Question Everything How do I critique a poem

Question Everything

How do I critique a poem then? You’re in Luck! There are 10 steps! • Start with the title – is it a good title? Does it add something more to the poem? - Be wary of titles that are just labels (e. g. Sky or Daffodils) if there is the potential for something stronger. Using Poem or Sonnet etc as your title is a wasted opportunity. • The first line – Does the first line work? Does it pull the reader into the poem, make the poem inviting or engaging right from the start? Or is it a bit weak or explanatory?

• Language – does the poem use strong language and imagery? Does it use strong, specific nouns and verbs, or does it over-rely on adjectives and adverbs? Does it create word pictures or ideas as you read it? • Feelings – do you feel fully engaged throughout the poem, or are there places where your attention drops? Are there wordy or slow parts that could be tightened?

• Figurative Language – does the poet use metaphors and similes in original ways? Are they fitting to the poem’s subject or are they too ‘odd’? (i. e. the poet has tried too hard) • Line Breaks – do the line breaks work? Has the poet broken lines effectively for rhythm, sound and meaning? Often line breaks can work like punctuation – is that happening effectively? If there are lines carried over does this work?

• Stanzas – has the poet used stanza breaks? Do they work? Would the poem benefit from more or less stanza breaks? • White Space – has the poet used white space effectively? Do you feel there is room for you as the reader to enter the poem?

• Ending – does the poem end strongly? What is the last line doing? Does it introduce something odd or irrelevant at the end? Does it leave you with something to think about? • Understanding – do you understand (more or less) what the poet is trying to tell you? Or is the poem too obscure or impenetrable? Does the poem excite or at least satisfy you? Is there a conflict present or a plot?

Untitled Do I belong? I question myself One more time anxiously, while Waiting for permission to script A preface to passionate musing Called life. . ! ! ! ! ! My maiden flight into the untitled world of desire Lands softly on the Flowerbed of compassion. Nobody knows how long I am going to stay here And now at the level crossing Of the dream road. Like a few drops of dew Frozen in wait for The perennial touch of dawn That is yet to dissolve the Substantial shadow of doubts. Ah! You didn't know? Asks the time As i stood visibly confused About the fading life-line Caught in the cycle of rebirth Preparing for its return journey. by John Knight

The Red Wheelbarrow William Carlos Williams, 1883 - 1963 so much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain water beside the white chickens.

The Road Not Taken By: Robert Frost Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way I doubted if I should ever come back. Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim Because it was grassy and wanted wear, Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.