POETRY CRITIQUE THREAD

Lets see em boys. You know the rules

This, I won’t share with anyone
Not a soul, not a single living breath will hear it
Because it hurts too much to think about,
To talk about and to feel
What I felt when you had said you loved me.

It was the first time you ever said it
And I had said it many more and meant it
I told you how I never once stopped thinking of you
And how I kept a heart shaped necklace you left
In my bedroom the first night I knew you.

We lost touch, most people do.
You found a guy who liked you too
I saw you at the fairgrounds with him
It hurt like hell, but you were happy then

Months later, after calling your disconnected phone 100 times
I finally figure out a way to contact you, through a mutual friend of mine
I was like a desperado, and you were my Aztec treasure
A friendship that should have never ended, a love without measure

And talk and talk we did, all through the night
Held the phone close and filled our ears with light
Sweet nothings that could only come from two lonely souls
Longing to be together again, a fire anew in the coals

I was looking forward to the day you would come back
We talked forever about that day, and how
In the cover of sheets, we would hold each other again
Discussing at what temperature our hearts would melt together
And leave puddles and stains in the linens

And it never happened. You never came.
I was so distraught, I cursed your name
I gave up on that town, I wouldn’t dare return
Never again, not without you there. Fuck it, let it burn.

So I joined the Navy, and I set my sights high
Told you all about it even though you would sigh
You told me, the day I graduated from that place
That you had a boyfriend, and that you would stay

In Hawaii, so far away, but still I kept
The idea of being together alive
And so I sweated and toiled, spoke daily with you
Until one fateful success, my dreams came true

(1/2)

(2/2)

My worked paid off and I was the top of my class
Picked submarine duty in the off chance
That it would send me to Hawaii to be with you
And thought of all the wonderful things we would do

It was there in my dorm that I told you about
How I kept your heart necklace you had lost around
The first time I traced a heart into your back
And whispered under the sound of the ocean “I love you”

But all things don’t last, and when we finally met again
Under volcano stars and sweaty palm trees
I finally told you, face to face
What you truly meant to me

It was love, it was pure, it was honest
The way our bodies melded in the forest
of desire in that state park honeymoon
the week went past, it was over too soon

But
I was betrayed
Your heart belonged to someone,
Someone who was not me
Somewhere across the sea

Each hour was a trial of fighting back the tears
Of a love that had been nurtured over ten long years
And in the cover of darkness I sped and flew away
To a cliff to see if today was my last day

I climbed over the railing but I couldn’t take the leap
My heart was pounding, but my body was weak
And so I did the only thing that would rid me of you
I took that heart shaped necklace and threw threw threw.

Poop in butt
Live in hut
Hunt shampoo
For clean the poo

Sinking just below my mountain.
Rising in the absence of light.
Watching over a shadowed fountain.
Caressed by the mistress night.
A silver kiss fills the sky.
You pretty sight don't say goodbye.

>Free verse.

Shit.
>Why?
Trite words and boring rhyme scheme. There's not much going on. Boring boring.

The rhyming seems sloppy without a set meter, that's just my opinion though. I feel like you could crunch that down to about four stanzas in free verse.

Once again, rhythm could be better. It's quite pretty though.
Passing By The Roslyn

Leaving footprints in what's left
of the late April snow;
Sunlight creeps over the
façade of a red apartment building.

So many things I wish I could have said,
with both our hearts succumbing to the frost,
these fond and cherished memories will die,
and never fail to tell me what I've lost.

If I was dead,
and my bones adrift
like dropped oars
in the deep, turning earth;

or drowned,
and my skull
a listening shell
on the dark ocean bed;

if I was dead,
and my heart
soft mulch
for a red, red rose;

or burned,
and my body
a fistful of grit, thrown
in the face of the wind;

if I was dead,
and my eyes,
blind at the roots of flowers,
wept into nothing,

I swear your love
would raise me
out of my grave,
in my flesh and blood,

like Lazarus;
hungry for this,
and this, and this,
your living kiss.

steep heavens climb
on your grin
they sunder the storm
of your chagrin grim
hungry eyes spiral
heavy sighs bind
im an april fool
but i can't seem to mind
bathing in the rain again

i swoon in her taught maw
crushing my riddled heart
blushing
squeezing the words out
still

blue sun
when you go deserting
carry that silk on your fangs
the refuse of our union

and in years ill be spilling over
onto a proud page that bleeds
before my love elopes
after the first hours recede
with my complacence

in moments of silence
crying the oil night
she burns averse

red nymphs streak
wanderlust quicksilver
to prey on pyreflies

those dreams of freedom
dancing in that autumn field

and so i am cresting
in winter skies of childhood

that last line kills me and not in a romantic way. less ABAB and more word play.

Its pretty ok. I feel like the individual stanzas are strong but the whole composition doesn't have alot of motion. It has no turn or kick and it's too long to be so linear. Mix it up a bit.

There's a blackbird in my heart that wants to get out
But I'm forced to restrain it
I say, stay in there, I can't let them see you
There's a blackbird in my heart that wants to get out
But I live vicariously through fantasies so that I never need to let him out
There's a blackbird in my heart that wants to get out
But I must hide him
I say, stay down, do you want everyone to know?
Do you want to end all hope?
Do you want to be known as just another lunatic?
There's a blackbird in my heart that wants to get out
But I still have control and only let him out when there's no one around for him to hurt
I say, be patient, your time will come then I put him back
But he's growing in there
He feasts on whatever he finds so he can't die
And we sleep
Both of us knowing the future is not bright
And it's scary enough to make a man go insane
But I'm not insane
Are you?

I'm rarely a fan of hanging lines but I like the flow. Pleasantly engaging. Dry ending liens are always my bias, so that probably counter balanced the hanging third for me.

So, It's not particularly bad but far too repetitive. The reiterated first line is fine but your word choice really needs to be more diverse. the concepts are fluid enough but the structure disrupts them. I like the last three liens and the general conclusion but, In my opinion, heavy editing is in order.

Can you tell me exactly what repetitions you found disrupting?

You say "let him out" at least twice and for 80% of the peice you're really just saying the same thing three times over. I'm looking through it again and really, the shift toward the end is the only thing i particularly like about it. the two lines

"There's a blackbird in my heart that wants to get out
But I still have control and only let
him out when there's no one around for him to hurt"

are probably the best example of the breaking. The word "out" is used way too much in general and it's even in your reiterated line so that compounds the effect. Find different ways to convey your meaning without the entire thing seeming stagnant drawn out. At least, that's what i would do.

Bukowski, much?

Yes.

Good work. Imagery is good. Boring destination, considering the structure it takes to get me there.

I feel like the second line ruins the flow of the poem, it's too long, feels a bit awkward. It seems that you need to push the poem past the cliches a bit to make it more interesting.


Cracked wings and broken teeth
Falcons can't hear
What falconers don't speak

Round the drunkards go,
Buzzards not far behind;
Leaders lead, workers woe:
Blind leading the blind.
Insipid procession of mankind,
Thoughtless drones, burning coals;
Heartless hogwash, keep in mind:
The parasitic trolls.

Blending in with the common,
Indulging in their outlets;
Hilarity ensues,
Upon laugh-less matters;
A disguised catharsis,
On unspoken ends.

I'm a traveler of faraway fields,
O Maiden, where be my shore?
The gods all cry out in unity:
"Young one, thee look no more!"
So long since smelling a flower,
So long since sitting in shade;
If only we knew, in the past:
That life itself shall fade.
...
And so I travel on unknowingly,
Over the red, hot, burning sun;
And so I travel on for centuries,
To reach my planet- none!

I laid in my room
When a fly appeared
and I caught it
With my bare hands

It fell on down,
And buzz-ed around
As if it was
In a trance.

It buzzed round, and around
The wooden floor-ed sea
Its incessant buzzing,
Had got me to cussing,
I put it out of its misery.

'Twas sad as sad could be.

I thought of the albatross,
and the snake;
And the evil choices,
That men hath make.

It lay there dead,
And motionless on the floor,
There was nothing to be done
Anymore

Did I give him another chance?
Did I do a favor for him?
But who gave us that power,
are we their gods?
Just because of our frame?

Liked the last 2 lines, how the guy was acting protective of himself. Personally I find the whole "hiding demons in me thing a bit cliché, but this is definitely a great attempt man.

The antiquated language isn't helping these

not bad desu, kinda comfy

I liked the story, but the recitation isn't that good man. Also, AWALT

An adjective before Sky please, like scarlet sky or something.

I didn't do that on purpose man, that's just how they came to me. Thanks for the input anyway. Anything else?

i broke my wings so now i walk

as if the ground feels like the sky

I don't think theres much to the planet one, its pretty boring, not much going on. The fly one feels too contrived, the literary references take me away from the poem. I found the last line interesting though, about the frame.

I don't know about it being contrived, because I actually did kill a fly and write this on the same day. Thanks anyway man.

Thank you

shit
shit p.2
shit
shit
shit
shit
okay, last stanza is shit
shit
shit
trite
shit
go back to 16 century, thou art faggot
shit

This guy is efficient. He produces so much and improves the productions of others so effortlessly...

Thru thick hickoree's cambered leaves,
Tasuke sank into the lake;
His footsteps whispered to the trees,
For he had other trips to make.
His robes were drenched, he hardly knew,
His brow was wet like a glass,
He was brushed and swung with wind blue,
While the bugs held ground by frass.
How proud a sun.
I
Upon the shining-season morn,
Tasuke sought a beastly friend;
Through a God given maze of corn,
Brown earth shed its flaky skin.
A cottonhead snake hissed its curse,
With its scales wet under kef.
Tasuke smiled and sung himself:
“In-and-in we are the reef.”
The vines braided.

Rate the first part of my ballad

YAAAWN
Last line is really off.
I liked the second, though

stop using random
line
breaks because
it has no
affect

stolen Blue Bird. Too similar to even be called a pastiche
I like it.
like another user said, I don't like the language used for the message beamed.

I'm this: Could you elaborate on why the line breaks don't sit well with you? I tend to use them to dictate the spoken pace. Its the main method by which I pace my peices so feedback on your perspective would be much appreciated.

this is something from ages ago. Haven't read much poetry before.. I'm sorry lit.

It's called calm before the storm.

The air is still
the light has almost faded

and thunder sounds like giants
stepping forward,
coming through the clouds.

what a cunt

too true

It's probably just a me thing. My students will often mimic the "conversational pace" style and I'll always say the same thing:
Does it slide off the tongue?

You cannot make your lines too rough in such poems. You seemed to do fine in the first two stanzas, but got "sharp" toward the end.

hmmm, it's interesting. I like how it follows a character that is explicitly shown to not be the narrator. The narrator claiming witness to his suicide. The imagery is pleasant and contrasts the somber theme. You say this is a part of a ballad?

>I feel like the second line ruins the flow of the poem, it's too long, feels a bit awkward.
It's literally the same exact length as all the other lines, learn how to read iambic pentameter you fucking psued

Yes, I can definitely understand the view. The third stanza is probably the weakest structurally. I sat with it for awhile but couldn't decide how to correct it. I'll look at it more.

Thank you.

I appreciate the comment.
It is, there are 10 stanzas to it currently. Will (hopefully) finish tonight

I feel like this has potential, but it needs some edits. Either commit to that "if I was dead" refrain a little bit more or get rid of it and start each stanza uniquely. I hate the way the word "kiss" looks, sounds, and functions in poetry almost without exception in modern poetry, so I would revise your last stanza. I appreciated the image of the skull on the seafloor, but something about the phrase "a listening shell" seemed off since shells are inanimate and there's no need to personify them here. The second to last stanza is a decent place to end this poem imo. I hope this helps.

I know I'm probably pretty alone on this but I actually like how staccato it is. Thank you for posting user and don't be afraid to keep writing and sharing.

thanks user

Well, when you think it's finished, I'd love to read it. I'll do my best to find a flaw for you. I'll also reread your current piece and try to dismantle it a bit more.

Also, this is one of my poems I've been working on

Dream Interpretation

Some dreams make sense intuitively;
their imagery is self-explanatory.
For example, it’s pretty easy to interpret
a mirror that is collecting cobwebs,
or a mirror that distorts your reflection,
or a mirror that you can walk through
and come out on the other side of.
Other dreams are harder to decipher,
like the one where I follow Davie Bowie
up winding, impossible staircases,
just to get a good look at him.

If only I could illuminate
my subconscious thoughts,
shine a light into those caverns
where all my fascinations
and fetishes crystalize
to become my compulsions.
I’ve fumbled in the dark down there,
shuffled my feet and hugged the walls,
but my only discovery was a stalactite
that resonates when I hear
the sound of my own voice.

The second line is a tad long, I'd shorten it a bit. Nice couplet, would be great in a poem.

Will do, thanks. Post your own work in the meantime, I have no plans

Standard scribble

on Veeky Forums shitpost

young adults write love poems about life they pretend to know

I’m old as coal

And sneer at their babby’s babble

Clueless as the computer I type on

I know it

that I know nothing

little too aloof user

My wife said to me
Why dost thou write poetry?
Because I am a faggot verily

Ok, the last line is pretty damn good. But the second to last line usurpes its impact. In fact, the last stanza is too lengthy for its structure.

You need to hurry the climax. Find a way to convey the same meaning in fewer, more compact lines. For me, i'd look at lines three and four of the last stanza in particular.

Also, as others have said, avoid archaic language. It definitely detracts.

this isnt mine, but i found it in a youtube comment section.

When I hear this song it reminds me of my dog. Who I love more than some family members in my life. And shes getting so old. Shes got grey hair everywhere. i know that soon she will die. it will rip my insides in half.

It's nice but not new or all that lasting. The temporal change is probably the best element of the whole quatrain but one neat tangent doesn't make a good piece. Maybe add some length to give more context and contrast.

i like it

I... want to dislike this but I can't, it's too beautiful

who are you speaking to
The groundlings jeer
draw away the mirror
and you may direct the ear

i know! One wants to find a cliche, but its pretty much impossible! The slight hint that the person who posted it was not a native English speaker accounts for that, I think

I think the grace of this is it's humility. Honestly it could do with restructuring but it's nice enough i guess.

I like the full stop use desu. I'm though, so maybe its just me.

If the two lines, "And shes getting so old." "she's got grey hair everywhere." Were a single line I'd like it alot more. They have the same content and don't need two out of six lines.

IMO, what I got from this would be better expressed in prose.

my idea of happiness would come to me in the form of a woman
kind and gentle and
so pure that all the things
of the world
had enough of a heart
to not
harm her

and she would sing to me
from the home i was searching for
in a voice i knew but couldn't place
and all through the night
and long into tomorrow
my thoughts would be slow and calm and
i would sleep until morning
without waking up or turning

and she would sing to me
just sing to me
and i have been all my life searching
for words that would fit her voice

Out of the whole of the posts prior, not one has given to me any delight. I suspect the appeal of poetry to elude me, and would appreciate a suggestion that may work as an introduction towards appreciating the medium. I apologize for interrupting the critiques, but any suggestion would be great!

Jungle Candle

However respite I took
And in breadth the skyscraping
Sky, of ancient Sanskrit white
The appeal of light
Had me become candle,
Effectively the vision
Where nights of jungle
Orchestrate the night
Regarding shed snake skins
Lovers in shades of my candle
Darkest in colour.

my neck beard rippling in the breeze
just like her lovely locks
as i kneel before her
and pledge my fealty in love
the dark lord unable to cleave
the infinite power of our bond
with any amount of orcs

Well...the classics are always a good place to test the water. I'm beholden to Walt Whitman (free verse) but Shakespear's sonnets are probably as good a place as any. Really, just grab a book of poetry, probably not free verse but i suppose if you like prose you might like free verse. Contemporary is fine if you don't like archaic language.

Keep in mind that the poems in this thread are by people, myself included, who are amateurs. We haven't been writing for more than a few years, for the most part and we still have much to improve on.

you've got some funky syntax going on in the first two lines of your poems. also using night twice, so close to each other in lines 7&8. It feels like you are using ambiguous language to do the job of what ambiguous imagery should already accomplish, so I think this poem would be much better if its delivery were more straightforward.

how would you write it user?

>And shes getting so old - she's got grey hair everywhere

or

>And shes getting so old; she's got grey hair everywhere

I think both of these take away from the simplicity of it and both are becoming pleb punctuation fast. A comma could work though? i'm not sure.

Yeah, probably just a comma. I don't think it takes away from the simplicity. It's five lines and very average word choice. It's the genuine presentation and the easily relatable circumstance. All the better to expediate and compartmentalize the already simple message for added potency.

I can see where you're coming from, and maybe it's just me, but I think with a comma it would sound a bit whiny? as is it's matter of fact, save the last sentence.

Huts of
adobe
on the
riverside.
Crop to
fill bellies,
at the
mercy of
the tide.

Stone by stone,
a hall is built.
Oxen drive
the fields and mills
churn the crop–
There’s enough time
to enjoy it.

Stone turns to brick
and soldiers to lords.
Sated stomachs
stretch to devour more.
Order is formed,
rank kept to survive.
The many live,
only the few thrive.

Peasants look up to
the towers that rule them.
Men in high places
don’t rest easy in bed:
Their blood may be blue,
but it too can flow red.

“Égalité,” it’s called,
but the city’s peaks remain,
only this time around,
it’s money they grow out of,
not by blood or God’s name.

Chimneys jut from steel boxes,
raining soot on the destitute.
Breathing in a poison mist,
chattel called “workers” toil within,
while atop other towers,
cats in suits watch their enterprise
make the view grow more jagged.

Spires stab the heavens as commoners
live lives kings of yore would covet,
but while the skyline rises higher,
it’s still
wages to
make a living
at the
mercy of
the market.

is somebody else writing in spanish?

I see your point but there is also the fact that if the two lines are merged, they are more consistent with the first two lines. Having the first 3 be relatively the same length contrasts the hard ending to a much greater degree. Three lines of constant then a sharp change followed by the fall out of the inevitable.

>like the one where I follow Davie Bowie
>up winding, impossible staircases,
Here, the second verse doesn't make the idea sound right.
in spanish we call that break encabalgamiento and it's not necessarily a bad thing, but here it makes the idea sound poorly redacted. the rest of your poem is not poorly redacted, so I suggest you to focus your further rewriting in that particular verse.

pls respond, even if it's just to tell me it's boring

So, I applaud your innocence and, for the life of me, I don't want to crush you, but this needs work.

First, it's extremely cliche and not only are you failing to incorporate anything novel in your presentation or content but your pacing is fucked. Look at your first stanza in particular, it needs to be restructured. Your line breaks too often do not accomplish anything but shred engagement, it's like speed bumps on a freeway. You set up such an expectation with the lengthy first line just to cleave it in fifths for no reason. It doesn't help that the line itself is the most cliched and obvious thing a romantic can write. I'm a romantic myself friend, this hurts me most of all.

On the positives, the last lines of the second and third stanzas are good. They are relatable but fresh and the very last line brings a sense of contemplation.

Sorry for the rant but i'm pretty tired and just trying to get my thoughts across. Good luck and please keep trying.

I agree, however I think that the merging them *might* do away with the piece's static nature, which let's it 'sing', for want of a better word. I agree, merging them would make the ending harder, but I think the pros of having the two separated (that is giving the piece it's static fell and giving more credibility to the author is not a native English speaker point) outweigh the cons of having them together. However both would make me equally pleased with the piece for different reasons.

The hours tick by, in a
Penultimate swirl,
The left hand of God
Giving rise to the darkened world
In which he sinks.
He asks if anyone else is in the house.
Surely, not. You’ve got to be joking.
His vacant eyes set within themselves
As he stares out into the crumbling space
Of this vast living room
In a small English burrough,
Fog and senseless noise.
“You shouldn’t take any more.”
“I heard something,” he replies,
And makes himself another line.

>encabalgamiento
I'm gonna take a stab and say that word in english would be enjambment? like a way leading into a line by ending on a fragmented thought in the line before? I did want that part to stand out a little, but not be awkward at the same time

whoops, a faut apostrophe. Sorry!

firstly: penultimate? That doesn't really fit, user.

I like >the left hand of god.

Lovely poem!

Don't beg user. We are all looking for feedback but at least have some dignity.

Fine, i'll give you something.
the piece, like many others in this thread, pull your statements too thin across the lines. Meaning that you don't say enough and take too long for what you are saying. This can be remedied with more impactful line breaks and a more shifting focus.

And, looking at it again, you could help it along greatly with adding a few more stanzas. There are numerous times when a new stanza is warranted but instead you let it run off, dangling from the prior lines.

In closing I think this approach to writing is more akin to free verse poetry and would probably be better suited to that structure. It think it has potential.

Look at the heedless beggar,
Waiting till tomorrow until he can be rich again,
Here he is, pleading to debtors, lost friends, driven by craving he lusts for the next one,
dreading what's infront of him, accumulating enough coins so he can live again,

Enough he said one day, a resolution that meant nothing,
Back again he knocks on doors, waiting for dealers to wake up,
And the abuse he would accept,
just to fulfill his senses,
waning already fleeting the high is already fading

i agree that would be a good thing to try in that particular position of your poem, but starting the verse with "up" made it look weird to me at the first reading.
however, once i got the idea it stopped sounding weird to me and the rhythm of the following verse fitted right. i have to say english is not my native language.

I like the spirit of this poem. I think some of the language could be ameliorated. It gets a bit cheesy and even predictable but perhaps that comes with the territory you're diving into.
>cats in suits
>Mercy of the market

Otherwise solid poem, well thought-out.

Thanks user, what would you suggest?

I was the instigator,
The grandfather.
The first, and foremost.

I started it all,
I started it first.
Point the finger at me,
Here's my receipt
Where do I sign?
Give me what is owed to me,
Give me what is rightfully mine.
Give me what I deserve.

I don't know. The word that would replace penultimate would dictate some of the feel of the piece, which I don't think I should choose. It's your poetry man, I don't want to write it.

Fair enough.

this was actually really helpful, thanks user. I think I'm going to try and weed out some of the transitional language and maybe try a shorter measure? I don't know how comfortable I am with writing this in free verse, there are a lot of repeated elements near the beginning that might stick out in a bad way in free verse. I'll give a try though

This is some more from me (
)

Clouds are frozen waves.
Waves, lifted up above any others.
Waves in space, frozen, leaping
on eachother, racing to the land.

Don't like it as much though.

I see what you mean regarding the language (pretty sure I also made some grammatical errors trying to fit some verses to the meter). "Mercy of the market" seemed to be the only thing that provided the bookend I was going for.