Story Poems Seeking Honest Critique
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poetry about Dreams, Fantasy and Fiction
Honest critique has been requested for these poems. Want to learn the art of critique? Join our Honestly Crafted Critique group.
It was ironic
I just wrote you the longest letter – it was about irony, I was telling you a little about it. It was at least a 500 word essay; what happened then, and then and there yesterday, and how it happened again today, and how a white plastic bag just went flying by; they terrify Dolly, she barks at them incessantly when they land against the fence. I've decided to claim that its a ghost — silly thing anyway. I don't even know what its about, such as living a life, one after the other and on and on. I ignore it usually because it goes on constantly. It’s scary sometimes, you know, you're the...
78 reads
6 Comments
The Hunter
He wanted desperately to take her out into the cold wilderness for the hunt. Heading up the trail at the break of day, the trees flickering in the soft orange warm glow of dawns light meandering through the whitetail woods. Tracking and hunting deer in the mountains. Climbing through dense leafless trees. The ground softly covered in the carpet of leaves ensuring their footsteps remain unheard. Staying down wind, barely exhaling so that not even the mist of of their breath hanging in the cold air would give them away. Teaching her the importance of tracking and the thrill of the hunt itself....
81 reads
2 Comments
One Dandelion
Three Word Inspiration Challenge.
Saliva,Primitive,Dandelion
The saliva on the tip of the blade was bagged
and on it's way to be tested for D.N.A.
Eye witnesses told police there was always
a weird almost hypnotic primitive music coming
from the house next door.
Later that day and before the sunset,
I noticed a soft little doll with long black hair,
leaning against a wooden post in the rain
holding a single dandelion
in her tiny right hand.
Saliva,Primitive,Dandelion
The saliva on the tip of the blade was bagged
and on it's way to be tested for D.N.A.
Eye witnesses told police there was always
a weird almost hypnotic primitive music coming
from the house next door.
Later that day and before the sunset,
I noticed a soft little doll with long black hair,
leaning against a wooden post in the rain
holding a single dandelion
in her tiny right hand.
42 reads
2 Comments
Elizabethan Ghostly Doppleganger's Apparition & Dreams Like Such
she
shows up in the damndest places......
pony
tail
105
lbs...
but always long gone......shocked
th'fck
outta I'me'mind
on BART
last
month....yknowlike
ye just want to hold her
again, no matter 'who' she 'is', [&sure
aint
her ]
fckn gone so long
fckn gone so long........why would one
give a damn a
bout...
shows up in the damndest places......
pony
tail
105
lbs...
but always long gone......shocked
th'fck
outta I'me'mind
on BART
last
month....yknowlike
ye just want to hold her
again, no matter 'who' she 'is', [&sure
aint
her ]
fckn gone so long
fckn gone so long........why would one
give a damn a
bout...
60 reads
8 Comments
Wish On The Delta
![restricted poem](/images/extremecontent.jpg)
63 reads
0 Comments
Lost In Paradise
I had a dream that I was shipwrecked.
On a island with a beautiful kingdom on it.
And I was greeted by a prince that helped me to my feet.
Asked me my name and pleaded for me to be his date for a ball tonight.
But just as I was about to utter my reply.
A storm broke out overhead.
Lightning struck the castle's tower and a fire broke out.
People died.
Lives were lost.
And it was all because of me.
The storm had followed me.
It was trying to destroy me.
But I survived.
And because I had surivied, so many other people had died. ...
On a island with a beautiful kingdom on it.
And I was greeted by a prince that helped me to my feet.
Asked me my name and pleaded for me to be his date for a ball tonight.
But just as I was about to utter my reply.
A storm broke out overhead.
Lightning struck the castle's tower and a fire broke out.
People died.
Lives were lost.
And it was all because of me.
The storm had followed me.
It was trying to destroy me.
But I survived.
And because I had surivied, so many other people had died. ...
62 reads
2 Comments
Sins and Virtues Chapter Two
Turning her back to to the wedding guests Lust throws a bouquet of Poison Ivy and Venus Flytraps over her head. Stepping in front of Sloth, Envy snatches the bouquet out of the air. "Nice catch Envy" said Sloth with slow slurred speech. "Thank you Sloth and I do believe green is more my color". Turning around to see who caught the bouquet Lust wasn't a bit surprise to see Envy holding the Poison Ivy and Venus Flytraps. "Well Envy I guess you're next to be wedded off" stated Lust. Pride motions for Hatred to release the owls. Unlocking the huge cage Hatred releases the owls. Slow to...
39 reads
1 Comment
the night stews in an insomnia of its own doing
the night stews in an insomnia of its own doing
the night stews in an insomnia of its own doing.
i go out.
i fall in.
i circle the square
& the landscape falls awkwardly,
not unlike, say, an elderly gent down the stairs,
purple'd with curses
and bruises matting his shockwhite hair.
the landscape staggers under siege of memory
(its a paltry landscape anyways)
evenso,
i bring you way out here
yonder to the boondocks and outskirts of love.
right about now
its still quite early in your abode;...
the night stews in an insomnia of its own doing.
i go out.
i fall in.
i circle the square
& the landscape falls awkwardly,
not unlike, say, an elderly gent down the stairs,
purple'd with curses
and bruises matting his shockwhite hair.
the landscape staggers under siege of memory
(its a paltry landscape anyways)
evenso,
i bring you way out here
yonder to the boondocks and outskirts of love.
right about now
its still quite early in your abode;...
52 reads
0 Comments
Ode to Sasha Gray
Sasha grey fuckin a
One hot broad I dare to say
Seeing you makes my day
Nighttime as in my bed I lay
I dream of games that we could play
Even if I had to pay
I would gladly so you would stay
Here now I laud you ole
In rhythmic prose my special way
So enjoy take care OK
One hot broad I dare to say
Seeing you makes my day
Nighttime as in my bed I lay
I dream of games that we could play
Even if I had to pay
I would gladly so you would stay
Here now I laud you ole
In rhythmic prose my special way
So enjoy take care OK
28 reads
0 Comments
The Mystery of Willard
The river said to dream big. He could never understand how a man could ride up and down the river and never listen to the story that it told; a measurement used by mariners as two fathoms and on and on. This is somewhere along the lines where the waters calm and the undercurrent take a ride with uncertainly, yet with certainty they will certainly meet. Give a man an inch, and he’ll stretch it to hell and back and is it any wonder. I once talked to my family so poised and severe. I know what I know – and there are dammed that have a right to stain the golden silence! I should think that...
85 reads
12 Comments
f**king plagiarists
You see
The words I weave
Have been woven before
Perhaps differently
With different threads and colors
Patterns and better looms
I do this by hand
But some weave by machine
Precise, perfect, boring
Sometimes My words are smooth and silky
Sometimes they are a rough homespun
But I weave them
And clothe myself in them
Wear them around town
But I'm kind I let other people try them on
Say
How do you feel in this
No?
Well try this
Yes I like the drape of this one on you
But then...
The words I weave
Have been woven before
Perhaps differently
With different threads and colors
Patterns and better looms
I do this by hand
But some weave by machine
Precise, perfect, boring
Sometimes My words are smooth and silky
Sometimes they are a rough homespun
But I weave them
And clothe myself in them
Wear them around town
But I'm kind I let other people try them on
Say
How do you feel in this
No?
Well try this
Yes I like the drape of this one on you
But then...
48 reads
3 Comments
Maria, she will
Maria, she will
Maria she will
gather plans
with charming en-trance
Maria she will
change directions
like a storm
Maria she will
hold in her hands
the warming light
of a frozen moon.
Maria she will
dance through the door
smoldering in the grim and dark
of your daily room
Maria she will stoke the stars
and burn them into you.
Maria she will
pry open your every eye
Maria she will
kiss you then
incandescent she will
take her fill. Maria she will
stoke the stars...
Maria she will
gather plans
with charming en-trance
Maria she will
change directions
like a storm
Maria she will
hold in her hands
the warming light
of a frozen moon.
Maria she will
dance through the door
smoldering in the grim and dark
of your daily room
Maria she will stoke the stars
and burn them into you.
Maria she will
pry open your every eye
Maria she will
kiss you then
incandescent she will
take her fill. Maria she will
stoke the stars...
57 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Story Poems Seeking Critique about Dreams, Fantasy and Fiction (Page 3)