Long Critiqued Poems
Long Critiqued Poems. Below are the most popular long Critiqued by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Critiqued poems by poem length and keyword.
Strange thought just entered my head
What if I critiqued my own poems
D'ya think I'd really be tough on myself
Or would you detect a slight bias tone
Tried using the criteria of accepted norms
I'd be down at the bottom, no bones
But for humorous verse and originality
Call me Oliver Wendell Holmes
First I followed time honoured patterns
Of poets that have gone before
But that's not what makes a poet of note
Originality is what raises his score
So go ahead and break all the rules
That have been in place forever
Develop your style of creative writing
And be proud of your endeavour
Not once did our physical paths ever cross,
nor heard we each others voice. But her
picture was observed after being informed
of her demise. After hearing the news, I did recall
that name Devonshire. But for the life of me, I could
not remember where or how, nor how long it had been.
I could not recall any communication via Poetry Soup.
So I searched the comments section-In/Out Boxes,
and found nothing from or to Carolyn Devonshire.
I could not let go of that name and continued searching.
I then wondered if maybe I had entered one of her contests.
It was there that I rediscovered Devonshire, and there, a whole new
world of beauty and inspiration began, taking an entirely fresh turn.
Indeed, our poetry paths had crossed rather pleasingly, and I proceeded to explore. I was pleased to realize that I had entered eight of Carolyn's contests in nearly three years. The first entry was themed, Happy 100th Birthday, and the title of my poem was 36,000 Days. I did not place in that first contest with Carolyn. However, the next seven contests would yield one 4th and one 5th placement, and five 3rd placements. I am blessed and truly honored to have been critiqued and judged by Carolyn Devonshire.
I was deeply moved when I discovered that the last contest was judged on March 1, 2021 and themed, "Vanishing". I was moved deeper still when I considered the first word of my poem's title-"GOODBYE Common Sense". At this point, it feels like I know Caroyn and her entire family, as tears fill my eyes. My condolences to the entire family, and may The Lord comfort you in your loss. Choicest blessing. Curtis, a friend.
081321PSCtest, Tributes to Carolyn, Constance La France
Tribute to a great poet. 1P
You get to have a life review when you die -
or so I am told.
The hope of a do-over has me living here still
on this tiny blue planet on the far edge of nowhere,
with the thought of endless second chances.
Supposedly, when the movie of my life
plays out its going to be critiqued,
It will be hard to look away,
to hum quietly to myself
during the embarrassing stuff
pretending it wasn’t me,
just some bad actor, in a B-movie.
Of course I will play down the good,
smugness can take you only so far.
Meanwhile my search for God continues.
Perhaps he is a ghost in my movie,
perhaps the Creator wrote the script,
meaning again – not my fault.
I hope I get a chance to self-edit,
to cut out the boring, the mediocre,
the addictive crap,
erasing forever the jerk and the fool.
I don’t know why
all those heart-busting tragedies,
had to be recorded,
I’m more suited to light comedy.
I want that ghostwriter of my story
to admit he exaggerated,
to confess that I was never really there
in that long-winded plot;
that I was the sole audience
in his empty theater
detached from the muddle of a life,
a play that he deliberately screwed up
just to make me look bad.
Pain—the best part of being human
Pain—the worse part of being me
Pain—a process of refining
Pain—an aftermath of being mean
Pain—the longings of young people
Pain—a blessing or a curse
Pain is just pain
Nothing more and nothing less
Pain—a redflag to the carefree
Pain—a driving force for me
Pain—a temple for the heartless
Pain—the darkness I could see
Pain—a burden for the childless
Pain—the route for you to bear your kids
Pain is some pain
Something here(??) and something there(??)
Pain—the cost of your tattooing
Pain—a trademark of your sin
Pain—a symptom of you living
Pain—a yeast to your limping
Pain—a reward for your heartbreak
Pain—a cup y'all must taste
Pain is much pain
Some things hurt and some things burn
Pain—a thing we hate to feel
Pain—a sign of _this is real_
Pain—a sting that doesn't kill
Pain—this isn't part of our deal
Pain—the birth of my recklessness
Pain—the death of my kindliness
Pain has gain
Body piercings are beautiful but it does pain
Imagine you living without pain
You'd bleed to death yet feel nothing
You'd be betrayed yet not hurt
You'd never cry because
You can't feel pain
Pain will be a myth
I wonder if we'd enjoy life without pain
How much more of childbirth
Posted on 10th June, 2020
Critiqued by Tampi Lilian and Yacit Telfim
Form:
Resonation
no-one at first heard the tumult
the question to the arts,
take that
scythe rip that canvas crack that bronze
bust that marble
shatter it to shards
I heard the howl of a suffering soul
most recent in the line of bards…
no-one at first heard the cries
or played those tarot cards…
the prophecy was grim
gate-keepers of the holy shroud
did not acknowledge him
critics dismissed
professors critiqued
but she's' burst forth from the psyche and that collective conscience we all have though not ready for her resonated the soul
turning topsy turvy upside down blasted from with in
you old masters--
keepers of the kingdom blasted by a rebel yell
most foul
the Howl she barks a new tune with with syntax and symbols unacceptable
to all but a loon
we know it now we look out the horizon from the rim
She's here she's born
he bellowed the boon
And she anew will return again
I heard it once the howl of the suffering soul…
More'n nine months on...
and still I feel infuriated at myself
concerning squandered funds
passively, senselessly, and willingly
surrendered nest egg
to computer hackers
(imposters, jackknifing, and liquidating)
coercing me to forfeit funds,
whereby yours truly (me) blindsided
thru convincing telephonic dialogue
witnessing unquestioned trust
I unquestioningly, unerringly, and unblinkingly
carried out instructions
essentially cadging, depleting, and exhausting,
checking and savings accounts (mine)
courtesy convincing scheme
yoking naïveté (mine)
with FAKE conspiratorial claims
Citizens Bank tellers
linkedin as thieving magpies
(twittering bird brain analogy
hatched courtesy yours truly – me)
once ridiculous ruse beak came obvious,
I never ceased
maligning self as half cracked egghead
repeatedly replaying telephonic scenario
only this time
with home grown perspicacity triumphant
and fraudsters, marauders, and usurpers
harangued, interrogated, and jailed
critiqued, maligned, and whipped
courtesy just law of the land.
Clear as day,
I still recall the bloke
who chose one alias
(probably quite a few
in his bag of tricks)
videlicet Harvey Specter,
he coaxed at least one poor sucker
(the writer of these words)
to fork over his life savings
without yours truly batting an eye,
whose gullibility now legion
among the posse of scoundrels
sharing the ease with which
money plucked out figurative fingers
(like taking candy from a child)
diminishing paucity of integrity,
increasing perspicacity of acuity,
where wool will never
be pulled over my eyes
(ewe can bet my bottom dollar)
against being fleeced,
and now a heightened awareness
a wretched costly life lesson
inflicting a painful financial contusion
additionally severely wrecking, pummeling,
and bruising psyche suddenly woke
keenly alert to the bad to the bone
doggone wicked wily weasel ways
of unrepentant rapscallions.
Revealing creative scholarly zeal
surely devoid of grammatical flaws
well-written; thus, granted excellence-seal…
I’m the muse critiqued by your teacher-laws.
Form-compliance, syllable count??? alright
perfect lay-out presentation --- no doubt
marked by unique taste of stylish insight…
I’m the piece in your perimeter’s route.
Exposing heart’s angst, guilt, gloom, faith and bliss
midst peace, love, joy, hope via God's truth-glow
my theme bursts vividly no one can miss…
I’m the poem along your requirements’ flow.
I’m my dear poet’s masterpiece, indeed best
Judge not* my worth, blinded by bias-pest.
*John 7:24 Judge not according to the appearance, but judge righteous judgment.
May 11, 2021
7th place, "JUDGE NOT LEST YE BE" Sonnet Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by John lawless; judged on 5/29/2021.
1st place, "ALL YOURS (May 29)" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 5/30/2021.
You see,
Majority of my time is the concerned thought of,
You, with me.
A foolish fantasy,
A just and content concept of,
You, with me.
You see,
I’ve critiqued and brutally criticized myself thinking of,
You, with me.
Change in habits, self-harm,
Drained myself, mentally and physically, at the possibility of,
You, with me.
However, you’re blameless.
You see,
It’s my fault for ever thinking of,
You, with me.
For even hoping, at the tiniest of attention you give,
And to the minimal energy you pour out.
For following like a lost puppy whilst you lead me on.
For ever dreaming, and wishing to see,
You, with me.
You see,
Perhaps I’m a bit senile for,
I have YET to grasp the fact that,
We will never be.
Epilogue
(And now I have, the notion of us to EVER BE, devours me, as I’ve always preferred the relationship we had in my head to the one we HAD in reality.)
Aeilnorvy.S
Strangest thought just entered my head
What if I critiqued my own poems
D'ya think I'd really be tough on myself
Or would you detect a slight bias tone
Using the criteria of accepted norms
I'd be down at the bottom, no bones
But for humorous verse and originality
Call me Oliver Wendell Holmes
First I followed time honoured patterns
Of poets that have gone on before
But that's not what makes a poet of note
Originality is what raises his score
So go ahead and break all the rules
That have been in place forever
Develop your style of creative writing
And be proud of your endeavour
(My apologies to Oliver Wendell Holmes!)
© Jack Ellison 2013
Lifeblood of democracy hemorrhaging
ousting the "FAKE" president only recourse
to staunch impending grim demise,
since forefathers drafted
United States Constitution
ratified more'n two centuries ago
hoi polloi must take to the streets
denouncing severe curtailment
impinging sacred freedom of speech
linkedin with paramount bedrock provision
accessing unvarnished flint stoned "truth,"
nonetheless commander in chief
he quakingly, staunchly, vociferously...
excoriates, lacerates, repudiates...
one damning hermetically sealed,
iniquitous airtight, vacuum packed
flagrant misuse of power,
(not to mention nepotism)
invidious, insidious, injurious... infractions
incontestable, incontrovertible, contemptible...
significant melange in führer
re: hating deplorably
crooked basely barren
factual exposé after another,
deft correspondents all not quiet
along western front
(I heard Maria - mull remark)
bring "to light" execrable,
lamentable reprehensible...
gross transgressions
commander in chief
significantly overstepped
Pulitzer prize winning
prestigious storied publications
scathingly trounced, pillaried,
lambasted, insulted, denounced,
butchered, critiqued, demonized,
fricassed, gored, humiliated,...
pummeled, quartered, reviled
courageously expounding fiend
ensconced within his Taj Mahal
impregnable donjon, whereat he trumpets
laurels asper, nonpareil administration
laying groundless accusations
baring his white fangs,
twittering, naysaying, mocking.. supreme
renown gifted by "honest Abe"
recalcitrant commander in chief,
who refutes objectionable
dogged investigative journalism
every step of the way,
where dedicated news gatherers
risk life and limb
firing line reportage troopers
ferreting (foxlike) he/she
doth gopher precious nuggets
uncover alarming undisputable details
impossible to refute raw bits
agent provocateur freely colluding
immediately hashtashed poppycock
smarmy, snooty, snappy
beastly capital one ogre
blatantly castigating diligent endeavors
oblivious pie in sky
delusional egotistic haughtiness
bobblehead vilified by silent majority.