poetry critical

online poetry workshop

Current Stats
  • poems: 45,745 (8,336 active)
  • comments: 307,121
  • ratings: 111,896
  • average rating: 7.5
  • forum posts: 247,083
  • users: 9,981 (129 active)
  • current users: 0


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:

Brightly Colored Cotton

The best nights of my life never involve clothes
It doesn’t matter the weather or season
We brave it all
Though those warm humid summer nights are preferred over those bitter winter night
So lets reveal it all
The pavement our stage and the streetlight our spotlight
We’ll unravel every bit of brightly colored cotton
Anticipation is overwhelming
Just waiting for that sudden rush
The burst of excitement that explodes within us
Like fireworks on the fourth of July
Our pre-excitement releases sudden fits of laughter
That are so contagious
Soon were teeming with short blasts of the giggles
But the fun is put on hold by a stubborn yellow shirt, for moment
A tangle of the limbs and cotton frantically struggle to escape each other
Until finally the last bit of brightly colored cotton has fallen to the ground
Not a word is spoken
Because now’s our chance
the coast is clear and all engines are revved and ready to go
Without hesitation eight bare bodies break lose onto the street
A flood of eight naked girls blaze the night
The smacking of out nude feet against the asphalt
Which fills the silent night with noise
Our exposed skin wiggles and jiggle as the moonlight bounces off our unsightly white skin  
Eight girls in the buff hooting and hollering for their no sense of liberation
And it feels so good as the midnight breeze caresses our birthday suits
And the asphalt dances with us as we feel so new and refreshed
Bright lights in the distance
And our marathon is abruptly stopped
Frozen like deer in far off yellow beams
Panic surges through every single one of our bare parts
In an instant eight naked girls bolt back in the direction of which they came from
In a hysterical hysteria we stampede to where our brightly colored cotton lie
Except our laughter slows us down
Because it is so hard to laugh and run simultaneously
But head lights are gaining and we don’t want to be caught
So our already racing hearts pump blood through my body even faster
Causing our legs to move even faster
And just in the nick of time we leap into the shadows
And the headlights only catch glimpses of our bare bodies

(comment on this poem)