Critiques and Revision

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  • Rookie Ndubuisi Okona (8/14/2012 5:27:00 PM) Post reply
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    Please criticise this poem of mine.


    Silence they say is golden and quite glittery
    All it ever brings is pain and total misery
    Everyone wants to be proved right
    But none wants to be left out in love
    A fresco of wasted dreams
    A collage of aspirations cast in streams

    Silence I hear is golden yet so deafening
    I try to speak it’s always a squabbling
    Really scared to disturb the peace
    Tried to piece back one good piece
    It was only a wink in the dark
    The pendulum did not swing back
    Watched love in profile take a dive
    Settled with the ripples of lies and unlusty lives

    Silence I see is golden and so so dazzling
    Autumn’s child came cool and strong
    A blink all green in me was gone
    Oh! The peals of heart break and it stings
    If I could detach my manhood and cry for a moment
    If I could reach back and erase that moment
    I walked up and said “how do you do”

    Twice I loved thrice she lied
    Can this justify my disposition?
    Kindly lace my Valium with deprivian
    Kindly deprive me of this oblivion
    So I could wake up to you
    Lay what is left on you
    Time tells if these would all come true.

  • Rookie Evie Stripp (8/14/2012 10:39:00 AM) Post reply

    This is a poem that I wrote after I lost a competition. It is called 'Disappointment'. I would like some constructive critiscim for both the structure and the language of the poem.

    High hopes,
    Adrenalin runs,
    Tension becomes unbearable,
    The cup gleams, at you,

    It could be yours!

    Suddenly a decision is made,
    You stare anxiously outward,
    A name is called…

    It is not yours.

  • Rookie - 1 Points Peter Daniel Phiri (8/14/2012 3:01:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply


    Life is the thing that defines me,
    The King enthroned in my most deepest and sacred mansion.
    Life is me in speech,
    In action,
    And in thought.

    Life is my compassion,
    Your love,
    And their hospitality.

    Life is me inspiring people,
    You making a difference,
    And them changing the world.

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    • Rookie - 1 Points Evie Stripp (8/14/2012 10:24:00 AM) Post reply

      I like your poem's structure because it shows how one person's attitude can change the attitude of many for the greater good and it also shows how important life is to both the individual and the worl ... more

  • Rookie Debbie Aherne (8/10/2012 5:32:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    There was a little birdie it sang all bloody day
    Couldn't shut the thing up had so much more to say
    It sung all through the morning my only peace was night
    Got to get rid of that birdie I'm sick of all it's shite

    Now next door had a pussy cat Suzie was her name
    You thinking what I'm thinking Yeh she can take the blame
    I lead her to the apple tree where birdie likes to perch
    And place her on the branches where she begins to start her search

    That should bleeding do it a bit of peace at last
    But what the hell was that just then it's Suzie running past
    I look up to the apple tree but birdie isn't there
    But on my kitchen table really giving me a stare

    I walk over to the table and ask birdie what is wrong
    And the cheeky little fooker decides to burst loudly into song
    I've had enough you have to go can't take it anymore
    Look who's crept in so quietly and creeping across the floor

    It's fur ball Suz the cat next door all wide eyed and wanting lunch
    Then a crash and a bang and a pow wow wow comes one almighty crunch
    Well the cats all full and licking her lips and theres feathers all over the floor
    It's such a shame but nevermind the fookin birdie won't sing anymore.

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  • Rookie Breanne Wilmot (8/8/2012 2:52:00 AM) Post reply

    Black Hole

    You are in a black hole
    Everyone falls in one from time to time.
    You don't even realize it, but you are at the bottom.
    No one knows where you are, not even yourself.
    The hole is deep and you can barely see a light when you look up.
    Now is your time to choose...

    ...You are surrounded by darkness.
    It feels as if hope is lost.
    You are tired and weak but you start to climb.
    There isn't any one that can help you now,
    You're body screams for you to give up,
    to let yourself fall to the bottom again and stay there forever, it would be easier that way.
    You look up once again,
    the light is growing
    You climb up higher and higher until…
    you are finally met with warm beams of sunlight and fresh air.

    You are in a black hole
    Everyone falls in one from time to time.
    You don't even realize it, but you are at the bottom.
    No one knows where you are, not even yourself.
    The hole is deep and you can barely see a light when you look up.
    Now is your time to choose...

    ...You are surrounded by darkness
    All hope is lost
    You are too weak and tired to try
    No one can help you now
    You know you will fold to your bodies screams once you start climbing
    So you decide to stay in the hole forever
    You look up at that small light
    It drives you crazy, knowing you will never reach it.
    So you end your own insanity….
    You let the darkness take you over and you never look up again.

    Many are in a black hole
    Everyone falls in one from time to time.
    They don't even realize it, but somehow end up at the bottom.
    No one knows where they are, not even them.
    The hole is deep and they can barely see a light when they look up.
    It is up to them to decide if they will make it out
    Many will,
    Some won’t.

  • Rookie - 431 Points Adam M. Snow (8/4/2012 7:58:00 PM) Post reply

    ****Please Comment****


    There once was a lady by the name of Ladylove,
    who was said to be a saint sent from above.
    But no one knew just who she was;
    a ghost indeed was she, was she.
    She approached a swain one day, one sorrowful day;
    stealing his heart as she ran away.

    She left with a flutter in a moonlit still,
    her beauty graces her for a splendid time.
    She haste to a pond of midnight glow,
    a lad soon followed as he watched her go.
    She looked in his eyes with sadness there,
    looking away as she's engulfed in light.

    She step a foot in glistening water still,
    meandering a swan not by will.
    The boy he haste to grasp her hand,
    letting his love guide as they shift to swans;
    he a swan of black and she white,
    they soar now into the ever moonlight.
    The story now told of a love everlasting,
    of two young swans, on moonlit casting.

    -Adam M. Snow

    If you like this poem, please check out any of my other poems

  • Rookie Nate Hawk (8/4/2012 5:28:00 PM) Post reply

    Hi guys just wondering if anyone would care to offer some constructive criticism of my latest poems. New to this game so any would be greatly appreciated. Cheers!

  • Rookie Jonah Adaptar (7/31/2012 10:42:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Check this out..

    " Love Is Loving You"

    Love is a fall,
    Love is a gentle call.
    It is a falling leaf,
    That rides on the whisper of a gentle breeze.

    Love is a gift,
    Love is a little lift.
    It is a loving arms,
    When your heart needs a little warm.

    Love is a faith,
    Love is a little wait.
    It's a beautiful song,
    A melody that fills your ears when words went wrong.

    Love is so true.
    Love is Loving You.
    It's a wonderful dream,
    Unbelievable reality 'cause you finally came.

    thanks guys..

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  • Rookie Shai Cherry (7/29/2012 3:25:00 PM) Post reply


    The war on racism is hard at work
    it seems to travel at a fast speed
    that leaves little room to slow down
    but death is always around
    so there is no peace to this crazy lifestyle
    for I'm always gonna be the little girl
    lost in hope but freedom in my memory......

  • Rookie - 431 Points Adam M. Snow (7/27/2012 4:49:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    ****Please Comment****

    Through the Eyes of the Untold Lore

    Through these stained eyes, dark is all I see
    yet I try to live, believing this is me.
    But all I could do is place my heart on a page,
    and watch it rot away with every age.

    All I am through your eyes is a ghost,
    whom you don't dare miss the most.
    All you are through my eyes, is hopelessness;
    but my words I write are my distress.

    Peaking through my once soulless muse,
    as my heart lies victim to your solemn abuse.
    I live to be your puppet, nothing more
    but I am a writer of many lore.

    And as I dare write with missing heart,
    it is with you whom my stories start.

    -Adam M. Snow

    If you like this poem, please check out any of my other poems

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