poetry critical

online poetry workshop

Current Stats
  • poems: 45,933 (9,176 active)
  • comments: 307,671
  • ratings: 112,176
  • average rating: 7.5
  • forum posts: 247,424
  • users: 10,006 (118 active)
  • current users: 1

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:

bare feet
azalea

and if the sun ever did
 1
peek through the honey-dipped rooftops again
 2
 
 
and make her cheeks shine in sweet tea sweat and
 3
her stray strands of hair dance like candle flames,
 4
like the kind of beauty she had in the fourth grade
 5
that could never be found in a bottle,
 6
 
 
i might finally be able to sigh
 7
and fall back right here, right now, in this skin,
 8
tilt my face up to the dying sky
 9
and let the rain drip muddy mascara
 10
across my face.
 11
 
 
because otherwise it's hard to tell what beauty really is.
 12
 
 
that day, in that sun,
 13
she looked like an angel
 14
and while we were perched on her front porch
 15
she told me that stars were like fireflies.
 16
well, i've saved stars from that night
 17
in a small glass jar and i'm hoping that someday
 18
when i can finally show her
 19
they won't be just be a mirage
 20
of something that died years ago.
 21
 
 
that day on her porch, she laughed
 22
when i told her that i liked the
 23
complementing colors of you and me.
 24
i remember thinking that you'd probably laugh too
 25
because you never did have a way
 26
with paint or colored pencils.
 27
 
 
and sometime in the mist of midnight
 28
i drained my heart out to a stranger
 29
on her bedroom floor
 30
because i figured that he'd understand me better
 31
than anyone who had ever known me as myself,
 32
and between carpet stains and torn tissues
 33
where i had nothing to hide
 34
i was right.
 35
 
 
now i feel like i'm playing with fire
 36
because my words tend to tangle and trip themselves
 37
and i've ended up too many times
 38
with my nose burried
 39
in the concrete.
 40
 
 
but i've burned candles
 41
drank sweet tea
 42
counted stars
 43
found redemption in a puddle at my feet
 44
 
 
and decided that the only love
 45
is a stranger on her bedroom floor
 46
and a painting that will never be painted
 47
and wild, raw summer beauty
 48
like the kind she once had
 49
when we were just girls catching fireflies
 50
on our palms.
 51

(comment on this poem)


0.262s