Young Writers Society

our blood was burnt
in a pot on the stove

the rats turned their noses from us
we broke vases on their heads

and we stirred our blood

when it boiled
we threw it at the wall
and it stuck

it's done, i said
but we didn't think so

when it dried to the pan
i said, what have you done?
what could we have done, you said

we could have tasted it, I said

and you laughed at me
one does not taste their own blood

This poem, I'm not going to lie, kind of scared me. It painted a picture in my head that made me imagen someone boiling their blood than throwing it at the wall. This poem was so raw and had such an insane emotion. GREAT JOB! I saw no spelling errors, and no grammer or stanza problems at all either. The only thing that I would change about this poem is the title "Tv in the Kitchen" doesn't really go with the whole thing. It drew me in as something sweet, short, and innocent. Which, for the most part, was the complete opposite. I have to say it one more time, I'm sorry but, GREAT JOB!
Keep writing. You have an amazing gift.

~Forever Skye~

Nightshade wrote:our blood was burnt
in a pot on the stove

the rats turned their noses from us
we broke vases on their heads

and we stirred our blood

when it boiled
we threw it at the wall
and it stuck

it's done, i said
but we didn't think so

when it dried to the pan
i said, what have you done?
what could we have done, you said

we could have tasted it, I said

and you laughed at me
one does not taste their own blood

I normally write my editing suggestions directly onto the poem... but here, there were no mistakes to be found or critiqued. My question is, what on earth is the topic? I'm so completely confused, I cannot seem to grasp the concept behind this metaphorical poem. It's definitely eerie and cynical to read, but I still feel like there was a deeper message beneath your words... hmm. I'll have to think about that.Anyway, your writing style intrigues me, Keep writing!

TV!!!! THERE'S A TV FOR CHICKEN'S SAKE!

Ok, ok, breathe, breathe. *inhale*, *exhale*. Ok! I'm fine now. Let me give you my Quick Critique!

Concept & Theme:
You have a very creative brain there. I wonder what's inside? Anyways, yeah, I have mixed feelings about your work. Not in the bad way, but in a good one. Like, the feeling of happiness mixed with awkwardness with a pinch of fear ad a side of astonishment. That feeling! You made a mix of themes and concepts. It's like a normal suburban neighborhood where two murderers live. Exactly like Almost Moon by Alice Sebold.

Technicalities:
Actually, it's very hard to make any critique in this area, since your poem is very narrative and quite short. There are also some verses that didn't make much sense, such as burnt blood and we didn't think so. Check on that 'cause it made your poem very confusing. As in very! Just wanna say that the poem lacks a bit, only a bit, of punctuation. And also watch your capitalizations!

Content:
The word choice is quite brutal and violent. But I think it's because of your theme which I thought of. The structure is a bit confusing too, considering that you cut stanzas between coherent verses.

Overall:
Your poems great; you're there! But it lacks a few things which you should really check upon. But remember that in art, the most important opinion is your own, so always double check. Furnish this one, man, and you'll be fantastic.

Good luck on this...oh my gosh, the TV's back. WWAAAAHHHHHH,
Al (wwaaahhhhh)

I have one word to describe it; weird. I love your poem though. It's so creative and different and outside-the-box and mind boggling. The concept is really thought provoking and your writing style is unique. Don't know what happened to the t.v.
?????????
Great job! Keep on writing!

This is better than anything I could have written, so I'm gonna go the nit-picky route. Sorry.

our blood was burnt
in a pot on the stove

the rats turned their noses from us
we broke vases on their heads

and we stirred our blood

when it boiled
we threw it at the wall
and it stuck

it's done, i said
but we didn't think so

when it dried to the pan
i said, what have you done?
what could we have done, you said

we could have tasted it, I said

and you laughed at me

I know you probably don't care, but a lack of capitalization and punctuation is frowned upon. However, I really love this poem. The last line kind of stuck around in my head, echoing. I also liked the short stanzas, which gave the poem a faster pace. All in all, two thumbs up. This is really something special.
one does not taste their own blood