented
 76
turning his attention
 77
to the tongue-and-groove cabinet
 78
in the corner.
 79
 
 
 
 
4
 80
 
 
Later on she said:
 81
"There's something wrong
 82
with you."
 83
 
 
Parker jumped when
 84
he let out a barking laugh.
 85
 
 
"But --" she whispered,
 86
"your dad's kind of a jerk, though."
 87
 
 
In that moment Eliot wished
 88
he could tell himself that
 89
 
 
she was the one
 90
for him.
 91

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