Critiques and Revision

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  • Rookie - 49 Points Nash Thomas (6/23/2013 1:31:00 PM) Post reply
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  • Rookie - 0 Points C.ann Penning (6/17/2013 8:13:00 AM) Post reply


    Crickets play in the dead of night
    A melody, so soft and sweet
    Lulls me quickly off to sleep

    Sold out tickets to the show
    Memories, a matinee
    Cut the reel, don’t let it play

    Wishing from an empty well
    Heads and tails, vacuous legends
    Hopes and dreams, faded, bludgeoned

    Caterpillar grows and grows
    Doomed to die to start anew
    The life I lived, no miscue

    Breaking free from my cocoon
    Leaving my old world behind
    No longer will I be confined

    Crawled to walk and learned to fly
    Seen the world from a distinct view
    Found a life I never knew

  • Rookie - 10 Points Olumide Familusi (6/16/2013 5:01:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies


    Every single day in Africa
    There's a child out there
    Who's hungry and sick without meds.
    And also without shelter and clothing
    Needing for your love and succor

    Every single day in Africa
    A child goes hungry to bed
    Looking badly malnourished and ill-fed
    Not sure where and when the next meal comes
    Lives in slums in unhygienic conditions
    In a bid to break barriers and above par

    Every single day in Africa
    A child drops out of school
    Due to Abject poverty and starvation
    And an inability to pay school fees
    Which results to disillusionment

    Every single day in Africa
    A child is psychologically abused
    Sent out on the cold streets
    To eke out out a living for his family
    Inspite of very imminent dangers on his way

    Every single day in Africa
    A child wakes up to harsh realities
    Sold into prostitution, slavery and crime
    Against their own very wishes
    To a world of hate and bestiality

    Every single day in Africa
    A child is faced with humiliation
    Despair and suppression of own voices
    He cant be heard and he's preyed upon
    In a world where he seeks protection and love

    So many have lost hope.
    Some have had their trust damaged
    Some are living for the day
    Waiting for what tomorrow brings
    In a cruel world that care less
    About the future of the Africa Child...

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  • Rookie - 0 Points C.ann Penning (6/14/2013 2:18:00 AM) Post reply

    The Guardian

    Under the steel twilight skies,
    Under the dawn's fire and ice
    She whispers out to the earth,
    Unveil your dark boundless knight

    Shades of amber, emerald green
    Softly pour silk cyan seas
    Above arctic mountains high
    Set free crystal butterflies

    Glacial lakes and royal streams
    Loose the beast from your labyrinth
    Calve and roll and gently roar
    As iced feathered wings unfold

    With mighty force nature flies
    A majestic shade of blue
    Mesmerizing, scarlet eyes
    He who guards her in the night

    Protects her hopes, all her dreams
    Destroys evil where it lurks
    Talons carve a frozen scene
    Soothes the princess of the deep

    Fiery flames of day arise
    She calls the guard back to hide
    Under sheets of ivory floes
    A sea serpent he returns

    Cleaves the princess to his side
    Sings her soothing lullabies
    Under the dawn's fire and ice
    They lay waiting twilight skies

  • Rookie - 0 Points Yusuf Qomor Olusola (6/7/2013 9:36:00 AM) Post reply

    The Potential Danger

    Prior to the destination along a loading bay
    Where rested a long exuberant wheel
    Moving high on a high way
    With four basements as a standing steel
    A stirring as a controlling blue-ray
    Fuel, as disgusting heavenly sea
    Oil, superior but inferior erosion
    Auxiliary to an already-completed benediction
    Green and white, a distinctive bellowing rendition
    Gallop and steady, of Economy, a potential acceleration

    So truss a fellow!
    Encase in a rickety basin of mediocrity
    For epilepsy to bones has worn him
    Eternal blindness has taken over him
    He is an epitome of epidemics
    A world-weary figure of leprosy
    Projecting him an embodiment of paralysis
    yet of the said wheel, a driver to be

    will the wheel be wheeled to the willing destination?
    Will there be a compromise and not commotion?
    Will the passengers be treated with justification?
    Will the Government not be divided among the nation?

  • Rookie Julianna Mcleod (6/6/2013 10:21:00 AM) Post reply

    Does anyone want to check out my poems and comment on what you think and what I can do better?There's always room for change! ... unless your locked in a tight box... try putting skinny jeanse on in there: P lol I'm just kidding hahaha

  • Rookie Abdu Musa (6/1/2013 6:02:00 PM) Post reply

    A Little Prospect

    I was here to let my emotion go out
    Through the the pipe of poetry art
    So, I started hitting the keyboard
    But, as reluctant was my mind,
    Nothing happened except a little prospect

  • Rookie - 19 Points Savannah Oakes (5/30/2013 11:08:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies

    If I Had Ten More Minutes

    If I had ten more minutes
    and my voice was not faint
    nor my face so devoid
    or my mind so blank,
    I would profess—

    But I'm afraid of words
    which might betray lips,
    For what is kept
    is of my eyes—
    that impulsive organ
    I've attempted to stray;
    hooded, hazed.

    Construing a montage
    ever playing:
    concerns, worries
    fears, and doubts,
    Come to life
    in bursting light
    whilst straining in the dark.

    And if such creations
    could speak—
    or better
    could be heard—
    through the mist of passion
    And masks of pride,

    I would profess
    All in my heart;
    Every quaint murmur
    Forsaken night and night.

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  • Rookie - 0 Points Yusuf Qomor Olusola (5/29/2013 4:39:00 PM) Post reply

    The PoemHunter

    The Internet refuses to open the site’s gate
    Appealing to heaven where all returns shall be made
    My way, with ease, was made
    Browsing through the yard
    I realize I’ve been to the elite world
    The page within the gate seems to be red
    Not for blood nor suppression of my zest
    But for creativities of people shining on their golden pen
    Registered as a new member
    I realize it is The PoemHunter

    How I wish I’d known you earlier than this!
    You ignite my dying memory
    And rejuvenate all my passions for poetry
    A radiant of recognition fly onto my soul
    My seeming-dead Literary works are back and glow
    All in the course of joining The PoemHunter

    Hadn’t been the divine creativity of some creatures
    Heaven would’ve agitated against the buried creativities
    And claimed back the world to revive the neglected talents
    Many would’ve not known to any
    If anyone hasn’t created any
    Dishing out the truth can never kill the world
    Denying it will rather upset the heaven
    Talking of not just a site
    Then, one of them is The PoemHunter

    The site is a competitive Arena
    Where all the gladiators engage
    In an endless combat of intellectualism
    Creativities dwell in everyone’s soul
    And this caused the congestion of creativities
    Lion preys upon lion
    When every poet, on this field, is a lion
    Crier fails to pet crier
    When everyone, for fame, is a crier
    Many poems are left without comments
    When in this room, there is diversity of ideology
    Callous are every poet here
    Since my poor poems haven’t gained their attention
    Meeting you on this battle field
    I bid kudos to The PoemHunter

  • Rookie - 0 Points Yusuf Qomor Olusola (5/28/2013 7:19:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    The Dignity of A Lady

    East, a loathed enemy
    Does not conform to the West
    Digressed but evasive he claims
    Reluctant she feels
    Shedding shallow shame like water from duck-backs
    For superiority not of her
    But they are almost the same source of rivers
    Having crawled over my dreams

    Nevertheless, I hold you tight… then sticks
    Against extraneous and divine bags of tricks
    That serves nothing but lust and jinx
    Here comes the guy you hit with sticks
    Reciprocate with tragic but nuptial rings
    All to embrace truce and unity
    And set a chain of one entity
    Wish you'd come to elevate my sanctity
    And make one figure a twenty
    So I might be holy and praiseworthy
    Then, fill with solace and tenacity

    Hide here! Hide your NECTAR
    For here is the sanctuary
    That prevents tsetse flies
    From humiliating your FILAMENTS
    And your foliage, pearled by the dew
    Please come forth!
    And let us sleep now

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    • Rookie - 0 Points Megan Coker (5/29/2013 5:02:00 PM) Post reply

      I really like this poem. which is awesome because I have read a lot of poetry online and the majority of it is drivel.

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