Kpalm's profile
AGE:
21
LOC: Centerville, MA
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: September 10
LOC: Centerville, MA
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: September 10
I’m Kevin. People call me kpalm. I write a lot. Most of the things I write are edited while I’m typing them, due to the nature of the computer. Therefore, most things on this site are first/mild-final drafts. I’m looking for feedback on how to make the drafts the best they can be so when I go to a publisher I won’t be laughed at. I love reading poetry and all sorts of other literature.
PS: I’m looking for good helpful feedback. I only leave reviews with my honest and informative opinions from a poet’s perspective, and the readers. If you give me a review and it happens to be something like
“this was inspirational. it touched me in ways i wish my father had…”
or anything else that is purely opinion, I’m going to refund it. I’m not …
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Drifting away, lost in thought- leave me to my peaces. Up I stare at corrugated ceilings peppered with pencils. I snap to Earth and look around to see a drooling fellow, sitting next to me. All around my little island moats of space surround, I’m separated from my siblings- their eyes are glazed as well. I let my ponder take my brain and leave this worthless hell.
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2 Reviews
1 Comment
Bouncing, bubbling endlessly through thoughts that thicken patiently; cauldrons coughing callously with whispers waiting lustfully. I never thought that I could be a man beyond my time. Sitting, staring silently, while numbing numbers gnaw away at cobwebs claiming borrowed brains. I beat down –isms viciously for fear of catching ignorance. Harlots, holding hopefully to trains of tragic misery, make molds for future faults; lynches lobbed so lusciously as liberty lay hanging.
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Version 1
2 Reviews
2 Comments
Artificial light played across her jaw, as if to sculpt it from the dark. She nuzzled up against my chest and held me. I admit it’s not polite to stare, but please excuse my gaping eyes, they fall upon your lashes. Your arm entwined around me, I kiss your fingers gently- softly, so as not to wake your precious cheeks, my fingers play across them. Whimpers in the shadows tell of dreams deranged by night. I kiss your brow; you sigh and once again fall silent. Her body snuggled up, the pillows h...
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Version 1
1 Review
3 Comments
An elegant masterpiece with columns and windows, even walkways to the doors. Each wooden block in its place, creating the most beautiful castle ever seen. It’s triangular towers a marvel with their reds on the peaks, based by the blues, held up by the orange. At the center stands A single yellow block that looks gold due to age. “It’s perfect”, he sighs, his mouth gaping with glee. His awe turns to horror as she tears down her work. “No. It wasn’t.”
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Version 1
4 Reviews
2 Comments
A single petal askew from its brethren; bent slightly upward in hopes of reaching the sun just a little bit faster. Wind plays with this thoughtful little leaflet, pushing it in and out of conformity; yet constantly the creases creep, creating a Criminal. A deviant, and yet integral part of all we know and accept as truth. Integral in that without it, the system in which we live would be flawless. Flawless, and yet imperfect, for perfection is gained when the system finds a point where everyt...
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Wow. Somehow you managed to sum up something so simple and yet terribly complex in 6 words. I'll give you some serious credit for that, because I normally despise one liners, but this is absolutely awesome. Thanks
While I enjoy the imagery in this piece, I fail to see it's direction. It doesn't seem to have symbolism, unless the stones are something to be revealed later on in the poem. This piece also feels terribly forced, awkward almost, to the reader. It's as if you rushed to get it out because you weren't in the frame of mind to sit down and think about each image and what it might mean to those reading. When writing you need to be aware of more than just your inspiration, but also the inspiration ...
What a beautiful piece on love. You've given the poem a very unique structure, and overall I must say it works quite elegantly. The only recommendation I can give, and I can only give it because it's been told to me also, is to split up the sentences to create longer stanzas. Your piece right now is a little bit borderline prose, simply due to the flow and feel. I have this same tendency while writing poetry and yet I happen to love it, because the descriptions made from this type of writing ...
This truly is quite an interesting piece. Certain words truly show an amazing culture and understanding of the overall feeling of the piece, yet at the same time, certain lines really just destroy the flow. Once I really got into it, this poem really had a lot of momentum, and I LOVED the way "empty beds" destroyed that flow, because it really gave significance to the 'empty beds'. However, to start the poem with such a 2nd line as "by myschief you will on your dirty feet" without a line brea...
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