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Could You Critique This Poem

Can you critique my poem?

———————Arguing TonightCommunication broke down tonight, we had a fight with our words.I enter into the nightthrough the cold air that bites. When will I return? I amunsure.I walk away from the house,regretting my angry cry,already wanting to apologize,waiting around for dawn’s light.———————Hi, William, thank you for asking!What we want from poetry is DEMONSTRATION, NOT EXPOSITION. Exposition - as the spelling indicates - explains something. Demonstration, by contrast, shows us something without explaining it.Your first task as you move forward in poetry will be to know and act upon the difference between these two types of writing. Does this line *demonstrate* something meaningful about my scene? Or does it try to explain something? The procedure is as follows: keep what demonstrates, remove what explains.(Show, don't tell.)You can see that S1 demonstrates nothing, but explains instead. “We had a fight with words” tells us about an event, but does not show it happening.What do I mean by “showing” the fight? This:DONT TOUCH ME!!!But honey, I…GET OUT OF MY ROOM!!! NOW!!!Sweetheart…I'M CALLING THE POLICE!!!~~~So, this is what must be done moving forward.Where you find vivid or accurate description in your writing, keep those lines.But where you find something explained, take those lines out. Allow the story to reveal itself with no explanation at all.

Will you critique my poem?

I Am

I am your heart as it is racing
Your feet as they are pacing
I am your blood as it is rushing through your veins;
The cause of all your self-inflicted pains.
I am the voice inside your head
The pain behind your tears
The reason that you bled and the worst of all your fears.
I am the nightmares in your sleep
The decay inside your soul
I am your curse; your impending doom
As well as the empty feeling in your room.
I am the disposal of your humanity
The corruptor of your sanity
The producer of your calamity,
The reason for your afflictions,
The judge of your convictions.
I am the pulse of your existence
The death of your persistence,
The eternity of your failed resistance.
I am the stutter of your speech
The tremble in your bones
The eerie echo of your pain-filled moans.
I am the sound you hear when no ones there,
The faintest whisper,
The unseen glare.
I am the crashing of your system,
The disconnecting of your server
The mastermind behind this malevolent fervor.
I am the thoughts trapped inside your malignant mind,
There I'll be, I'll stay behind.

Will you critique my poem?

This is good. If you want to stop reading there you can! Really, what I have are not recommendations exactly but just some opinions.OK, so, imho, the imagery is strong but not particularly coherent especially at the beginning -- if it's a "bandage" then what do you do with bandages - you put them over wounds, you peel them off when they get wet, etc.  You don't put them into anyone's jaws, much less a washing machine, and if you do you would need to explain why. Once you introduce the symbol you kind of have to own it, see it through. Why is it "fluffy," which recalls a bunny or something else not serious. Why is it "corrupted" by chlorine? What are you saying about pool water, or about disinfecting, or what? Why is the sweat "unnecessary"? Can bandages be "corrupted" at all, or doesn't something else happen to them when they're used up? Much stronger are the lines that start "Summer left..."  and I might even start the poem there, where the imagery pulls together with the residue of summer (postcards, after-love). Even there -- "whatever door"? Why not a specific door in a specific place, a pool cabana, a screen door leaking a/c into the summer night. And "hard as nails" should probably go -- it's a cliche so if you use it you want to play off of it somehow (hard as nails but a screw loose, or something, I dunno). And why introduce a doctor now? Aren't I still in front of the washing machine with you? But this is where you stick the landing and make this a winner:"..,after-loveslowly peelinglike a gloveeach time I shedmy clothes"So, I guess I want to feel the exactness of place more. I want to smell the towel funk and know exactly what happened to make it smell that way, and what that has to do with the end of summer and casual love. I want to know what make and color the carpet is, when you put it in, if it's in a cabin, if the walls are wood, if the cracks are straight or crooked. But I don't necessarily want you to put any of that directly into the poem -- think of Hemingway's "writing as iceberg" (what you leave in implies the 90% you edited out). Anyway. I normally don't comment when people ask me for thoughts on poems, because, well, free criticism of a free poem is rarely valuable. But this has a style and flow that I really enjoyed. Thanks!

Who can critique my poetry?

If you would like me to read your work, I would be willing. I think over history a lot of writers work in a depressed, intoxicated stupor--it seems to go with the trade if you think of Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Faulkner (who had to be poured out of a bathtub filled with ice-cubes to deliver his Nobel speech), Lowell and Berryman, etc. My guess is they all revised sober.You can post poems here or send them by message. I can't promise that I will praise them, but if they are praiseworthy, I would.

Can you critique this poem please?

My friend used to study English lit in Trinity but unfortunately she had a big stroke and lost the ability to think. She's in her 20s still and the doctors say there's a chance that she could make a recovery if she remains mentally active. So she spent 9 months writing this poem. She asked me to tell her if it's any good, but I don't know anything about poetry so I want to find out from people here whether or not the poem is good. Please be honest about it, if it's good it's good and if it's bad it's bad. Ok?

This is the poem:

Johnny went out to cut the wood, traboo, traboo
Johnny went out to cut the wood TRABOO, TRABOO
The wind blew, the axe flew, Johnny went home with his balls in a sling
Tra Tra Booey, always cutting the wood!


Any good?

How do you analyze/critique a poem?

To fully understand poetry, we must first be fluent with its meter, rhyme and figures of speech, then ask two questions: 1) How artfully has the objective of the poem been rendered and 2) How important is that objective? Question 1 rates the poem's perfection; question 2 rates its importance. And once these questions have been answered, determining the poem's greatness becomes a relatively simple matter.If the poem's score for perfection is plotted on the horizontal of a graph and its importance is plotted on the vertical, then calculating the total area of the poem yields the measure of its greatness.A sonnet by Byron might score high on the vertical but only average on the horizontal. A Shakespearean sonnet, on the other hand, would score high both horizontally and vertically, yielding a massive total area, thereby revealing the poem to be truly great. As you proceed through the poetry in this book, practice this rating method. As your ability to evaluate poems in this matter grows, so will, so will your enjoyment and understanding of poetry.The above is something any fan of the film The Dead Poets Society will recognize. It���s pretty awful stuff, as it degrades “appreciating” poetry into embalming it. Nevertheless, some familiarity with the techniques a poet uses is helpful in analyzing and critiquing poetry.It’s similar to the way one experiences music. It’s possible to appreciate music for the emotional response it evokes. One needn’t know how to read music, let alone have an in depth understanding of things like key signature or time signature. Understanding more allows for an analytical appreciation, as well as an emotional response.

Will you critique my poem (revised)?

Thanks for the A2A.  Here are my thoughts:You have some nice lines and images here.  I particularily like "Living in the lightening of those storms."  That's quite good.  I also like, "Contingencies for the clouds" and that idea pairs well with the engineers who designed the tree, so good use of evokative words and images.   I'm not sure what "fending off the rays that led leaves astray."  - do you just mean that sunlight encouraged the plant to grow in a different direction than the engineers wanted?  That idea kind of works for a vine type plant, but a tree?  Who is this "our" in stanza three?  Are you comparing this tree's growth to a couples'?   That idea is not expressed clearly enough.  And it's also problematic b/c this "our" doesn't appear again in the poem.  It's not the engineers, who are the "they," from stanza two, right?  By then of stanza three and four, you seen to be mixing your metaphors and I honestly don't know what you're talking about.  You seem to be comparing the sparks to pirates, but then you lose the spark metaphor and seem to be talking about real pirates "sailing on rumbling seas," and looking for treasure.  But the "and bark" takes me back to the tree, so are we back to talking about a spark?  So is this spark thirsting and searching for something to burn the way a pirate searches for treasure?  I also like the sound and image of the line "goose-winged guided by wet fingers."  But I have no idea what it means.  I don't know who the "they" in stanza four is.  The engineers?  The pirates?  The sparks?   Clearly, there's some theme here of a rogue force that over takes nature (since the committee planned the tree, and this rogue struck down the committee and burned the tree said committee made), but I'm not sure what the point of all that is.

Please read and critique my Poem if you would like?

I tried to not make this a first person poem. Just working on that as an alleged poet trying to improve. Has anyone else had a life experience that made them a better man, or woman. I have had many (and continue to have them) and they are as vivid now as they were the day it happened. I take a lot of joy in finally being able to put some of these experiences into words, poetic style, and I am glad I can share it with you. Thanks, Bri

The Big Hinz

It came a Spring Day in Eight Grade
One of life’s lessons was about to be made
We still remember stuff like this ought her?
To stay on the beaten path n for daughter

He was the perfect young boy to anyone’s standard
The most popular, athletic, smart and man-ward
But an image to uphold was part of the deal
This is where the Big Hinz comes in for real

Big Hinz had no friends anyone could tell
Ideal fall guy for popular’s head to swell
Every day walked into class
Big Hinz’s class-mates bellowed “At him” agas.

Then one day Man on Campus walked by
Big Hinz he reported and chuckled a sigh
“No more BH.” the Hinz a straight stone face
“Say What?” was popular's lone retrace

“Don’t say BH anymore” last warning to be
“Big Hinz” popular said as he snickered with glee
The last thing Mr. Pops recalls he was on his a-rse
Cold-cock-ed in the face this was no farce.

Looks up and sees students belly laughing at Him
What will Popular do to make up for this whim?

Thoughts ran through his head as He got up on His Feet ??

Part One of Two
(Conclusion tomorrow)

Note: BH = Big Hinz

Can you critique this poem " The Lost Mariner "?

Lost in life's ocean, drifting in its space
And weakened by endless days without hope
A rudderless ship the oceans encased
Wondering how many days I will cope
Nights ever colder are closer to death
A bewildered stare now paints my old face
I feel the warm fear that comes with each breath
Endless days surviving I have embraced
No struggle foreign to outcome I seek
Following currents that seem rather slow
My patience once strong is fractured and weak
Caught by failed winds that seem to never blow

A note I'll leave in a bottle to find
And hope my signed name is found to remind

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