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mpotavin's profile
AGE:
34
LOC: Phoenix, AZ
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: December 31
LOC: Phoenix, AZ
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: December 31
Do not complain of what you do not know or one becomes only a mockery with no substance. Anarchy is not lawlessness, but a belief that we do not need some predefined structure to teach right from wrong. Kill the melodrama, just because you are in pain and want everyone to know, doesn’t make you a poet or a writer. Pain is part of life, get used to it. Without it we would all still be in Eden unable to reason for ourselves. I am currently writing a book of poems and trying to get into a graduate program, so any assistance in either direction would be a big help. If you want to be “friends”, I have only one rule, you must review my poetry. If you choose not to, I will drop you. Conversely, I will review your stuff.
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I sit here wiping blood off my hands, onto the screen. It was only a dream of faraway lands. I shudder awake like someone watching me sleep. Only the droning on in tearless monotone, a toll booth operator for the dead and I missed my exit wound through his back. On my hands elbow deep in red, the fear in his eyes like the crimson sunset before me. Even this rapist learned to value life as it pumps and eddies down the side of the road in a rattling karmic finality.
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Version 1
4 Reviews
1 Comment
The podium is silent. "Is this thing on?" murmurs and cameras flashes. amid a mass of yellow eyes, hungry and staring. "Now I know that you all are looking for something juicy, bloody and raw and I am sorry to disappoint, but barring a few minor glitches everything is ok." A few slink out the back their noses scenting the air. "I would like to just say that every word comes from the teleprompter so it must be true. Next card please. Don't worry, be happy, relax take off you're shoes, everythi...
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Version 1
3 Reviews
0 Comments
I hope my words will sting you. A needle for the junkies and we still live like monkies throwing our shit around bound to this systematic synthetic gimme gimme sacrifice. I hear its said, “Well, that’s just life,” as new horrors are bred. I hide in my bed instead of confronting my fears my selfish. A struggle against the voice that gets more quite through the years, as more are not fed more rage locked behind doors, every year the spectacle gets brighter the entertainers try harder every year...
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Version 1
4 Reviews
1 Comment
The anonymous hero was thrown out the window to fall in a Roman fountain where the petty pathetic drenched in I and mine, dredge for penny feeding dreams, choking and drowning as we all go down. Pointing blame with hands that should hold heads above water asphyxed in God like disdain. Oh, sorry it was not guilty.
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Version 1
3 Reviews
1 Comment
We are all divine watch the planets fall and rise, this conscious spark gives me a laughing fit for the timid dualists. We all have a mother trapped in this lesser force push, blue and choking I arise to take a census of the sand. We all have a plan mostly cosmetics for the soul. A dab here, a line there, a rodeo clown smiling through these tears the roaring wind, the desolate we. We all love in fabrege quickly shattered a spasm fist, dogs who whimper and cringe at the master's call. I am not...
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My first thought is, too many triple and double periods. I do not understand why they are used here. They symbolize incomplete thoughts, but when used in this poem are frustrating and actually damage the rythmn of the poem. You may want to consider reading your poem out loud and I think you will get a better understanding of what I'm talking about. Possessive nouns need to have a comma and then an s. "days breath" should be "day's breath". Same with "Summers". Why is Summers capitalized? I as...
I found this poem intriguing. At first I was thinking this was just another silly love poem, but I really dig your word choice and consistent voice. Read your poem outloud. The first two stanzas have some long lines that has some dependent clauses that you can split to their own line. The reading wil also help you find where you want to pause, so you can use the rythmn to help convey meaning. Consider using ensared instead of encaged, as it is more keeping with the pastoral theme, although it...
I just don't feel it. This poem makes me think of some nose in the air puritan being condescending towards someone who was a drunk. Do we know why he drunk so much or to such excess? No. Instead we get this preachy rant about how drinking makes one puke. Do you even know this person? Had a conversation with them? There has to be one redeeming quality, one thing that makes this person like you and me. Without this, he is just a cardboard cut out. Look deeper. There is no continuity to this poe...
Change all the you's to I's. I am not a participant in your poem, only a spectator. Things get a little disjointed in the middle, and I am uncertain what is real and what is imaginary, what is memories and what is fantasy. Like stanza 6 & 7, where does the mother come from? What does she have to do with Auntie Em? Is the whole poem in black and white? You don't use any other colors. Neither ending is good. Keep death out of it. The fact that you allude to it in stanza 7 is enough. I expected ...
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