Poetry Forum

Full Version: Critique my critique basic
You're currently viewing a stripped down version of our content. View the full version with proper formatting.
here I started over, critiquing my own poems instead

Hurricane Sestina

Lush fertile land glistening near the coast
stirs with anticipation.  The on-going 
newscast update forecasts every minute I don't like the repetition of 'cast'
in living rooms across the state.  People
who've been through this before tell the children
there's nothing to worry about, it will
all be okay, as thunder shakes their walls and will,
wishing they also left the coast
with the others.  A whole week with children
during a hurricane and already, tempers are going
haywire.  All the people
left in town hold hands, counting each minute.
The mailbox flies off, the roof could go any minute.
Waters dripping through the ceiling, the windows and doors, and will
continue rising up the stairs, destroying livelihoods these people,
whose only dream to coast
through life unharmed's going this is pretty clunky line
out with children's the rest of this sentence is pretty rough
tears.  The children, 
in a calm minute,
have no idea they're going
to feel the full force of wind shoving them in mass against the wall.  Will
nothing be left, all life washed away or flattened to the coast? I've really been put in the middle of it I feel though
How long before they total the number of people
missing?  How long til it's over? People
feel helpless like children
as the non-stop onslaught persistently pummels the coast. Non stop and persistent are the same, onslaught and pummel are the same
Every second turns to minutes, minutes
to hours.  The noise and darkness will
make an exhausted mind crumble.  The weather going
strong two more days, three more and powers going too much time has passed too quickly in one line
on despite the devastation.  People
start picking up the pieces, good will
and charities reaching out to children
who survived, all the men and women it
hurt, determined to live along the coast. 

The coast has a million reasons people
are always going back, bringing their children.
I don't doubt a minute they always will.   
Pretty weak last three lines, maybe you should start with a strong ending and edit the rest to fit the new words, I like the symmetry in between the stanzas and off balance line endings.  Pretty cool overall hope to see what you do with it?

Because of the length this feels basic to me, mild would have more line by line comments
An interesting concept, trying to use the same tools on one's own work as on others'.   Seems to be apart from the normal creative process, though, unless it's one of those cases where you return to a poem after months or years and can stand outside and critique your former self's attempts.  Was anything learned in the interim?

when you write poems, do you write as part of a tradition of everliving poetry, or do you write as an impulse in a moment, or do you write as a hobby, or do you write . . .

(08-23-2021, 04:45 AM)rowens Wrote: [ -> ]dukealien,

when you write poems, do you write as part of a tradition of everliving poetry, or do you write as an impulse in a moment, or do you write as a hobby, or do you write . . .


Embrace the healing power of "and."
I think this is a good opportunity to get to know each other poetically, and stop beating around the I post this you post that bush.

What is it like, experience, as you are writing?

This is an open question.

I'm not going to read and critique the poem.

When I'm good I'm good. When I'm bad I'm better.

And doesn't cut it because it's not a knife but a butter.

We don't want butter we want eggs.

Your egg, exclusively, whoever is reading this.