Long Criticize Poems
Long Criticize Poems. Below are the most popular long Criticize by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Criticize poems by poem length and keyword.
You have heard friends
criticize someone for showing
little regret...
for the wrong done
without thought!
Will they ever know...
how much hurt
there is yet?
Oh,but the heart that love forgives...
everyone...everything quickly;
oh,but the heart that loves forgives...
because it can forget so suddenly!
We have left alone memories
of days,of times gone by us...
and like the loss of someone:
they are too painful to be remembered;
can we learn how to be
more compassionate and wise?
The kinder we are,
the better we become,
but allowing the grudge to linger
and not showing forgiveness
or, at least, trying to make real changes..
can be so unfair!
Oh,but the heart that loves forgives...
everyone everything quickly;
oh,but the heart that love forgives...
because it can forget so suddenly!
The publisher of Roald Dahl’s books
Thought changes should be made
To make the books “inclusive,”
But attention has been paid
With many writers speaking out
To criticize the plan
(Despite the fact that Dahl’s ideas
Made many not a fan).
An example that I read of
Would remove the use of “fat”
If a character was overweight –
Now what’s the use of that?
What they’d substitute, I wonder;
Still, most children are aware
Of dishonesty in writing
As in life, which isn’t fair.
Yet another word replacement
Would be “parent” used instead
Of both “mother” and of “father,”
If one’s gone – divorced or dead.
Or if someone has two mommies
Or two dads, perhaps they mused
That by substituting “parent,”
Kids would not then be confused.
Still, a writer’s words are sacred
And reflective of the times,
Therefore, posthumous replacements
Feel like literary crimes.
Now the publisher’s decided,
After unexpected flak,
There’ll be two competing versions,
Which, to me, seems out of whack.
where does love go
when it leaves the even flow
of having and not having
the romance and the unknown
when the one that sleeps beside you
no longer seems beside you
and arguments leave you all alone
with your misdeeds. mistakes and groans
and hideous memories take hold
cruelties and vicious words are thrown
the point of no return has been past
the final argument surely the last
when last pleas have been wept
and final blows have been dealt
truly there is no hope for
the one with whom for years i slept
and in my loneliest hours i wept
are my feelings something inept
to the laws of God
where is justice now
it's vengeance must compensate
somehow
but silent are the wheels of justice
and unfair the time is to repair
the injustice i have done
sleep. rest while my fight is down
for surely if you were awake i would clown
but moments have past when i wish
the old you was around
that part of you that my love could arouse
sleep and dream of someplace better
where my bitterness is from you sheltered
safe from words that criticize
opinions that epitomize
and hide behind the disguise
of hatred and despise
against love our realities compromised
without success visualized
have come unfortunately to realize
our doom and demise
farewell, not so distant past
hello despair at last
with hearty destain we crash
with the ever remembered
love of the past
Some people think they’re talented
When clearly, they are not.
Yet maybe they are better off,
Believing that they’ve got
The kind of skills worth noticing,
Perhaps to lead to fame,
A place where everybody
Everywhere will know their name.
Yet others criticize themselves,
Believing that they lack
Whatever talents that might earn
A pat upon the back.
No matter what they try to do,
It seems to come out wrong,
So to those more accomplished types,
They never will belong.
The truth is often in between,
For how we are perceived
Is often quite the opposite
Of what we have believed.
Yet it might be impossible
To burrow deep inside
To change the way we see ourselves,
And most have never tried.
This is another age of amazing discovery,
and teens are drown into its magical light
by taking giant steps to keep up with technology;
and yet older folks stare at them with fright.
I won't get angry, or laugh at them and criticize,
but they do certain things that aren't allowed;
parents don't provoke your children to anger, understand...
by giving them space to breath, to think they doing wrong;
weren't we the same rebelling against them by playing that song
too loud and slamming the door and not taking their advice?
Here's my dislikes: teens, put away those iPods for a few hours:
read a good book and watch educational TV programs;
hang out with good friends who don't drink, curse or smoke pot,
and in the long run, you see things in a new prospective and learn a lot!
How the prudes punish
The romantic ravisher's reign
With words dipped in disdain
They feign
Righteous rights to write
A complaint
How...insane
Layered in literature, love
Lived and lives and lusts
For expression
Different terminology
Doesn't change its physicality
Read....Feed!
Need driven lines
By a priest....
TO HIS MISTRESS GOING TO BED*
explicit and yet
Holy sonnets flowed
From the same mind...
How they glowed
Lines so divine
Sublime
Sacred then sensual
Sensual then sacred
Same soul source
His choice
And mine....
LET THEM SHINE!!!
Don't criticize/satirize
The poet with hungry eyes
If you don't feel the flame
done you dare blame!
For shame
Those who've never known
Intercourse of words and soul
Be silent...
Pass on by
Don't propagate a lie
X-rated alibi
Don't deny
Sensuality's right to speak!
Eileen Manassian
*one of my favourite poets, John Donne wrote some of the most powerful spiritual sonnets and some of the most sensual rhymes. He's lauded as a great literary contemporary of Shakespeare. To His Mistress Going to Bed is an example of his sensual poetry. He was a priest. There's a time for everything.
I was inspired by Richard's latest poem to write this piece in defence of sensual poetry...
At one time loud rock and roll music
Would drive me up the wall
Guess I must have really mellowed out
It no longer upsets me at all
Either that or I'm losing my hearing
That could be the reason
Whichever the case it's sure a relief
To finally get rid of those demons
My son Scottie is into loud music
Middle aged but still hasn't lost it
So loud it blasts you out of your chair
Your knickers get bunched up and knotted
Each to his own that's the way it should be
No one should complain or criticize
We're all here for a very short while
So the secret is to compromise
At one time loud rock and roll music
Would drive me up the wall
Guess I must have really mellowed out
It no longer upsets me at all
© Jack Ellison 2015
One may easily
Criticize against another;
And say something sour
Even to a new stranger.
Severe sentence
May he judge at first glance;
Many mistakes he sees,
Attacking at any given chance.
Wise man says
Some sort of a reminder;
Though nobody's perfect,
Judge not the book by its cover.
Before you state
Something on the air;
Better think not only twice
But ten times over.
Don't be too proud
To stand taller and bigger;
Nor say that you know everything,
Instead, think others as wiser.
Hard-hitting declaration
Turns lamb into a tiger;
While soft-spoken opinion
Cools down the fire of anger.
Positive praises
Mirror man's meekness;
Negative notes and critical comments
Make him dumb and speechless.
Speak easing expression
With truth and honesty;
Smile and fondly say
A sweet statement with sincerity.
You spoke of deceivers as if you were wise,
warning of damage hidden behind disguise.
You described their silence, their calculated lies,
how they vanish in shadows and weaponize goodbyes.
You claimed you were different, morally high-rise,
a seeker of truth with honorable eyes.
But ego loves mirrors more than it loves advice,
and virtue can be a beautifully polished device.
You offered soft words, measured and precise,
wrapped in affection warm as paradise.
Warmth without courage turns quickly to cold ice,
and comfort without honesty comes with a price.
Strange how the loudest voices criticize
the very reflection they refuse to recognize.
Condemning the mask while perfecting the guise,
building a kingdom of carefully curated replies.
You prayed for the “real one,” spoke holy and nice,
but hid behind distance, as timid as mice.
Truth knocked once, perhaps twice,
but ego chose silence over sacrifice.
One day the performance will no longer suffice,
no audience left to applaud your artifice.
And there in the quiet, no filters, no ties,
you will meet your reflection without compromise.
No sermon, no stage, no flattering lights,
just you and the weight of what you despise.
And perhaps in that stillness, stripped of disguise,
you will finally see truth through unguarded eyes.
*S.Ü*
why criticize when you don't even know
the pain inside I feel, I do not show
you just assume and think that it's alright
to voice opinions though they're meant to slight
why break what's left of pieces of my heart?
the wounds inflicted bleed and sting and smart!
I try to smile and bear this heavy pain
but censure makes the doubt pour down like rain
the burdens that I bear are mine alone
remember dear, I'm flesh; I'm not of stone
before you throw your words and run to play
just stop and think of what you do and say
I'm crushed; I'm hurt; I'm angry; can't you see,
For you prejudged intent, but don’t know me
Perhaps the lines I write reveal my soul
"Anonymous" will help to make me whole
I wrote of things I know of, things I've seen
Perhaps a path on which you’ve never been
So please take care when wanting to critique
The one behind the poem’s not a freak
Where would we be if great ones like Shakespeare
Could not write of the gory due to fear
What if his bawdy writes were censored too
Would world devoid of Literature please you?
So live and then let live; let poets free
To write of life and death and ecstasy
The words once penned will live and testify
Of one who lived and now in death must lie
Eileen Manassian