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:


When I dive deep
To knock on the cell door of the Wild Woman
for a dance -
To see her face
To stroke her cheek
To rest in Her
To rest and weep from fatigue
because the road to her within myself
still littered with patriarchal debris,
begs too much labour
before I can brave bringing out the red tent
All at once the Goddess speaks
aloud again just when
I nearly cowered into the background,
Instructing me to speak my hesitant truths
love my imperfect loves
And promises me that if I just keep walking
for fear of flight
and softly singing to myself
for being weary of the hostile stage,
We will turn a cell into a room -
A prison built in the darkness of injustice
will transform into a dance floor
magically lit
music inspired by childhood belief in our magic,
tempered, tortured & traitored by a patriarchy
shaken by fear of our power
Powered by the might of intimidated ignorance
but no longer holding the key to our cells.
She implores us, the roused, to be rowdy
And rumble our sisters in symbolic chains to action
Cheek to the ground for the Great Mother’s kiss,
Ear to the ground for the sound of the cries of those sisters
silently bound by real shackles and lies.
Sleeping women are waking and making
their way to the
Dance Floor
Red Tent
Body of water
Circle of fire
Clearing in the forest
to chant and celebrate
the mountains that’s started to move,
ready to bury in its wake
all that went before
giving birth to fertile soil
which will grow the New Way
As the Great Spirit Mother intended.

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