Historical Seeking Honest Critique Poems
#historical
Related Theme
#nonfiction
historical seeking honest critique poems. Honest feedback has been requested for these poems.
Vision_of_insanity
Poem Published
22nd Apr 2025 00:56am
22nd Apr 2025 00:56am
17th Century Europe
Let me help you
Pain is all you have to endure
Let me cut you
Before the poison makes you turn
Your skin and flesh your blood and bone
Your heart your mind your soul will be torn
Rotten and forgotten before buried in the soil
When the torment stops you‘ll return to home
Those black stains you see
Are formed from the soul of thee
You are rotten to the core
I could try and help once more
But my doubt is too great
And I don't fear nor hate
Do not lie to me
Unlike you I can see
Do not beg of me ...
Pain is all you have to endure
Let me cut you
Before the poison makes you turn
Your skin and flesh your blood and bone
Your heart your mind your soul will be torn
Rotten and forgotten before buried in the soil
When the torment stops you‘ll return to home
Those black stains you see
Are formed from the soul of thee
You are rotten to the core
I could try and help once more
But my doubt is too great
And I don't fear nor hate
Do not lie to me
Unlike you I can see
Do not beg of me ...
#death
#historical
#illness #nonfiction
#illness #nonfiction
92 reads
10 Comments
dartford
Paul S...
Paul S...
Poem Published
15th Apr 2025 1:07am
15th Apr 2025 1:07am
architecture
love cathedrals
southwark
st paul’s
lincoln
salisbury
canterbury
york
and castles
in particular
carreg cennon
because
as a child
I went there in
a book
southwark
st paul’s
lincoln
salisbury
canterbury
york
and castles
in particular
carreg cennon
because
as a child
I went there in
a book
#historical
45 reads
2 Comments
DCLXVI_1989
Poem Published
5th Apr 2025 8:02am
5th Apr 2025 8:02am
Pure Gold
Stake a claim, hoping the border of metal rivets or wooden posts are upheld by the honor of those dumb enough to never second guess.
It's here my seeds will sprout to blades of grass, bordering the stream of consciousness, sharpened to the point.
I'll pan my golden dreams to spend nuggets of wisdom on the future.
I'll invest my hopes to balance my fears, rich with paranoia.
As the stranger walks upon the turf made mine, the shield will rise with voices.
Tunnel visions and silver veins.
Striking upon the rush of blood, the gravestone...
It's here my seeds will sprout to blades of grass, bordering the stream of consciousness, sharpened to the point.
I'll pan my golden dreams to spend nuggets of wisdom on the future.
I'll invest my hopes to balance my fears, rich with paranoia.
As the stranger walks upon the turf made mine, the shield will rise with voices.
Tunnel visions and silver veins.
Striking upon the rush of blood, the gravestone...
#historical
65 reads
0 Comments
PAR
Poem Published
28th Mar 2025 8:40pm
28th Mar 2025 8:40pm
Sixty two years ago
At the height of the colonial crisis
there are broken lands under lethal tension.
Political instability, endless conflicts.
Nations in turmoil, seek what is to come.
Organizations rise up as a voice of reason...
Fragile hope in a divided world.
While openness germinates on the streets,
promises of change in an era that is ending.
Cinemas project stories, realities flow,
dictators build worlds that set us on fire.
Films delve into their dark shadows,
in logical expressionism the aesthetics nestle.
Soft focus on...
there are broken lands under lethal tension.
Political instability, endless conflicts.
Nations in turmoil, seek what is to come.
Organizations rise up as a voice of reason...
Fragile hope in a divided world.
While openness germinates on the streets,
promises of change in an era that is ending.
Cinemas project stories, realities flow,
dictators build worlds that set us on fire.
Films delve into their dark shadows,
in logical expressionism the aesthetics nestle.
Soft focus on...
#DeepUndergroundPoetry
#historical
#MovingOn
#nonfiction
#WritingPoetry
89 reads
5 Comments
PAR
Poem Published
21st Mar 2025 10:25am
21st Mar 2025 10:25am
Strut Your Stuff
In the rainbow garden love blooms bright
with colors that sparkle day and night.
You're my main squeeze, my partner in crime,
together we shine like a disco ball's prime.
Our love is no closet secret, it's out and proud,
we strut our stuff, stand tall in the crowd.
You're the yin to my yang, the glitter to my glue,
in this fabulous life it's just me and you.
We dance through life, with a flair so grand.
Hand in hand in this borderland.
Our love's a parade with confetti and cheer.
In this vibrant world there's nothing...
with colors that sparkle day and night.
You're my main squeeze, my partner in crime,
together we shine like a disco ball's prime.
Our love is no closet secret, it's out and proud,
we strut our stuff, stand tall in the crowd.
You're the yin to my yang, the glitter to my glue,
in this fabulous life it's just me and you.
We dance through life, with a flair so grand.
Hand in hand in this borderland.
Our love's a parade with confetti and cheer.
In this vibrant world there's nothing...
#gay
#historical
#LGBT
#love
#utopia
119 reads
8 Comments
dartford
Paul S...
Paul S...
Poem Published
17th Mar 2025 1:19am
17th Mar 2025 1:19am
but never tired of Fleet Street
Gay, Pope, what are you
drinking,
I’m buying, Johnson says
they serve a passable tankard of beer
here
and smiles and knows that
he’s old
and he’s dying
drinking,
I’m buying, Johnson says
they serve a passable tankard of beer
here
and smiles and knows that
he’s old
and he’s dying
#fiction
#historical
75 reads
1 Comment
summultima
uma
uma
Poem Published
11th Mar 2025 7:55pm
11th Mar 2025 7:55pm
~amidst all conflicts chaos n diversities, we are ONE
history belongs to its geography”.. i quote
from an awakening piece of a lil well made
docu .. yes, your
robbing away of this place, you keep ever
going on your serial killer spree & a bloody
boring insipidities of your violent stupidities..
open your eyes at least now..
the dna’s of the anciently endowed
sacredness & peace in here.. lapping
in the centred sanctum sanctorum .. are
agelessly infused in the dancing...
from an awakening piece of a lil well made
docu .. yes, your
robbing away of this place, you keep ever
going on your serial killer spree & a bloody
boring insipidities of your violent stupidities..
open your eyes at least now..
the dna’s of the anciently endowed
sacredness & peace in here.. lapping
in the centred sanctum sanctorum .. are
agelessly infused in the dancing...
#culture
#DeepUndergroundPoetry
#freedom
#historical
#inspirational
133 reads
3 Comments
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
6th Mar 2025 2:59pm
6th Mar 2025 2:59pm
Found Scrawled Across an Instrument of Occultic Practice
This astrolabe has measured out
My days in damned astrology
The turning of its golden hands
Riposte to pure theology
My days in damned astrology
The turning of its golden hands
Riposte to pure theology
#historical
#magic
#pagan #spiritual
#pagan #spiritual
108 reads
3 Comments
arortiz73
MTP
MTP
Poem Published
23rd Feb 2025 2:47pm
23rd Feb 2025 2:47pm
BOUND TO THE BONORDEN
All aboard and toward The Bonorden,
a building built on buried forces,
boarded up, condemned and cordoned.
Ward of the state then state awarded;
broken-in and badly broken,
beyond the horde, with horrors afforded.
Hundreds died, estates were shorted.
Suicides: some spiral corded, bathtub fried,
and over-snorted. Below the bend,
the rivers fyorded, Meskwaki's end...
that's The Bonorden.
From Evelyn to Lauritzens,
sordid presences recorded;
a harem of hens' faded voices
are denizens at The Bonorden.
...
a building built on buried forces,
boarded up, condemned and cordoned.
Ward of the state then state awarded;
broken-in and badly broken,
beyond the horde, with horrors afforded.
Hundreds died, estates were shorted.
Suicides: some spiral corded, bathtub fried,
and over-snorted. Below the bend,
the rivers fyorded, Meskwaki's end...
that's The Bonorden.
From Evelyn to Lauritzens,
sordid presences recorded;
a harem of hens' faded voices
are denizens at The Bonorden.
...
#ghosts
#historical
#horror
#monsters
#nonfiction
87 reads
7 Comments
Vision_of_insanity
Poem Published
14th Feb 2025 11:03am
14th Feb 2025 11:03am
Massacre On St. Valentines Day
Month's before the "Wall Street Crash"
There was a bloody fight
Between two rival gangs in Chicago
It was a cold and snowy day in 1929
A celebration day for many lovers
Killers, thugs and mobsters
Running wild all over the streets
Spreading death everywhere in the city
G-Men had their hands full
There was a trap on North Clark Street
Seven men waiting for a truck load that never came
As Moran's gang was ordered to line up against the wall
Two phony police officers opened fire with Thompson...
There was a bloody fight
Between two rival gangs in Chicago
It was a cold and snowy day in 1929
A celebration day for many lovers
Killers, thugs and mobsters
Running wild all over the streets
Spreading death everywhere in the city
G-Men had their hands full
There was a trap on North Clark Street
Seven men waiting for a truck load that never came
As Moran's gang was ordered to line up against the wall
Two phony police officers opened fire with Thompson...
#corruption
#historical
#murder
#nonfiction
#ValentinesDay
136 reads
9 Comments
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
6th Feb 2025 6:52pm
6th Feb 2025 6:52pm
Gentle Nell
This is an excerpt from a book I'm writing. Any feedback on things like the readability of prose and enjoyability will be greatly appreciated!
Nellie Gibson was known as "Gentle Nell" in the same manner of irony that allowed for enormous men to be called "tiny". She was, in truth, a nigh-on lunatic, though until recent months, collected enough to lead a band of criminals through several escapades. Her lieutenant was a man called Morris, who sometimes, on looking at her, wondered if she'd ever taken a man to her bed and pitied any that she had. She was not a...
Nellie Gibson was known as "Gentle Nell" in the same manner of irony that allowed for enormous men to be called "tiny". She was, in truth, a nigh-on lunatic, though until recent months, collected enough to lead a band of criminals through several escapades. Her lieutenant was a man called Morris, who sometimes, on looking at her, wondered if she'd ever taken a man to her bed and pitied any that she had. She was not a...
#fiction
#historical
#prose #violence
#prose #violence
137 reads
5 Comments
Nizana
Lauryn
Lauryn
Poem Published
6th Feb 2025 1:18pm
6th Feb 2025 1:18pm
Ancestral Roots
I am many things,
A fragment of creation,
Homo sapiens by name,
A species, distant kin to chimpanzees.
A warm-blooded mammal,
Descendant from ancient seas,
Where once protozoa danced—
The first stirrings of life.
I am stardust incarnate,
Forged from the remnants of stars,
Shaped by my father's sperm,
Cradled within my mother's womb.
I was born to a world without deities,
No whispered truths or divine decrees.
I am a fierce lover's only child,
A daughter made whole in sin.
A fragment of creation,
Homo sapiens by name,
A species, distant kin to chimpanzees.
A warm-blooded mammal,
Descendant from ancient seas,
Where once protozoa danced—
The first stirrings of life.
I am stardust incarnate,
Forged from the remnants of stars,
Shaped by my father's sperm,
Cradled within my mother's womb.
I was born to a world without deities,
No whispered truths or divine decrees.
I am a fierce lover's only child,
A daughter made whole in sin.
#atheism
#historical
#science #sex
#science #sex
212 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Historical Seeking Honest Critique Poems
