poetry critical

online poetry workshop

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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!

Random Poem:

Neuropsychopharmacology
9

Some mornings I wake up wondering
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if I'll have Cocoa Krispies or Frosted Flakes,
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coffee, tea or soda,
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or if there's gonna be some kind of life after death.
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Some days I contemplate the plausibility of a universal truth
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under the influence of said breakfast cereal sugar/caffeine high.
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And sometimes I feel close to figuring 'things' out.
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Ha ha ha.
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But then something happens - some kind of existential fog rolls in
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and I'm as clueless as a teenage girl smoking grass,
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thumbing through a brit-pop magazine
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in the back of a Burger King parking lot on a school day.
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Anyway, I leave the house and stop at the Dairy Queen on the corner,
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order a large Butterfinger Blizzard®
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and sit next to an old Native American looking man on a bright red bench.
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He's drinking alkaline mineral water from a bottle,
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staring, with eyes closed, into the white light of a winter sun.
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He turns to me and says,
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in that slow lilting voice that Native Americans sometimes have,
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"Everybody  knows  everything.
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They  just  lie  to  themselves  to  different  degrees."
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He waits for a reply, but I don't have one to give.
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I toss the rest of my ice cream in a bright red garbage receptacle.
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"Thank you!" I say.
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I return home to fix a salad, steam some vegetables
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and dump a pot of coffee and half a gallon of rocky road into the sink.
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I sit on the sofa, rub my dog's tummy with floppy sock feet
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and listen to the beautiful serenity seep into my mind and body.
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And just like that, I'm sound asleep.
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Asleep because there's no more mental chatter,
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no more neurons overloading synapses with endless questions, anxieties
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and high fructose corn syrup.
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And, because I just realized today
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everybody knows everything.
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