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:

Pensioner Country

I remember a time
Not so long ago
When you frightened me so
The aged and infirm
A constant reminder, always on show,
Of the path that my life would eventually go,
Wrinkles and dribbles confirm,
The way I’d eventually go.
A face wreathed in anger
Always it seemed
In consternation, I never dreamed
That you were just this side of crying,
From the path that your life had taken,
Your bones old and swollen and shaken,
I’m sure now that I’m not mistaken
Deep inside darlin’ you’re crying.
Crying inside with gasps and gulps
Over a youth that is past,
Now it’s too late to grasp
The mistakes that you made.  Oh, you’d rip them to shreds,
Given half the chance
For that one right romance
Bathed in moonlight, a Fred Astaire dance
But no, you’re in hospital beds.
So long is your life!
Wracked with both death and grief
And a hardened, firm belief
That you’re just a burden and a pain
When from your book, youth should take a leaf
But they won’t, for a jar’s where you keep your teeth,
Yes, you’ve a hardened, all-knowing belief
That life would be better insane.
Well, I changed my mind,
Do you know what I see?
A proud human being, a hand on life’s key,
A person who was all they would need to be,
There’s the road darlin’, come take my hand,
I’ll hold your hand so you don’t feel the pain
Of that walk down the road.  Do you want to complain?
If you’re mouldy or infirm or justly insane
I’ll speak loudly so you can hear
      - I understand..

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