poetry critical

online poetry workshop

Current Stats
  • poems: 48,930 (6,391 active)
  • comments: 313,625
  • ratings: 115,795
  • average rating: 7.6
  • forum posts: 225,049
  • users: 10,146 (92 active)
  • current users: 7


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!

Random Poem:

mispellings of the wind

if i were myself right now
i'd probably be underneath the traffic.
not that i am chirped out in suicide,
just can't trumpet this blues,
jus of wine
i am red meat dined upon
blind locust of life,
not that there is sense in this- or that.
i held you in my arms too long
that you were dust by morning,
had to vacuum you up.
felt sorry for the carpet.
was left in mourning.
the irony of daylight is palpable,
it leeches from my thoughts,
not daylight nor even irony,
but the odd toss in turn.
you grave to me a wooden
suit so that i could wear this world
on my sleeves, but all i could do was spin
in it, and that grew more tiresome than
the leaves dangling from my ears.
my solar plexus- i don't know what that is,
you said it was mighty...i knew you weren't
talking soul (trash) but someone who smiles
punk will never see the comedy of love,
only the faint whispers of its threnody,
that i have left you is the only cry-
   remains long in the wind--
does not die like me, this thing of
burst balloons and scattered petals.
& i may have looked for you in the
muted screams of a tyre print,
or read your mind in the imprint
of sand to shoe,
but the wind has come before me,
and will again for you.

(comment on this poem)