This Poem was Submitted By: cheyenne smyth On Date: 2013-08-02 15:41:09 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Old Defeats

I buried my sins neath a willow tree to keep them safe just in case old defeats look picturesque Variant selves haunt the corridors of my brain like ghosts drawn to strangers with secrets they knit with hair and wire Memories of sin tangle like a fine gold chain the more I undo the knots the more they tangle with tighter knots inside my palms are crisscrossed with scars from the barbed wire I have loved and lost friends and lovers maybe I will ask them to serve my sins for supper

Copyright © August 2013 cheyenne smyth


This Poem was Critiqued By: James C. Horak On Date: 2013-09-03 11:44:35
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
I passed over this poem earlier because I felt it didn't live up to your standards. However, since Mr. Gustin took my suggestions so well on how to improve his poem, I'll apply that license here. If the quality of your last verse was in the rest, you'd have a resounding success. Clear and tacit, much of the rest of the poem is "blurry" with its images not easily reduceable to meaning. In the second verse you start two successive lines with "with", suggesting you have run out of option (I know you haven't.) "Variant" is a word that should be left to imagery sterile science, not a talented poet. I hope you salvage this poem and don't waste that last verse. JCH


This Poem was Critiqued By: DeniMari Z. On Date: 2013-08-08 11:29:25
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Touching soul searching poem with your 3rd verse standing out in imagery. We can never undo any wrong deed that comes back to haunt us yet somehow we internalize these times in our lives which make them seem like they happened yesterday - Very beautiful poem - nothing I would change in it. blessings, Deni
This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2013-08-05 22:12:48
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Cheyenne, such a dour piece. Of the scars; much like the strangers and buried sins. I cannot figure it all out. Your piece lets me know that probably it isn't something that should be figured out and still maintain sanity. I don't know, maybe so. Of your verse, so much a part of humanity; -sins for supper- ah... I prefer to read your verse.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Joe Gustin On Date: 2013-08-04 10:51:06
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Where to start. I love how you turn a praise, paint a picture, weave a story. Each stantza has its highlights and i cought myself saying wow every time I read one. Bravo. Stanza 3 is pure genius.
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