Plum Tree (Made August 28th, 2025)

[aaminarrh]

( PLEASE READ FIRST: This is one of my first poems ever, I had someone studying poetry to look over it - however I would like some more insight, MAYBE into what type of poetry I am into, because I am unsure! Nice to meet you guys! ) 

Plum Tree
August 31st, 2025

(underlined= points I need to work on )

nostalgia is reluctant.

the waking sunlight peeks through the curtains
I can hear the faint laughter of my younger sister,
innocence that liberates the worries of reality -
soft pink tones of girlhood.

baby blue buttoned skies as she plays in the playground, only five.


I lie, grounded in the thoughts of my existence
a hot yellow flame hits the ring of my iris,
and what surrounds me are the paint strokes of emerald green, amongst are flowers - purple ones
sunlight burning the subtle tone of my skin
I let it burn the script of my memories onto my body
Do I run?

go! , go!
seek the shelter you so wish for,
hide from the orbit of time
choose to face forever, no mellowing
age can do nothing but bear you pain, right?

Hang onto the teared rope of the past
As crimson blossoms from the palms of your hands.

Threads of emotion and art become twined
The words of artists.. cloud the purity of my actions.
I sink, slowly into the grass.. consuming me in its blades.

be gone, the greyscale colours of emptiness!
Can you dig out what heart I have left shovelled in my soul?
Plant it,
to replace what was once a plum tree?
What was once before, bearing fruit

time is but a mere rot
yet here on the grass turned forest green I lie,

My sister fifteen, runs along the grey concrete - shed of her innocence
I can’t feel that waking beam of light hugging my essence.

Nostalgia is merely setting me back
But I can’t be rid of it

[Magpie]

Hi welcome to the site and thanks for the critiques that you've left on others poems. 
You've got a really interesting image driven poem about nostalgia here as a "reluctant" and "inevitable" force. Moving between two timelines you use colours well to symbolise different aspects, "soft pink" and "baby blue" to represent innocence, "greyscale" for emptiness. Some good images and lines, particularly, " I let it burn the script of my memories onto my body". 
I think you show a lot and then try to explain it too much sometimes. It's good to let your reader do some work. 
Firstly I've changed the alignment to the left. Centre alignment is much harder to read and only really used when writing a concrete poem in the shape of a plum tree perhaps.
Anyway...
I'll leave a couple of notes 

( PLEASE READ FIRST: This is one of my first poems ever, I had someone studying poetry to look over it - however I would like some more insight, MAYBE into what type of poetry I am into, because I am unsure! Nice to meet you guys! I GOTTA WARN YOU ITS LONG ) 

Plum Tree

Plum Tree - possibly consider a different title apart from the fact that it's mentioned in the poem, or even it's once existence, it seems to be misleading as it's not really about the plum tree 

August 31st, 2025 (8:51pm)   - the poem would benefit from punctuation and better line breaks. Also there is a lot that could be cut, for instance below speaking about a younger sister and "soft pink tones" along with "baby blue" is also implying, " innocence that liberates the worries of reality", let the reader get to it.

nostalgia is reluctant, it’s inevitable

the waking sunlight peeking through the curtains

I can hear the faint laughter of my younger sister, innocence that liberates the worries of reality - soft pink tones of girlhood

baby blue buttoned skies as she plays in the playground, only five

Consider experimenting with line breaks and leaving out what could be thought of as redundant. I've changed the stanza above by adding breaks and cutting a bit but it's still all yours. The punctuation also helps for clarity sometimes, although it's not always necessary and a lot of good poems are written without it.

Nostalgia is reluctant, it’s inevitable.

The waking sunlight 
peeks through the curtains.
I can hear the faint laughter 
of my younger sister,
as she plays, at the age of five.

Soft pink tones of girlhood
baby blue buttoned skies.

Try this throughout and find what you think works best.

I lie, grounded in the thoughts of my existence

a hot yellow flame hits the ring of my iris,

and what surrounds me are the paint strokes of emerald green, amongst are flowers - purple ones

sunlight burning the subtle tone of my skin

I let it burn the script of my memories onto my body

Do I run?

go! , go!

seek the shelter you so wish for,

hide from the orbit of time

choose to face forever, no mellowing

age can do nothing but bear you pain, right?

if you wish, hold onto what is left of your falsified, broken “happiness”. - I feel like a lot of this stanza could be assumed from the rest of the poem. Consider what you think is essential.

Hang onto the teared rope of the past - 'torn rope' - nice imagery 

As crimson blossoms from the palms of your hands.

Threads of emotion and art become twisted

The words of authors, poets, songwriters, artists.. cloud the purity of my actions.

I sink, slowly into the grass.. consuming me in its leaves.

be gone, the greyscale colours of emptiness!

Can you dig out what heart I have left shovelled in my soul?

Plant it,

to replace what was once a plum tree?

What was once before, bearing the fruits of my memories

I can only grasp onto its fruit for so long, time is but a mere rot

Yet here I am,

on the grass turned forest green I lie,

My sister fifteen, runs along the grey concrete - shed of her innocence

I can’t feel that waking beam of light hugging my essence,

I must accept that it can’t run back to me.

Nostalgia is merely setting me back  - how to say these two lines without saying them. Does the poem say it for you?

But I can’t be rid of it

Don't know what happened with the formatting, all the gaps have went 


Don't want to say too much when we're in 'basic critique' so I'll leave it there. Others may come along and comment on a different aspect.

Overall I like it, I like the images and use of colours and the metaphor is good. Just needs a bit of trimming .

Thanks for sharing.

[wasellajam]

Hi, aaminarrh, welcome to the Pen. I like your title as a symbol of hope, and the poem addressing its loss and desire for its return. I think the poem reads well even with its center justification which would usually be a real hindrance for me. I've put some notes below:

( PLEASE READ FIRST: This is one of my first poems ever, I had someone studying poetry to look over it - however I would like some more insight, MAYBE into what type of poetry I am into, because I am unsure! Nice to meet you guys! I GOTTA WARN YOU ITS LONG ) 

Plum Tree

Plum Tree

August 31st, 2025 (8:51pm)

nostalgia is reluctant, it’s inevitable
I'm unsure about this line as an opener, if you keep it I'd reduce it to "nostalgia is reluctant"
the waking sunlight peeking through the curtains
possible change of peeking to peeks
I can hear the faint laughter of my younger sister, innocence that liberates the worries of reality - soft pink tones of girlhood
Nice use of liberates.
baby blue buttoned skies as she plays in the playground, only five
With no punctuation after "five" I expected the thought to continue to "I lie"


I lie, grounded in the thoughts of my existence
I like the double meaning of "I lie". "thoughts of my existence" could be said in a more interesting way.
a hot yellow flame hits the ring of my iris,
"ring of my iris" reads unnecessarily "poetic" to me. Good image of stabbing light.
and what surrounds me are the paint strokes of emerald green, amongst are flowers - purple ones
Here I wanted a specific flower, then realized the iris was above, I think it could use some reworking.
sunlight burning the subtle tone of my skin
I let it burn the script of my memories onto my body
Beautiful 2 lines although I'd like a word other than "memories".
Do I run?

go! , go!
I like the action of these two lines after all the laying around.
seek the shelter you so wish for,
hide from the orbit of time
choose to face forever, no mellowing
These three lines work well until I hit "mellowing" I can't quite articulate why yet.
age can do nothing but bear you pain, right?
The double negative just weakens this for mme.
if you wish, hold onto what is left of your falsified, broken “happiness”.
This line is a little more Tell then Show, and "if you wish" doesn't suit, the narrator doesn't seem to have a choice.

Hang onto the teared rope of the past
As crimson blossoms from the palms of your hands.
Stigmata is a bit much for me, but blossomed is lovely, crimson overused and cliche.


Threads of emotion and art become twisted
Possibly twined in place of twisted, just a thought.
The words of authors, poets, songwriters, artists.. cloud the purity of my actions.
I think you could cut the list down to artists.
I sink, slowly into the grass.. consuming me in its leaves.
Consumed by its leaves, or blades might be nice here.

be gone, the greyscale colours of emptiness!

Can you dig out what heart I have left shovelled in my soul?
Plant it,
to replace what was once a plum tree?
What was once before, bearing the fruits of my memories
These lines are strong. Something seems off in shoveled and memories, ugh, Maybe "What was once before, bearing fruit.

I can only grasp onto its fruit for so long, time is but a mere rot
You might reduce this line to "time is but a mere rot"
Yet here I am,
on the grass turned forest green I lie,
My sister fifteen, runs along the grey concrete - shed of her innocence
I can’t feel that waking beam of light hugging my essence,
I must accept that it can’t run back to me.

These lines show a good passage of time. I think you can cut "I must accept that it can’t run back to me." you've said it in the line above.

Nostalgia is merely setting me back
But I can’t be rid of it
I don't know that the poem needs a summary.

So, these are a lot of notes in the Novice forum but they are just what I have to offer based on my own read. If you find one or points useful my time is well spent, I don't mean to overwhelm you, the poem is worth whatever work you decide to put into it.

A note on punctuation. It is half-assed in this poem, I suggest you try completing it and see if you like the poem better or not. Also, you have some capitalization of line starts that don't seem intentional.

Good luck with it, thanks for the read, I glad you posted it. I hope you enjoy the site!

[aaminarrh]

Hi welcome to the site and thanks for the critiques that you've left on others poems. 
You've got a really interesting image driven poem about nostalgia here as a "reluctant" and "inevitable" force. Moving between two timelines you use colours well to symbolise different aspects, "soft pink" and "baby blue" to represent innocence, "greyscale" for emptiness. Some good images and lines, particularly, " I let it burn the script of my memories onto my body". 
I think you show a lot and then try to explain it too much sometimes. It's good to let your reader do some work. 
Firstly I've changed the alignment to the left. Centre alignment is much harder to read and only really used when writing a concrete poem in the shape of a plum tree perhaps.
Anyway...
I'll leave a couple of notes 

( PLEASE READ FIRST: This is one of my first poems ever, I had someone studying poetry to look over it - however I would like some more insight, MAYBE into what type of poetry I am into, because I am unsure! Nice to meet you guys! I GOTTA WARN YOU ITS LONG ) 

Plum Tree

Plum Tree - possibly consider a different title apart from the fact that it's mentioned in the poem, or even it's once existence, it seems to be misleading as it's not really about the plum tree 

August 31st, 2025 (8:51pm)   - the poem would benefit from punctuation and better line breaks. Also there is a lot that could be cut, for instance below speaking about a younger sister and "soft pink tones" along with "baby blue" is also implying, " innocence that liberates the worries of reality", let the reader get to it.

nostalgia is reluctant, it’s inevitable

the waking sunlight peeking through the curtains

I can hear the faint laughter of my younger sister, innocence that liberates the worries of reality - soft pink tones of girlhood

baby blue buttoned skies as she plays in the playground, only five

Consider experimenting with line breaks and leaving out what could be thought of as redundant. I've changed the stanza above by adding breaks and cutting a bit but it's still all yours. The punctuation also helps for clarity sometimes, although it's not always necessary and a lot of good poems are written without it.

Nostalgia is reluctant, it’s inevitable.

The waking sunlight 
peeks through the curtains.
I can hear the faint laughter 
of my younger sister,
as she plays, at the age of five.

Soft pink tones of girlhood
baby blue buttoned skies.

Try this throughout and find what you think works best.

I lie, grounded in the thoughts of my existence

a hot yellow flame hits the ring of my iris,

and what surrounds me are the paint strokes of emerald green, amongst are flowers - purple ones

sunlight burning the subtle tone of my skin

I let it burn the script of my memories onto my body

Do I run?

go! , go!

seek the shelter you so wish for,

hide from the orbit of time

choose to face forever, no mellowing

age can do nothing but bear you pain, right?

if you wish, hold onto what is left of your falsified, broken “happiness”. - I feel like a lot of this stanza could be assumed from the rest of the poem. Consider what you think is essential.

Hang onto the teared rope of the past - 'torn rope' - nice imagery 

As crimson blossoms from the palms of your hands.

Threads of emotion and art become twisted

The words of authors, poets, songwriters, artists.. cloud the purity of my actions.

I sink, slowly into the grass.. consuming me in its leaves.

be gone, the greyscale colours of emptiness!

Can you dig out what heart I have left shovelled in my soul?

Plant it,

to replace what was once a plum tree?

What was once before, bearing the fruits of my memories

I can only grasp onto its fruit for so long, time is but a mere rot

Yet here I am,

on the grass turned forest green I lie,

My sister fifteen, runs along the grey concrete - shed of her innocence

I can’t feel that waking beam of light hugging my essence,

I must accept that it can’t run back to me.

Nostalgia is merely setting me back  - how to say these two lines without saying them. Does the poem say it for you?

But I can’t be rid of it

Don't know what happened with the formatting, all the gaps have went 


Don't want to say too much when we're in 'basic critique' so I'll leave it there. Others may come along and comment on a different aspect.

Overall I like it, I like the images and use of colours and the metaphor is good. Just needs a bit of trimming .

Thanks for sharing.

Thankyou so much for the critiques!! I really had a blank moment with the torn rope part lol!! But I'll definitely take this into consideration and cut down the poem a bit!!

---

Hi, aaminarrh, welcome to the Pen. I like your title as a symbol of hope, and the poem addressing its loss and desire for its return. I think the poem reads well even with its center justification which would usually be a real hindrance for me. I've put some notes below:

( PLEASE READ FIRST: This is one of my first poems ever, I had someone studying poetry to look over it - however I would like some more insight, MAYBE into what type of poetry I am into, because I am unsure! Nice to meet you guys! I GOTTA WARN YOU ITS LONG ) 

Plum Tree

Plum Tree

August 31st, 2025 (8:51pm)

nostalgia is reluctant, it’s inevitable
I'm unsure about this line as an opener, if you keep it I'd reduce it to "nostalgia is reluctant"
the waking sunlight peeking through the curtains
possible change of peeking to peeks
I can hear the faint laughter of my younger sister, innocence that liberates the worries of reality - soft pink tones of girlhood
Nice use of liberates.
baby blue buttoned skies as she plays in the playground, only five
With no punctuation after "five" I expected the thought to continue to "I lie"


I lie, grounded in the thoughts of my existence
I like the double meaning of "I lie". "thoughts of my existence" could be said in a more interesting way.
a hot yellow flame hits the ring of my iris,
"ring of my iris" reads unnecessarily "poetic" to me. Good image of stabbing light.
and what surrounds me are the paint strokes of emerald green, amongst are flowers - purple ones
Here I wanted a specific flower, then realized the iris was above, I think it could use some reworking.
sunlight burning the subtle tone of my skin
I let it burn the script of my memories onto my body
Beautiful 2 lines although I'd like a word other than "memories".
Do I run?

go! , go!
I like the action of these two lines after all the laying around.
seek the shelter you so wish for,
hide from the orbit of time
choose to face forever, no mellowing
These three lines work well until I hit "mellowing" I can't quite articulate why yet.
age can do nothing but bear you pain, right?
The double negative just weakens this for mme.
if you wish, hold onto what is left of your falsified, broken “happiness”.
This line is a little more Tell then Show, and "if you wish" doesn't suit, the narrator doesn't seem to have a choice.

Hang onto the teared rope of the past
As crimson blossoms from the palms of your hands.
Stigmata is a bit much for me, but blossomed is lovely, crimson overused and cliche.


Threads of emotion and art become twisted
Possibly twined in place of twisted, just a thought.
The words of authors, poets, songwriters, artists.. cloud the purity of my actions.
I think you could cut the list down to artists.
I sink, slowly into the grass.. consuming me in its leaves.
Consumed by its leaves, or blades might be nice here.

be gone, the greyscale colours of emptiness!

Can you dig out what heart I have left shovelled in my soul?
Plant it,
to replace what was once a plum tree?
What was once before, bearing the fruits of my memories
These lines are strong. Something seems off in shoveled and memories, ugh, Maybe "What was once before, bearing fruit.

I can only grasp onto its fruit for so long, time is but a mere rot
You might reduce this line to "time is but a mere rot"
Yet here I am,
on the grass turned forest green I lie,
My sister fifteen, runs along the grey concrete - shed of her innocence
I can’t feel that waking beam of light hugging my essence,
I must accept that it can’t run back to me.

These lines show a good passage of time. I think you can cut "I must accept that it can’t run back to me." you've said it in the line above.

Nostalgia is merely setting me back
But I can’t be rid of it
I don't know that the poem needs a summary.

So, these are a lot of notes in the Novice forum but they are just what I have to offer based on my own read. If you find one or points useful my time is well spent, I don't mean to overwhelm you, the poem is worth whatever work you decide to put into it.

A note on punctuation. It is half-assed in this poem, I suggest you try completing it and see if you like the poem better or not. Also, you have some capitalization of line starts that don't seem intentional.

Good luck with it, thanks for the read, I glad you posted it. I hope you enjoy the site!

Thankyou so much, lovely meeting u guys! I can totally see a new perspective looking at it this way, I could definitely work on punctuation regarding my poem and there are some things I need to tweak and cut down as I also believe it is a bit long -- I'll definitely update the poem on this page when I'm done! Thankyou so much for the help tho !! PS. i dont know how to edit my original post on this thread its confusing me rip!!

[wasellajam]

Just click on the link in my sig and it will explain how to post an edit. If you need more help just ask

[milo]

Hello and welcome to the PigPen!  Congratulations on your poetry journey.  As for what poetry you would be interested in - I would recommend the confessionals from the confessional movement - think Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton and maybe a little Lowell or Berryman.

First the title "Plum Tree"  - I think that is fine - interesting enough though I don't think you need the date.

( PLEASE READ FIRST: This is one of my first poems ever, I had someone studying poetry to look over it - however I would like some more insight, MAYBE into what type of poetry I am into, because I am unsure! Nice to meet you guys! ) 

Plum Tree
August 31st, 2025

(underlined= points I need to work on )

nostalgia is reluctant.

ok - my first though tit this - instead of telling me that nostalgia is reluctant - show me - paint me a picture and then I can decide if it is indeed reluctant.  My second thought is that you start out with an abstraction and then immediately try to personify - I would recommend avoiding both of those techniques if you can or at least using them to a minimum or moving them away from your opening line.

the waking sunlight peeks through the curtains
I can hear the faint laughter of my younger sister,
innocence that liberates the worries of reality -
soft pink tones of girlhood.

There is some interesting here but still a heavy reliance on abstractions - innocence, worries, reality, girlhood.  Also, not to be pedantic but do you hear faint laughter or do you faintly hear laughter because they convey 2 completely different things.

baby blue buttoned skies as she plays in the playground, only five.


I lie, grounded in the thoughts of my existence
a hot yellow flame hits the ring of my iris,
and what surrounds me are the paint strokes of emerald green, amongst are flowers - purple ones
sunlight burning the subtle tone of my skin
I let it burn the script of my memories onto my body
Do I run?

go! , go!
seek the shelter you so wish for,
hide from the orbit of time
choose to face forever, no mellowing
age can do nothing but bear you pain, right?

Hang onto the teared rope of the past
As crimson blossoms from the palms of your hands.

Threads of emotion and art become twined
The words of artists.. cloud the purity of my actions.
I sink, slowly into the grass.. consuming me in its blades.

be gone, the greyscale colours of emptiness!
Can you dig out what heart I have left shovelled in my soul?
Plant it,
to replace what was once a plum tree?
What was once before, bearing fruit

time is but a mere rot
yet here on the grass turned forest green I lie,

My sister fifteen, runs along the grey concrete - shed of her innocence
I can’t feel that waking beam of light hugging my essence.

Nostalgia is merely setting me back
But I can’t be rid of it

I don't want to dissect too much as this is only basic - but areas where it is strongest is when you use real concrete images but a lot of that is diluted when you fall back to using abstractions.  I would consider clipping every abstraction out and try instead to refer to the thought using concrete images.

Thanks for posting and welcome to the pen!