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:

With my Father, age 11

When I am eleven and studying
The United State capitals
my father creeps into the kitchen
aimless and glue-eyed
his paper brown hands carefully
cradling his coffee mug
like a small tortured bird.
He sits beside me at the table
says grandpa once worked in Delaware
in a small shoe factory
where the cold oiled machines
broke down easily
and each shoe was hand stitched
by old immigrant men
who missed their families
and the rich colors
of their country’s sunset.
When my father was eleven
he knew his father
like I know my father:
heavy-hearted, an arm’s width
through the ten-minute drive home
from softball games
and the occasional favor
of pulling a loose baby tooth.
When I am eleven
my father sits beside me at the table
and somewhere between Boston and Hartford
he softly apologizes for the divorce
and not trying harder
his words spill over me
warm and bitter from his coffee
he tells me he will miss our family
and I think of my grandfather
heavy-hearted, an arm’s width,
an immigrant without a country.

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