Poetry critique thread
Please don't just post your work, also include a critique if you can.
Along the edge of any garden
you may spot the worms at work
They dig and shit sleeplessly
and hear your stepping
when you let your toes tamp the soil
And know toiling worms will die
Like their mothers who sadly were
split by a shovel
Dirty your pantlegs to smell worm shit
and pack it round a flower
Worms know well before early birds eat
we are bound to shovel
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That gif a cute. I feel much better now
GN frens
A+
The profanity ruins it
Does it?
This is pretty poor to the point that it doesn't feel like a genuine, serious attempt.
Words bump into each other clumsily. The cadence is all off. The message is fairly trite. Weak repetition of "shovel".
Also worms don't really "dig" as such.
And you can spot worms in places that aren't the edges of gardens.
I'll fix it for you
"Along even garden edges
spot the worms at work
They dig without sleep
and hear your steps
Let your toes tamp the soil
Where toiling worms die
Like their mothers sadly
split
by shovels
Dirty your hands to smell worm earth
and pack it round a flower
Worms know well before early birds eat
we're earth-bound to grovel"
"even" sounds like "eden", the story of the garden of which ties better to the ending of the poem.
The word sadly feels out of place.
Don't tell me what to feel, make me!
This is a vast improvement.
Not much else to critique in this thread. Just cooked this up.
Vanity resides over the vanity
Where I flex and wish for a change in winds
Casually question my sanity
Undeserved narcissism the first of my sins
Closed fist over checklist
Got those fingers raised for each of my wins
Interests remain interests
Misretention of my intentions
Sounds fucking grandiose man
Paranoia poking through the whole atop your throat man
Kinda gross to try to use your mental state to gloat man
But throw me out a ring and I'ma climb aboard the boat man
Lean against the railings
Contemplate the rope toss
Moral systems failing
Chernobyl in the BIOS
Could be you they're hailing
You want to be the big boss?
Suck up sucker
(need any help?)
Sorry Sir, just searching for a soap box
Dabbling in deities
Take something away from me
Believer-heathen humour me
Needing reasons tumour me
Battling complacency
Motivation stations ace
Maybe it's my fate to wait
Fuck it I'll just masturbate
Sounds super productive man
Auto-erotic menne fatale quit being so seductive man
Keep following this path and hope that soon it turns destructive man
Maybe then you'll pen some shit that's seen as quite instructive man
Drooling on the paper
Contemplate the pill drop
Time to meet your maker
Well, he threw you in a crock pot
Thoughts all turn to vapour
Transcendence free with this lot
Suck up sucker
(need any help?)
Sorry Sir, just searching for a soap box
Prelude
Adagio molto e cantabile
On clingweed rime ripped slide;
fish-raised, beach flea'd, recessed
by grinding mares; I spied
from my groutspat sea rest,
a tangled joust of beak,
fin, sail - my wormsieved breast
strident with hoof-bridge creak,
gulled pipe, hissed inglegloats;
the piebald pitch and reek
of saltwhisked chorused throats
subdued by dark sweet flocks
and bloodless, starstill floats -
the quivering shim shocks
of barnacle goose shrine,
scuttled for brevinox.
Impelled and soused on brine,
raptured by whitebait sun,
I guzzled jollying shine
across my bleached honey-dun
dome; silenced jets of cape
spinarcing, and unspun,
in the blue oared agape,
toward whipped, plunging trove
and Neptune's surging shape,
his gnarled signature wove
across the sog silver pearl,
razor-speak shells and frothed cove,
in perched blots; his blind whorled
trident cleft the bore-sink,
bilged out this neckbreak knurl -
I knelt to dumbly drink
the cutthroat wine, and scrawl
against the looming brink.