Critiques and Revision


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  • Zipporah Mulisch (10/28/2013 3:12:00 AM) Post reply

    " Pig"

    Clutching bed sheets,
    heartbeat deafening;
    muffling the sounds of
    the last train to Century Park -
    whispers of my lover float
    above my head,
    and between my legs

    Blood pumps unevenly,
    flowing straight to the fingertips;
    leaving my hands numb,
    lost, dead, flopping
    over the sides of my bed

    The creases in my belly
    (disgusting pig gut)
    mock my posture,
    and the spots on my face
    mock my shapeless body

    But you still love me so, only you
    and my soul remains warm,
    unchanged and untouched,
    confused in this ugly corpse
    this filthy pile of fat and bones
    growing and bulging like a cancer

    I keep it safe, just for you -
    You lovely, blind fool
    I promise;
    when our skin meets again,
    palm against palm,
    I’ll be beautiful again

    Z. Mulisch

  • Sam Kim (10/27/2013 4:49:00 AM) Post reply

    Hello I would like to request that if you have a time to spare please read my poems. All my poems currently registered except for camping and night sky was written 2 or 3 years ago. Please enjoy: D

  • Rookie - 1st Stage Niki Nicholas Nkuna (10/22/2013 6:48:00 AM) Post reply

    Hi! Colleagues, I'm a novice poet, please comment on my poem below, thanks
    Day of reckoning *
    My last years were simply confirmed
    By one thought, one investigation, one story
    By then I had resigned myself to come what may
    The aura outside was deprecating as usual
    My life was condemned outside and inside
    That fateful day, the last day was to be concluded by prayer
    Preparation for my farewell was confusing
    I have never done it before except for somebody
    For whom we know what it means and what to do

    The day of reckoning meant nothing to me
    Because whatever I do wouldn’t change the verdict
    The day will end the same as usual
    My skin proved heavy and hot
    It felt like a blanket on a hot summer day
    I had to take it out, wished I was a snake

    Thus the day of reckoning came as a relief
    Albeit it meant nothing but death
    The days following the dark day where strange days
    There was no night or day because I saw with yesterday’s eyes and mind
    I waited for the day with my brain roving day and night
    Waiting for the day of reckoning to get it done
    I was tired of waiting to die when dying was already given to me as a name

    I just had nothing to think about even if I tried
    Except to see the dark end of the tunnel in my mind
    The priest who came to pray with me
    Believed in his trade when in fact he was driving me to the hilt

    27 May 2013, N Nkuna

  • Rookie - 1st Stage Edwina Du Casse (10/21/2013 1:26:00 AM) Post reply

    To me a poem is a painting in words, feelings, colours, scenes, tells a story, shares an emotion, takes the reader on a journey into the poem.(How do I down load some of my work here?) Will some one please tell me.As I am new here.

  • Rookie - 1st Stage Zomuani Sailo (10/19/2013 5:43:00 PM) Post reply

    THE TORNED BRIDE
    Her dream a promised destiny only in vain
    Her chapped crimson bleeding lips a scar of the pain
    Every failed romances she wore tearing as she dance
    Sunken to the ground grasping more than every chance
    Her wedding gown now polluted with a darkened heart of failed romance
    Yet she reaped her tears with a smile
    A smile she wore proudly amidst every conflict
    A face you'd pity and yet she cries in glee
    She'd be happy more than you'll ever be I agree
    Cause she knows " Agony and pain shows your alive"
    And she'll be alive more than you lotNeed not you pity she suffered all and yet she stands tall
    I envy her and i concur with her... She'll live
    A dream blown away along the wind
    And where the wind blow she'll find him..

  • Rookie - 1st Stage Jack Growden (10/16/2013 3:15:00 AM) Post reply

    Hi, please read my collection. I have received quite a lot of positive feedback so your comments and ratings would also be greatly appreciated. To start with, I would recommend " The Willow" , " Autumn Leaves" , " Driftwood at Sunset" , " Fletcher" and " The Sweatshop" . Thank you sincerely for supporting a young poet! Jack Growden

  • Rookie - 1st Stage Mohammad Tabatabaei (10/15/2013 10:31:00 AM) Post reply

    Dear fellow poets
    Please do me a favor and read my poem " Ecstasy" and comment as you like.thank yoy.

  • Rookie - 1st Stage Minas Harutunian (10/14/2013 12:36:00 AM) Post reply

    The Loaded Kiss

    I lie in bed on this cool summer’s night
    I feel the breeze on my skin giving me goose bumps

    I have visions of my hands caressing your hips,
    As my fingers slowly begin to move up and down your back
    Our mouths get closer and closer
    With each passing second I dream of kissing your supple lips.
    The anticipation makes me want you even more than ever

    Our lips…our lips finally brush up against each other
    I feel your warm breath and it makes me shiver.
    The passion between us makes the starry sky fall
    While you moan with rapturous intent as I tease you more and more.
    Fireworks explode in grandeur out the window
    While we make love on this cool summer’s night

    My hands gently make their way up and down your silky legs
    With each thought of getting closer to heaven
    Our souls become one, as I sensually kiss you up and down your fragile skin…
    The sensual tension between us rises when your body touches mine
    Nothing else exists, nothing else matters
    While I envision being inside of you
    I want you. I feel you. I need you.
    I want you with every breath, in every way from now to the end of days.
    I want to breathe you; I want to be in you; I want to be with you.

    I turn you around and run my fingers through your hair
    Our eyes…our eyes meet again…and my legs begin to tremble.
    I wrap my arms around you tighter as you wrap your legs around mine

    I playfully caress your cheeks, which feel so perfect on my skin
    My lips soon make their way towards your neck while my tongue begins to tease you
    You scream in ecstasy and ask for more while you smile and pull me towards your lips,
    You give me a sweet, passionate kiss that could give life to the heavens above as we watch the sunrise come up
    With you in my arms,
    There’s nothing more that I want.

  • Rookie - 1st Stage Joaquin Santana (10/4/2013 9:14:00 PM) Post reply

    I don't think there is very many people here who are in a position to critique anyone's poems. I've looked at many poems here and they are not very good at all. i've looked at past winners in poem contests here and wondered how did they win.

  • Rookie - 1st Stage Jason Brierly (10/4/2013 7:19:00 PM) Post reply

    Any chance of a critique?

    It's all in the name


    Pointless and aimlessly,
    The poet takes flight.
    Unaware at the moment,
    Of what he will write.
    The precursor begins the flow,
    The go,
    The,
    " He knows that he wants to write" ,
    Yet doesn't quite know,
    What avenue of creation to take.
    Slowly,
    And surely
    As the creek will rise,
    Creative juices aplenty,
    His art takes form
    As ink meets with paper,
    And,
    With a little help from a friend,
    The words woven intricate,
    Lay out a form unknown.
    Interlocked and likened literature Of a duly noted nonsensical.
    Deep and steeped
    In stark contrast
    From the norm of poetry,
    My flowetry takes form.
    " How B?
    Words so intricate in flow?"
    " A mad man's internal" ,
    I say.
    Thirty years in the making,
    A mad man's nonsensical
    Takes on,
    In a busy mind of mine.
    Thought odd and weird,
    A style unique;
    A story of epic proportions unfolds
    As a knightly troubadour led astray,
    Cuts a lyrical hand,
    Opens his mind,
    And in doing so,
    Opens a vein of creativity
    That spews forth...
    This...
    Tlowetry...
    Little upper thought,
    And
    The proverbial flood gates
    Of my mind open,
    And with a thought,
    Brain sends message
    Through billions of electrical signals.
    Message sent down wire,
    Through arm into a hand,
    Weak and weary
    From hours of holding this pen.
    And,
    At this pen
    The electric signal stops.
    It...
    Ceases..
    From there,
    The ink dances a waltz
    Across a once blank paper,
    Now...
    Not so blank.
    An ink released
    To paint upon this canvas,
    A picture unseen.
    A picture is worth a thousand words?
    Well,
    Picture this...
    My words
    Are worth a million images.
    Images that,
    Through a sequence of words
    Rendered upon parchment,
    Intricate in detail so...
    Deep...
    And meaningful,
    That images grow
    And appear upon the mass's,
    Impressionable mind.
    Like this....
    " The lovers entwined, legs interlocked. A love so deep; a love so inspiring and moving unknown. Two souls merge as one... heartbeat... breath in unison, and from between one's lips, under breath, and heartfelt, the verbal archer takes aim, and release... " I" ... slowly and quietly... " love" ... fluidly into the ear canal... " you" ... to vibrate ever so soothingly, reverberating upon the ear drum. A lover's passion so great. Doing a dance of passion... forever locked in a soul mate's embrace..."
    And,
    As my flowetry free form
    Becomes the image in your mind
    And you see the two
    Entwined in prose,
    You heed the gravity of my words
    Intricate.
    The words aflow,
    To impress upon your mind
    That
    " Million picture, flicker show" ,
    And you realize,
    Truly within...
    " A mad man's nonsensical" ?
    Truly not nonsense.
    And,
    With that,
    A lovely picture is painted,
    And
    For fear of over doing
    With verbal vomit,
    Intricate B...
    must part...

    Intricate B

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