Best Criticism Poems
Random thoughts flutter across a page
And take shape in verses of expression
Reflecting the notions of the poet/sage.
While the actor repeats upon the stage
Phrases acting out playwright’s impression
Random thoughts flutter across a page.
Both painting portraits of love and rage
In concise words, the writer’s profession,
Reflecting the notions of the poet/sage.
Visually the reader will absorb, engage,
Theatergoers easily observe the passion
Random thoughts flutter across a page.
Poets create images like a bird in a cage
Their poems coming in and out of fashion,
Reflecting the notions of the poet/sage.
The value of writers the public will gauge
Sometimes without the proper caution
Random thoughts flutter across a page
Reflecting the notions of the poet/sage.
Written May 13, 2022
#51 on the BEST POEMS LIST
June 12, 2022
Earlier this morning I was enlightened by a poet's post and felt the need to express my thoughts in the following lines ~
It's far better we write to please ourselves
and ignore the negative criticism of others
than to write in order to please the public
and forfeit our integrity and self-respect
An Obscenity Trial
by Michael R. Burch
The defendant was a poet held in many iron restraints
against whom several critics cited numerous complaints.
They accused him of trying to reach the "common crowd,"
and they said his poems incited recitals far too loud.
The prosecutor alleged himself most stylish and best-dressed;
it seems he’d never lost a case, nor really once been pressed.
He was known far and wide for intensely hating clarity;
twelve dilettantes at once declared the defendant another fatality.
The judge was an intellectual well-known for his great mind,
though not for being merciful, honest, sane or kind.
Clerics called him the "Hanging Judge" and the critics were his kin.
Bystanders said, "They'll crucify him!" The public was not let in.
The prosecutor began his case
by spitting in the poet's face,
knowing the trial would be a farce.
"It is obscene,"
he screamed,
"to expose the naked heart!"
The recorder (bewildered Society)
greeted this statement with applause.
"This man is no poet.
Just look: his Hallmark shows it.
Why, see, he utilizes rhyme, symmetry and grammar!
He speaks without a stammer!
His sense of rhythm is too fine!
He does not use recondite words
or conjure ancient Latin verbs.
This man is an imposter!
I ask that his sentence be
the almost perceptible indignity
of removal from the Post-Modernistic roster."
The jury left in tears of joy, literally sequestered.
The defendant sighed in mild despair,
"Please, let me answer to my peers."
But how His Honor giggled then,
seeing no poets were let in.
Later, the clashing symbols of their pronouncements drove him mad
and he admitted both rhyme and reason were bad.
***
A well-known poet criticized this poem for being "journalistic." But then the poem is written from the point of view of a journalist who's covering the trial of a poet. The poem was completed by the end of my sophomore year in college.
I found this site called Poetry Soup
Here you can get applause from a group
So I started writing poems, none make the best
My family tells me to "give it a rest."
I need some tough love, some commenter to say
"Your talent is poor, go outside in the day."
Instead, the site policy is to always give praise
Can anything save me - I hope it's just a phase.
Every time I say a sentence, I think of a rhyme
For instance, "dime, time, buy some outshine"
Can't stop rhyming, can't stop writing
I can't get a life that is more exciting.
So to all you young men, sitting on that stoop
Stay away from Poetry Soup
Find yourself another hobby, get some fresh air
Don't be like me, stuck in this creative lair.
Searching for a word, sinking in despair.
‘ Constructive-Criticism … (An Oxymoron, For All But A Few) ’
Constructive-Criticism Is Good, It’s True
But, I’ve Only Seen It Used Properly, By A Few …
‘Cause, One Thing I Know, That I Have Seen
‘Some’ Use Criticism, Just To Be Mean …
Then, The Term Should Be: Destructive-Criticism
‘Cause, They Ain’t Even Getting Paid! … To Spout Poison In ‘Em
I Know Then, They Want To Abuse, in Jealous-Individualism
So, Maybe, They Need An Enema, or Have An Embolism
Coming Up (or while under Construction) I Was Told
And The Engineer-Advice, Was As Good As Gold
‘ If You Can’t Say Something Nice, Don’t Say Nothing’ At All’
So, I Don’t Bomb Somebody’s Building, Just To Watch Them Fall
Constructive-Criticism, Don’t Sic That Dog On Me
Take It and Go Bark-Up, Somebody Else’s Tree
Take A Look At Your Own, Before You Tell Me What’s Wrong
You Know What You Can Do With That … (and The Horse You Rode On)
And In The Words of ‘Tom Snyder’, (The Idea I Relate):
“Just ‘Cause I Think Somebody’s Trying To Kill Me … Don’t Mean They Ain’t!”
And, If You Don’t Like My Building, There’s The Door, Walk Away
I Don’t Need You Cutting Down, My Structure of What I Say
And If Negative-Criticism, Is Under Construction ... That’s A Front !
When Have You Ever Heard of Something Negative, Building-Up ?
Maybe Somebody Dropped Them On Their Head As A Child
But That’s No Excuse To Criticize, Somebody Else, or Their Style
And that ' True ', for A Few, I Meant at The Beginning
Here Are The Ones, I Accept Their Condescending:
GOD … Loved-Ones … Close Friends … (and Me)
‘Cause I Am My Own Worst-Critic, You See …
Constructive-Criticism, That’s an “””Oxymoron”””
And Look How That Word Is Spelt … Hon
(I Prefer The Term: Commentator ( Cause I Love to Comment ! )
‘Cause I Want To Polish Your Metal, Without Leaving A Dent
Poetry is subjective and can be written how you like;
There are many different ways in which to write.
You can put it down as prose or create some double rows,
Triangles, squares etc. are alright.
I had feedback yesterday from a person with no name;
I guess most of you have had some too.
He said my poetry’s bad, archaic and awfully RANK;
But I don’t write for him, I write for some of you.
Constructive criticism is welcomed by us all
To help us each achieve a higher goal.
To knock for knockings sake is very bad indeed
It makes a normal person less than whole!
If you have something to say, make sure you give a rock
To the person whom you wish to criticise.
Give them helpful hints; you’ll find that the response
Will illuminate from their ever grateful eyes!
Perhaps I was wrong
I should not have done those
And said the things which did nothing good
Neither for me nor for them
Instead, a great damage had been done to all
For the longer run, for longer relationships
I should have understood that
They have all sentiments just like I have
They get hurt as I get
I should have restrained
From winning debates
No prizes I win from their defeats
But I keep losing their hearts
Above all, I should have respected
Their honour and dignity
And recognized that they are too
Or belong to the race called human being
By no means has any one fetched
Humiliations and disrespect
Unconditionally I offer my apology
For my past misconducts
As well as for my misjudgments
In advance.
"You will miss the best thing if you keep your eyes shut"
TIME passes a pleasant soft waft,
Seems to be slow but not,
it fast as a mega aircraft.
The GLOBE gyrates like a wheel, however it's not,
Event and people within are metamorphosis.
Some generations have come and gone, now ours,
We are the new changing of clothes
Time forever survives.
Our journey here in life is for a while, in fact,
You almost reach your end, just a wee minute.
Yes, you have heard the fact.
But note; have you ever count
your years, how far have you grown? Perhaps
You may forecast what times it remains
For you and can you live long
Till you double your present age?
We all pray to live long,
While SHE and TIME the enemy laid siege.
Her love for you is lust,
Just to wear as cloth, but
something within you can never
Die if you plan to use it wise. Have you ever
Think or plan how to maintain
And protect you name?
Billions of men and women
Have come and gone without heard of them.
Have you ever anticipate how the Globe
Will see you as an eye?
There are a lot of great men and women
in history which their names are ringing from then
Till now like Maya Angelou, shel Sliversterin,
Emily Dickinson, Waft Whitman,
Williem Shakespere, Ben Jonson,
Robert Frost, etc. Name is a sky that is without an
End if it's being used perfect
If not, it's like a fire ablaze and then retreat
The sun that glows symbolized your present
Reflect to the moon that shines at night
Symbolized when you are defunct
If you use your name wise and perfect.
Please feel free to criticize to this, I need a flak critique. Thanks
there's improper usage
of the English language
how can one manage,
to read something so below average?!
oh, the grammatical errors,
and the punctuation terrors!
so many spelling horrors
none of what literature requires
lack of capitalization
and over dramatization
ruining the theme's creation
and the flow's demonstration
those who ignorantly criticize
have sadly failed to realize
that to capture a poem's essence
the poet must use creative license
to form interesting sentences
and put them in unique sequences
the poet must think artistically
and express emotion creatively
and therein lies the beauty
of writing poetry
That which you criticize is that which you become or experience.
The House I Fear Most Lives Within My Shoe,
Contains recordings of my utmost gaffes,
The other, mocks! (Thank God that there are Two!)
Within the front room (where Critics, cuds chew)
Are played the scenes where everybody LAUGHS!
The House I Fear Most Lives Within My Shoe.
And next to it, an organ-parlor, too!
Where musical ‘slips’ turn into giraffes!
The other, mocks! (Thank God that there are Two!)
The Worst: a Hall where all my Words Untrue
Come back at me in spears, spikes, stones and staffs!
The House I Fear Most Lives Within My Shoe.
And Last: a garden sewn only with Rue,
And stones carved with unthankful epitaphs…
The other, mocks! (Thank God that there are Two!)
I’m stuck in them! Though at my feet I hew,
I cannot cut these leather prisons off!
The House I Fear Most Lives Within My Shoe.
The other, mocks! (Thank GOD that there are Two!)
January 8, 2019
The Materials of
Criticism
- by Bob Atkinson
to look upon a word
fixed art
for value of the
whole or parts
begins a journey
demonstrated
to frustrate each of
the five senses
do we? could we? can
we?
here in the "here
and now"
produce our cultural
standing
by lining words in a
row
can we? do we? could
we?
put value on our art
or would it suffice
to percolate
ingredients in a pot
that which makes up
the whole
contains some parts
plus simple hope
many seeds of doubt,
some blind faith
loose fundamentals
warmed to percolate
boil this stew in an
open pot
wander over meanings
uncovered
string appetite of
mind along a line
of selfish devotion
to an adept mind
thus craving
credentials and
accolades
with independence of
well written pages
try as nature
creates a need
molding most to firm
fixed greed
avarice dependent,
an encircled fire
aspiration drawn
toward life's desire
direction fielded,
ego supplemented
when open rawness
becomes regimented
broadcast to those
who care about
this person's rage
who loudly shouts
simple signals of
directional flow
mixed with endless
personal selfdom
all nuance
transmitted within
the hope
of mending what's
perceived as broken
broken carries
diverse meanings
when seen with eyes
of different
teachings
broken, to some,
fits life so tight
the critic's words
lie dormant,
unlighted
when not in tune
with rational heart
words have no
meaning, a useless
art
art fulfills some
need of nature
to analyze for form
and flavor
tenderly we read
their stuff
then regurgitate our
lunch
India is a land of culture,
Where there people having faces of vulture,
India is a land of democarcy,
Where the people want to autocracy.
Rules are made against caste system,
Which have to face criticism,
But still it is not abolished,
Rather it is polished.
Caste system is the way to divide,
Between human and humane,
Such as brahimns,kshatriyas,
Shudras, Chandellas and Vaishyas.
We have to stop this practice,
What you know about about government tactics,
Equality is given to all,
It is only the development of all.
Today I was born
My days were gone
I want to live a fresh life
In case of the day I will be gone
And to refresh my past leave
And to less be a lion
I am a goon
I have received gong
But those days were gone
I am now young
In my days of young
I aimed to be the most strong
So that whenever I am going
People on the pavement would be trembling
However, I am a graduate
With force I finished my SHS grade, but
Now, each day stream drip
My eyes are faint and deep
Those days of not aged
I imitate my fellow friends
Which make us
A congenial friends
8/8/15
This write based on a man who use his youth a thuggery, but latter in future he realized his mistake.
Today I was born: human will be born twice before they die; I mean when One is of aged or grown old
Pavement: road side
Please I need criticism on this!
Constructive criticism
Is striving
To Become-The-Best-Version-Of-Yourself
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