Treasure Island

Critiques and Revision

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  • Ben Douglas Rookie - 1st Stage (9/19/2014 4:57:00 PM) Post reply

    Sometimes I get inspired
    I feel colors in my veins
    pulsing in anticipation,
    burning through my skin
    leaking out of pores
    So I let it drip onto a blank page

    Sometimes I get inspired
    I breath in a word
    it buzzes in my lungs for days
    caged by my teeth, fighting with my tongue
    It begins to choke me
    So I cough it onto a blank page

    But sometimes I’m not
    The only thing I feel
    is a weight of expectation
    self imposed and heavy
    pressing down my hands and tongue
    silencing my mind
    so for now
    I’ll just leave the page blank

  • John Westlake Veteran Poet - 3rd Stage (9/19/2014 2:57:00 PM) Post reply

    Was it wrong of me
    things went so bad too fast
    I could not stay to watch the end
    had to get away from everything

    The memories we made
    I’ve packed away
    in the black leather suitcases
    that they arrived in 6 years ago
    now I need to try to clear them from my head

    But I can still feel the desire
    that I had for you
    will someone else cure it??
    and I still feel the caress of your left hand
    please just stop it
    so I can just rest and escape away
    before I go crazy

    I know that it’s not that simple
    most of you will never fade from here
    so rather than forget you completely
    I will raise a memorial in my mind
    to how it once was
    and let it stand for now in place
    until time wears it away

  • Bill Charles Rookie - 1st Stage (9/18/2014 6:50:00 PM) Post reply


    The more I stay Away,
    The more we change, like the leaves
    from green to gray, like a catepillar to a butterfly,
    But heres a thought, for who?You?
    No never, Lieing is the snake around our hearts, killing us
    I escape, Wake up! Wake up! Comeback!
    But your gone, trapped in its slimey clutches,
    Venom pouring into your veins,
    You live in LaLa now, with Alice,
    Cold with no remorse,

    I fly away, so high, up in the clouds,
    forgetting the serenade of your voice,
    in exchange for gentle breezes,
    words, coming out like buzzards,
    that haunt me,
    comeback, Stay, Stay with me

  • Donald Charon Rookie - 1st Stage (9/18/2014 4:23:00 PM) Post reply

    I have want
    To know you,
    A sadness thus

    Though memories leave
    Me on the lee,
    I'll see you
    Not again.

  • Deborah Gringhuis Rookie - 1st Stage (9/11/2014 8:49:00 AM) Post reply

    Too deep or not too deep
    That is the question
    Surfing around in my mind
    The waves of emotion
    Come into shore
    By twisted tongue
    The anxiety
    As the crab collected from
    The morning tide
    My heart is picked up and
    Put in a basket just waiting
    Whats next
    It sits on a shelf scared to
    Death, is this the end
    Pick me! Pick me!
    Is it over or has it just begun?

  • Mohammad Skati Bronze Star - 4th Stage (9/6/2014 3:15:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Criticism fails if not achieving the objective point of view anytime, so a critic who takes things personal, then he will fail later on.

    Replies for this message:
    • John Westlake Veteran Poet - 3rd Stage (9/9/2014 9:34:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies

      No. Some will criticise the work of others for no reason, personal or not. Constructive criticism is normally best if any needs to be made

  • John Westlake Veteran Poet - 3rd Stage (9/4/2014 10:59:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Blood drips from the open palm
    the hand silently cries
    due to the pain it received

    The knife passes blamelessly
    slicing deep through already heavily scarred skin
    before moving on to the soft flesh of the wrist
    unaware that it is doing any wrong
    the hand that holds it is at fault
    but won’t suffer any punishment

    People would say the wielder needs help
    but won’t do a damn thing about it to ease their pain
    sometimes all they need is a little support
    a comforting voice in their world of chaos
    just to show them that someone cares enough about them
    to make them put down the blade

    Replies for this message:
    • Gbolagade Taiwo Rookie - 1st Stage (9/13/2014 3:59:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      Nice work! It talks about people knowing what to do but not willing to do...the poem is loaded with lessons...thank you. Hope people will change for good. Kudos!

  • Gajanan Mishra Bronze Star - 4th Stage (9/4/2014 8:30:00 PM) Post reply

    It is right nothing is fixed, no truth, no love and nothing. It is all relative, here there and everywhere.

  • Aidan Cost Rookie - 1st Stage (9/4/2014 7:12:00 AM) Post reply

    This poem is called Stranger, probably one of my personal favourites of my own works

    " Tell me your story young chestnut brown,
    I've never seen your face, you must be new in town,
    What do these darkened ridges on your hands mean?
    Normally i cant keep a conversation but you seem so keen.
    Explain to me the honeyed tone in your voice,
    I understand this absent minded beauty isn't of choice.
    Does your stomach feel a-flutter,
    alike a fly of butter,
    Well I must bid you good day, its a shame this must end,
    maybe this time tomorrow i can call you 'friend'?
    Walk your path down the evergreen,
    most interesting soul i ever have seen,
    maybe when you pass a another time, you,
    Your journey away will accommodate for two?"

  • Nehemiah Theophylus Haokip Rookie - 1st Stage (8/29/2014 11:27:00 AM) Post reply

    The saga of bloody hours 5

    Soldier aiming the soul of mutt,

    To lean on the wall of freedom,

    But the pitiless war won’t end,

    Until the wave of unity rise,

    My lips will spell out those words,

    To level the miracles of lord,

    The people will march till the end,

    FOR they HAD sin to glory,

    The saga was rightfully ours,

    But we vamoose our dreams,

    The blessing was from century,

    And the curse was from the beginning,

    But the crisis not ready to leave us,

    The enemies will long war,

    And the force will pressure high,

    As we were angry,

    God alone was enough to protect us,

    But we settle very thing,

    The rain will flow down with fish,

    In the name of our lord,

    The star will dwell in our head high,

    To ember the darkness of an anger freak,

    He hear our cries,

    For we praise upon him,

    The fang will break the gold of our sin,

    For love was left for us,

    As we were poor and needy,

    To make him proud of what we were.

    written by Nehemiah theophylus haokip

    Date 12/2/12

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