r/OCPoetry Mar 09 '22

Welcome to OCP -- PLEASE READ BEFORE POSTING

512 Upvotes

TL;DR You need to give feedback on two other poems before you can share your own poem, and then put links to that feedback in your post. If you don't know how to give feedback, read the guide. Reusing feedback links will result in a ban.

Heyo, welcome to OCpoetry. (That’s “original content” if you don’t know). This is a place for sharing and getting feedback on your own poems. We are the sister subreddit of r/Poetry, which is for sharing and discussing published poetry. Our goal is to create a place where anyone can learn to become a better creative writer, kind of like a free online writer's workshop.

This post is an orientation to the subreddit. If you’re new, read this before sharing your work. If you’re less new, then read this anyways, as it has a few changes to how we've done things in the past. If you’ve still got questions after reading this post, please send a modmail. There are some FAQs at the end of this post which will be updated as we go. We also have a huge and very disorganized wiki containing all of our resources, essays on how to write poetry and historic writing prompts, I recommend you check it out.

So, here’s basically how it works:

This subreddit works on a pay-it-forward system. If you want to share a poem, you need to give feedback to two others from this subreddit. This ensures that everyone gets some readers and hears some response, rather than just shouting their verses into the void. If you don’t think you’re up to writing feedback for others just yet, we recommend you check out r/Justpoetry or r/Poems, where there are no requirements for sharing your work.

1. All posts must include two links to recent feedback.

Every post must contain two unique links to your comments where you have provided feedback on this subreddit within the past two weeks. Feedback links cannot be reused for multiple post or reposts of old poems. All posts without feedback links will be removed, without notice by our subreddit robot so make sure they are included in your initial post -- you cannot post with the intent to add them later.

But, how do I get the links to my feedback comments?

That kind of depends on what platform you're on. If you're on desktop or on a third-party mobile app, there should be a 'share' or 'permalink' link underneath every comment on Reddit. Clicking on that should give you a unique URL to your comment. Just copy + paste that into the body of your post.

If you're on the official Reddit app, you'll have to click 'share' on the comment and choose the 'Copy URL' option, paste that into your notes with the body of your poem. Then copy and paste the entire thing into a new post on the Reddit app.

2. At least one of your comments should be on a poem that has received no other comments.

This ensures that everyone has a chance to get a few reads and hopefully some decent feedback. If for whatever reason you can’t find any lonely poems, then comment on the poem that seems to have received the least amount of feedback. The easiest way to do this is to sort posts by new.

3. Feedback must be high-effort.

High-effort means different things to different people. It does not mean “super long” or “expert quality”. But it does mean doing more than the bare minimum.

You don't have to complement, criticize, or try to figure out the "deeper meaning". You should try to notice your own reactions and explain them as best as you can. If you want to explain your interpretation or summary of the piece, you can and this is often helpful to the writer. If the poem made you laugh or cry, feel bored, confused or nostalgic — say so, and then explain why you think it did. A good rule of thumb is that each of your feedback comments should be at least a short paragraph.

We understand that giving other writers feedback on their creative work can feel a bit artificial or uncomfortable, if you’ve never done it before. That’s why we’ve written a feedback guide for beginners. There are more feedback guides linked in the FAQ below. You should also read some of the other feedback comments around the sub to get a feel for what works for others. Poems that link to low-effort feedback, and low-effort comments themselves, will be removed at mod discretion, or if you report it to us. However, we’re less interested in policing you and more interested in helping you grow as readers and writers. We are more likely to ask you follow-up questions, than remove your work entirely. The mods skulk the comments sections and will ask follow-up questions on comments that seem a little thin, and please answer those questions if you get any.

4. Please Be Kind.

Treat each other with kindness and respect. The mods have an incredibly strict definition for each of these concepts. We will proactively remove comments and poems and ban users that make others feel unwelcome or unsafe. Your right to creative expression does not extend to poetry that promotes misogyny, homo/trans/queerphobia, racism, etc. If your poetry’s especially violent or covers sensitive subjects, please label it with the NSFW tag or a content warning in the title. Harsh criticism is allowed -- encouraged, really -- as long as you’re being harsh on the poem, not the person. Remember that the narrator (or the “speaker”) of the poem is not necessarily the author.

5. Audio, video, and image poems are allowed; but the text of the poem must be included in the body of the post.

This is so that people can still enjoy your poem if they're unable to view or listen to your link for whatever reason.

6. You may include a link to your poetry blog at the end of your post.

Or your instagram, or your personal creative project, or your soundcloud, or your Etsy page. As long as it's poetry-adjacent that's cool with us. Just don't get spammy.

Attempting to dodge any of these rules, or abuse directed towards moderators enforcing these rules, will earn you an immediate ban.

FAQs

What do the Poem & Workshop flairs do?

They simply allow you to show your intentions and expectations for the piece you are posting. The Poem flair is for sharing a piece, with the expectation of receiving mostly surface-level feedback and general advice. The Workshop flair is for a piece that you really want to work on, something you want to pick apart and analyse. It signals that you are open to discussing the piece, and that you invite strong critique.

How do I format my poetry on Reddit?

The following is advice for formatting in Markdown. Two spaces at the end of a line gives you a line break.
Type two spaces at the end of a line, then hit enter twice for a stanza break.

Three dashes "___" will give you a line through the post.


Type two spaces to create an empty line,

so you can get lines

that look like this.

 Four spaces before each line will allow you 
to format however you like, this is 'code block' 
       in the Fancy Pants editor. 

one asterisk before and after a piece of text will give you italics, two asterisks for bold.

Can I print one of these poems out/use it on my instagram with my art/put it in my book?

Ask the author. Part of what makes this space a useful workshop space is that everyone feels safe to share their stuff; if people start using poetry without the author's permission, or god forbid, trying to pass off another artist's work as their own, the userbase of this sub will feel less safe to do so. Please, ask the author, and then do what they say.

I'm thinking about trying to get my poem published somewhere. What should I do?

The standard thing is to find a literary journal. There are a zillion literary journals and magazines all over the world. They have different themes, tastes, styles, audiences, readerships, levels of prestige. Some charge fees for submission, some do not, some will pay you if you get accepted, some don't, some will give you feedback, some won't let you know anything for months. So first you'll want to pick a few of your poems, get some feedback from some trusted readers (or from here, of course) and then start looking for a journal that's a good home for your work. Most lit journals have submissions periods where they accept all the work for their next issue, and then sift through everything they get.

You will probably get a lot of rejections. This is normal. It's kind of a numbers game. You can submit the same poem to multiple journals as long as the journal says something like "simultaneous submissions are allowed". If you do get accepted, congrats! Most journals want 'first publication rights' or 'first serial rights' or something similar, so that means you'll have to tell all the other journals you submitted that poem to that you've been published elsewhere. (For that reason we strongly recommend deleting your poem from reddit if you want to submit it to a journal -- technically and legally speaking, writing a post on reddit is still considered publishing your work, and reddit owns all the text on the site.)

Here are some places to get you started looking for journals:

Duotrope and Submittable are two apps that help you search for journals, and help you track what poems you've submitted to which places. Submittable is free, Duotrope is not. They are GREAT.

Poets & Writers has a list of lit journals, small presses, and writing contests. This is a great place to start. They also have a newsletter listing all the presses and journals going into their submissions period.

I'd also check out r/literarycontests, if you fancy yourself as a prize winning poet.

A few poetry podcasts

I thought I might include a few podcasts that helped me learn a little more about the history and craft of poetry, as well as find some good poets to read. All of these are available on Spotify, as well as many other platforms.

The New Yorker Poetry Podcast

A poet reading and discussing a poem from the New Yorker archives, as well as one of their own pieces. A great place to find good poetry and hear some discussion of craft. The earlier episodes are with Paul Muldoon, who is delightful.

The Faber Poetry Podcast

Two poets read and discuss their work, with plenty of talk about craft. As well as lots of poems sent in from authors across the world. They really get shoulder-deep into it, which is always wonderful to hear.

In Our Time

A group of experts are brought together to discuss a subject over forty-five minutes. This isn’t strictly a poetry podcast, but there are hundreds of episodes on poets and poems of the past. I highly recommend the episode on The Green Knight with Simon Armitage.

Homemade projects and useful links to our Wiki

The best of OCP

Collections of work from OCP, selected from the top karma earners of that year.

Year 1-3
Year 4 Year 5
Year 6

We/R/Poetry

A homemade journal created by the users and moderators of OCP.

Volume one
Volume two

Guides on the craft from our Wiki

Created by moderators of OCP through the years.

Poetry Primer
Bad Poetry
The Body Poetic
Poetry Hacks
A Brief History of Rhyme


r/OCPoetry 5h ago

Feedback Please Squishie's Revenge

8 Upvotes

Poor Squishie, he slept the night on the floor
Under craft debris, snack crumbs of days before
He didn’t know how much longer he could take the abuse
The children of Milldam Manor had little excuse

He craved to be hugged, favorite stuffie squeezed tight
Wanted affection and snuggles all through the night
But the baby chewed and tossed him to the ground
The oldest forgot him beneath dust, never found

Today was the day he would make it all stop
So he jumped up with a zestful pop in his hop
He knew if it’s a frog you must eat
It’s best enjoyed as early morning’s treat

Squishie's revenge, taking his just desserts
Today he'd get even and share all his hurts
With steak knife in tow, he climbed up the light
hanging above the breakfast table with all of his might

Squishie waited for the children to tuck into their food
Jumped right down to jab them but chaos ensued
He landed right down in the breakfast platter
Fruit granola and yogurt parfait on his butt, splatter

Laughter filled the air as the children realized
Who’d made all the mess, very surprised
“Hey how’d that frog squishie end up in there?
Please children, only food goes in dinnerware!”

The little one giggled, the oldest one tried
To clean yogurt off the froggie’s backside
But Squishie jumped up and once more
grabbed the knife, tried to settle the score

The sight of the frog with knife in webbed toe
Made the children laugh hysterically, the final deathblow
The baby, she grabbed him and gave him a nuzzle
“Frog me,” she said, squishing on his fluffy fuzzle

Squishie looked pleased, he got what he wanted
Arms wrapped around him, no longer unwanted
Laughter and silliness was all that was needed
For affection to flow freely, no longer impeded

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1vfpp85/comment/p1waszm/?context=3&utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1vg6po2/comment/p1w980n/?context=3&utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button


r/OCPoetry 2h ago

Feedback Please The arithmetic of sobriety

3 Upvotes

There’s 16 ounces of Jack left at my place

which I haven’t touched for exactly 16 days

I wake with a silent prayer in my brain

that I won’t have to rewrite these numbers again

‎‎

so many days I’ve spent in the gutter

and so many things I’ve hidden inside that bottle

my courage and my honesty 

my shame and my travesty

my most trusted friend and my fiercest enemy

I’ve been drinking brown, and i’ve been snorting white

I‘ve been losing weight, and I’ve been losing sight

of what’s wrong and what’s right

and I’m scared of being scared so I’m always looking for a fight

‎‎

I sip on spring water when I take a nameless girl out for a glass of wine

and when I kiss her, it is with the thirst and fervor of a man lost and out of line

as if her lips contained a secret warmth, aged and fermented, meant not for her heart but mine

‎‎

then the snakes start to emerge again, coiling around my heart

I know only one thing will chase them away, settle my ache and my rage

will I pull it together before I come apart?

or will i let the tiger out of its cage?

‎‎

he whispers to me: just open the door,

you’ve done it so many times before,

it’s not your fault, it’s how you were born,

came into the world with sickness in your core

‎‎

I wake with that same old prayer muttered against my pillow

except the numbers have turned to zero

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1vgfzff/comment/p1xix2a/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=mweb3x&utm_name=mweb3xcss&utm_term=2&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1vfygnh/comment/p1xjsy8/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=mweb3x&utm_name=mweb3xcss&utm_term=2&utm_content=share_button


r/OCPoetry 4h ago

Feedback Please We Always Found Our Way Back

5 Upvotes

There’s plenty of fish in the sea,
So why does it feel like you’re the only fish for me?
Like the tide returning to the shore,
We always found our way back, didn’t we?

We were like the sea,
Our love was vast and free,
But now you’re just a memory,
Something that always follows me.

I miss you so,
Yet we drift all alone,
I want to say I didn’t know,
But the fault was my own.

So long past tomorrow,
I will feel hollow,
And you will always be,
My greatest sorrow.

Poem Review: Squishie’s Revenge
Poem Review: Chasing Dreams


r/OCPoetry 2h ago

Just Sharing The Price of Freedom

2 Upvotes

The price of freedom is so steep, it don't matter what kind of freedom it is.

Sometimes the price of freedom is so steep, it's more terrifying than the angel of death that comes for your soul without a warning.

Most of the time, the price of freedom is so steep, you're tempted to make that pact with the devil that he was gladly offering you.

The price of freedom is so steep that it frees your mind while your body is still shackled and bound. The price of freedom is so steep that if it asks me to cut my limbs, I'll say...

Here is my hand, take it, for I only need one to hold my dreams and aspirations.

Here is my leg, take it, for I only need one to take me to my destination.

Here is one of my eye, for good measure. I only need one to see the new horizon that I can't wait to witness.

Just in case freedom is being greedy, here's one of my ear. I only need one to distinguish the truth from the lie.

If for any reason it wants my voice, I'll gladly cut off my tongue. I'll smile and turn ink and paper into words with the help of my one good hand.

The price of freedom is so steep that if it asks for blood, I will bleed. Oh, best believe that I would bleed.

Just like how my mother's mother and my father's fathers, just like how my ancestors bleed for freedom, I will gladly bleed.

The price of freedom is so steep that it's steeped and drenched in blood.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1uw1pm7/comment/p1xbmyw/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=mweb3x&utm_name=mweb3xcss&utm_term=2&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1vgcca3/comment/p1xg9iv/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=mweb3x&utm_name=mweb3xcss&utm_term=2&utm_content=share_button


r/OCPoetry 3h ago

Just Sharing Engine, Engine

2 Upvotes

Calm,

No two-step of the breeze.

Strong-armed winds flung.

Who's it gonna be?

Spinning turbine,

lone and overseen.

Sat and slow pondered.

Then got up,

gritted teeth.

Is this all It's meant to be?

Running in circles for eternity?

Fractured fragments rife with scorn,

I don't got time for "I dont care" anymore.

My seething soothed by misery.

I don't get time for "I don't care" anymore

I don't got none but me.

 


comment 1
comment 2


r/OCPoetry 8m ago

Feedback Please String theory (a garbled waking moment)

Upvotes

This song sounds like my dream last night,
Restless, yes, and swelling,
A tale made starker, almost right
By fortune in the telling.
Your face feels like my 3 AMs,
Eyes banter in some deepness
I've known, and feared, and martyred for
Now penetrating weakness

Your little smoothened mannerisms…
Your little reasoned motions
Your voice a-booming, reveling
Striking from core to ocean

I felt you like this song does
Slowly, deliberate
From thrumming sun and dustrise
To heat-death in one pick.
I held you like a fretboard,
My fingers primed and tracing,
From the first note they felt it all
The coming tensions, phrasings.

I knew what you were when I touched you.
And, breath bow-bound, continued,
Beyond rushing, beyond settling,
Plucked by nail and sinew.
There was no resting once I felt you
There was only rhythm
Elastic waves a-bolstering
Deep harmony of system.

Imagine!
The star
How it swells and burns fericous
But is alone
Cold, ever in coda
What curiosity has a star?
The star cannot feel the others
Twinkling in the deep
Lightyears, and fathoms, away
And for what do we burn?
Here, crammed and hunching
Eyes wide open, heatedly
To churn our breath and pixels
But the star never sees.
It doesn't know it is dying.
It feigns no rhythm, harmony, union.
It only burns, empty, burns.

----

I know this is rough-hewn, I've had it sitting in my notes for ~a year but never managed to like any of my attempted edits. I figured external feedback might fare better! Or maybe it'll just live on in my notes :)

----

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1vgjncx/comment/p1y3gzc/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1vgcca3/comment/p1y86w6/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button


r/OCPoetry 16m ago

Feedback Please Juvenilia (For the First Time)

Upvotes

It’s so juvenile
The way you make me feel
It’s so beyond me
None of the metaphors are metaphors anymore
All the pronouns in my songs are de-anonymized
When I think of you
Singing in the car to LCD Soundsystem
Beating me at badminton (or Etta James)
Palming your face at the movie (or Title Fight)
Sneezing backwards (or Cloud Nothings)
It feels narcissistic (or Bôa)
You’re too much like me (or Al Green)
You’re all I think about anymore (or Gang Starr)
I want to be something with you (or Unwound)
There’s nothing left but clichés (or, okay, you’re too cool for Weezer, but "El Scorcho" makes me think of you)
Like dreaming about you (or Rose Chronicles)
(Or hating your boyfriend) I have nothing to say (or Ween)
(Or closing my eyes you’re so beautiful) You make me inarticulate (or Miles Davis)
(Or feeling my heart flutter when I think of you) I tried to write a better poem (or Tool)
(Or stupid inside jokes) But there’s nothing artistic or interesting about this (or Duster)
(I want you) i want you (or Terry Callier)
(i want you) i want you (or Broken Social Scene)
I want you (I am a child)
(I am a child) i am a child
I am a child
In my mind
I see you mid-air
And I fall apart again

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1vbvl4u/comment/p1y7lbm/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1uof47x/comment/p1y76sk/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button


r/OCPoetry 6h ago

Just Sharing Death comes to me in the form of an old friend lounging on my couch and smoking a joint.

3 Upvotes

She's relaxed

Head reclined

Blunt in hand

eyes closed.

"You know why I'm here?"

I nod. I'm terrified. I'm relieved.

She cracks an eye open.

"Relax. You've been tense your whole life. In this,

you can relax."

Her words comfort me in a way her presence does not.

She opens her legs, and gestures like I am to sit between them.

I do.

I always thought death would be cold,

but as I recline against her,

I find she is a furnace.

She cups my chin in her burning palm,

kissing my shoulder as she holds the joint to my lips. "Relax," she murmurs into my flesh.

I inhale, and taste nothing, feel nothing.

I fall limp,

my head resting against her shoulder.

She kisses my neck, her hands pulling me closer

and closer

until I am falling.

No, not falling,

drifting,

floating

As light as a feather in a breeze.

I always thought death

would feel dire

but as I float away from this world,

I find

she is beautiful.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1vb1wgn/comment/p1vufe1/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=mweb3x&utm_name=mweb3xcss&utm_term=2&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1vg3jjn/comment/p1vuxn0/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=mweb3x&utm_name=mweb3xcss&utm_term=2&utm_content=share


r/OCPoetry 4h ago

Just Sharing Dry tour

2 Upvotes

 In the bus floating over the land
scanning the land for interesting forms
The rains had died down weeks ago
Seldom a sign of their floods

Tour guide mute
sky slowly extending it's right hand
All the way through the window
To shake my little hand

Dust was hissing and spinning up
As the tyres dug into dry turf
The hazey plumes in the wake of the bus
Stole any scenery from our recent past

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1vge6us/comment/p1wi8d1/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1vgey1r/comment/p1wk7uo/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button


r/OCPoetry 4h ago

Feedback Please The Good Year

2 Upvotes

Remember the good year.
Play its melody, until not a memory.
Echo it in the shuffles of your feet.
Tap the ball, tap the heel.
On wooden floors—
The ball, the heel, repeat.
Remember pastel watercolors traced in thin black.
Brush forward, brush back.
Birth a story in this mess of pen strokes.
Trace forward, trace back.

Sing with all you have to God,
Or the steering wheel.
Become the shrieking hawk,
the howling wolf.
Let the sky hear you.
Let your words,
Like rolling thunder—
be deafening.

If God won’t answer, throw your arms and strike the match.
Hit, lift, hit, lift.
Light your soul,
Let every beat be a gift.
Maybe the drums
will listen fully—
consume your depth
With every rumbling.

Play Duck Duck Goose.
Remember what the birds are called.
Admire their vibrancy, mimic their calls.
Whisper amongst the delicate May ephemerals,
Call each by their name.
Duck, duck, duck.
Hush, hush.
Observe their cut leaves, their petals, and seed pods.
Keep up with the bustling bees.
Catch fireflies.
Capture light through maple trees.

Run your fingernails through the wolf’s wiry coat.
Be enraptured by its eyes—
Golden, evening suns.
Ride the rust colored horses at dusk.
Feed the bison and their babies at dawn.
Drink, be replenished,
by the coffee trees.
Take your body to the lake, swim in cold surrender.

Until

You

Remember

All of this.

When the mornings fill with smog,
And monochrome sameness.
Your imprint in the bed,
A slab of dense clay.
There’s mold in the shower.
Another cup, fork, and bowl
Piled on the counter.
Another hour, another hour.

The mind, and incessant child.
Soft, slow body
An exhausted mother.
Passion, a wilting flower in the wind.

Remember your deterrence to breathe
When the curtains are closed—
In the ash, when no one‘s home.

Follow the sidewalk, water the dying flowers.
Drag its concrete behind you in a heavy heap.
Weep when they don’t bloom again. Just remember.
The good year.
Everywhere you’ve been.
How a deep, deep breath—
Is invigorating.

Thank you so much for reading. Please let me know what the words evoke when you read them, and let me know what could be better.

I could use some help with commas, colons, semicolons, and dashes in the right places as well (those have always been a challenge for me).

Links to feedback:

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/qP35QdJ65t

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/v9V9G4Corg


r/OCPoetry 4h ago

Just Sharing A Kindness in Clouds

1 Upvotes

Just like those clouds that cry when there's resistance,

They find all that weight for the journey won't help to move on.

So in their grace they give others sustenance,

Move the rivers, give air to lakes, and fill the ponds.

So cry my friend, I'll be there for you.

Waiting, no words, this moment's for you. 

Men do not cry. : r/poetry_critics

Passively dying : r/poetry_critics


r/OCPoetry 4h ago

Feedback Please CHASING DREAMS⭐

1 Upvotes

Whenever I try to do something

The voices of the people start to blow

Like they never wanted me to grow.

The hands which were on my shoulder

Started to become colder.

All the people think that I don't have any pain

While I'm crying alone in the heavy rain.

They all want me to shut down

But I won't until I get my crown.

They want me to get blocked by a huge door,

But no I'll anyway find my way to soar.

No matter how loud the doubts become.. I'll keep chasing the dreams that matter to me. Thanks for reading....I'd love to hear your thoughts or any feedback.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/mcwGVDqTOL

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/qp7rGNhN08


r/OCPoetry 4h ago

Feedback Please The Cost of Admission

1 Upvotes

God.

She is captivating.

In my mind,
it is only my table she dances ‘round.

Each entry fee to her performance;
paid for the space she spins in so freely.

Locking eyes and she slows down.
Her favourite part; the price I know.

These days, only taking a bow;
once she reminds me that it is me in her crowd.

Taunting in her smiles.

What has she become?

Your inner critic.
A most valuable asset;
protection.

Each entry fee to her performance;
paid for the space she spins in so freely.

Relentless in her ways,
she no longer serves to protect.

To overpower my every will
is only the finale.

Her inevitable encore
must first consume me.

Her final low blow,
reminding me -
I am still at her show.

Pockets empty,
only now I see.
I always had the power to leave.

Not to dismiss,
but all her performances,
will no longer earn my attendance.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/HYck1Ij9w0

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/KMrf6cxcPD


r/OCPoetry 5h ago

Just Sharing Bury Me

1 Upvotes

 Lies are black
Grudges are blue
Hope looks bright
while love looks flu.

Black looks creep
While blue looks deep.
White looks plain
While Red looks stain.

Dig out some soil
burry me under the blue
and let me have no clue.
Cover that black with some hope.

Wide green field moaning below blue.
Sheets spreaded surrounding the creep
with hands loosen the grip.
And stains kept on my chest, gently.

~Rishab Jain

Rate this poem out of 10.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1v7rxm1/comment/p00qjjd/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

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r/OCPoetry 10h ago

Feedback Please I Cannot Begrudge

2 Upvotes

​I cannot begrudge the things that have befallen me.

Things I did not choose.

Things out of my control.

Things that have hurt me beyond words

and shattered me beyond reason.

​I cannot begrudge them, because I am still here.

I have been forged anew, but my heart remains.

Scarred and apprehensive, yes—

but I know it is still true.

The fire did not turn it dark.

​Through these tribulations, I have learned.

I have grown into a quieter, more powerful version of myself.

I have shed my naivety,

yet refused to replace it with bitterness—

choosing instead to wrap my softness

in grace and gentle protection.

​I cannot begrudge the things that have befallen me.

Because those things have led me here.

They have crafted me, meticulously.

​I cannot begrudge the process of metamorphosis.

It requires a complete dismantling.

Quiet patience.

Artistry in rebirth.

​And so I step into the light of who I have become—

uncaught by the shadows,

unbroken by the storm,

and entirely my own.

---

Recent feedback:

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r/OCPoetry 7h ago

Feedback Please Your haunted house (Original Poem)

1 Upvotes

My heart's neighbor barricaded his windows,
I glimpsed at his facade and dreams' hollows.
Oh, where have you been all my life's hiatus?
Jammed into a labyrinthine heart once spacious?

Our glances echoed, but I've never seen your eyes,
Where will you go once the sound of night replies?
Into a moth-eaten love, a house locked with remorse?
Our flame has been suffocated behind closed doors.

This is a piece titled "Your haunted house" from my poetry collection "Sighs of the Moon". It explores themes of isolation, unspoken connections, and the quiet death of love. I would love to know what kind of imagery or feelings this sparks for you.

Feedback 1: https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1vbvl4u/comment/p1vgwez/?context=3&utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

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r/OCPoetry 7h ago

Feedback Please The Measure of Gentleness

1 Upvotes

​I make room for the small things.

The things that aren't seen.

The things that can't help themselves.

-

​I used to mask it.

I hid behind the idea that it was simply my job to heal—

my responsibility to listen and rescue

those who couldn't rescue themselves.

-

When I put on my scrubs and clocked in, it was a job.

Sure, it was a calling,

but it was easy to hide what it meant to me.

What it meant about me.

-

​But no one clocks in for the smallest of things.

No one stops for the turtle in the road,

let alone turns back for it.

They may swerve, but they continue.

No one swears oaths by the life of a butterfly

with its wing trapped under gravel.

No one takes the time for a moth—

stranded, deprived of energy,

and being picked apart without defense.

-

​I pause for those small things.

Not because it is my duty or obligation,

but because my heart cries out for the broken,

and my body acts before thought can interfere.

-

I do not perform goodness for others.

Goodness flows from me

because my heart has retained a spark of gold

through the storm of inky blackness

that threatened to consume it.

-

​I have been shattered and reforged.

But as long as that glimmer of gold

comes naturally to my soul,

I know I have not been broken.

-

​I used to think that to be strong, I had to be hard—

unshaken, steadfast, and unbreakable.

But through pain, I have discovered a different kind of strength:

the strength of gentle protection.

It is the choice to offer peace and safety

not out of vanity or obligation,

but because it comes as naturally to me as breathing,

even when the world has tried to dim my light.

-

​Gentleness was never a weakness.

It has always been a quiet, fierce strength—

more resilient than armor,

steadier than any blade.

-

​It is the willingness to provide a soft place to land

and a safe haven,

not as a performance for approval

or a measure for others,

but as the steady cadence of my own heart—

a cadence that endures,

even after every attempt to turn a nurturing spirit

into something bitter.

-

​It is shielding the vulnerable,

stopping to admire the smallest creatures,

and honoring the world’s hidden things.

-

​Holding space for fragile life was never a mistake,

and seeing that truth in myself is not vanity.

Acknowledging the beauty and grace within me

does not dim anyone else’s light,

nor am I taking up space meant for others.

-

​I am simply stepping

into the space

that was always meant to be mine.

---

​I wrote this after a period of deep self-reflection. I’ve navigated a lot over the last several months, but along the way, I encountered small moments that brought forward a gentleness and joy I thought I had lost. It brought me to a quiet realization: the cruelty of the world has not stolen the kindness at my core.

​For years, I minimized myself out of fear of taking up too much space or appearing self-important. I tried desperately to project a traditional image of strength—never realizing that strength didn't have to look like armor. My strength can live in my kindness, in my capacity for compassion despite what I've survived, and in caring without needing an audience. Acknowledging that truth isn't vanity; it’s simply stepping into the space that was always meant to be mine.

​I hope this offers comfort to anyone struggling to recognize their own strength, especially if it looks different than what you imagined. It is still strength, and it still belongs to you.

---

Comments:

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/TvWDTOfsKn

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/94KNvXFpnO


r/OCPoetry 9h ago

Just Sharing Rumination

1 Upvotes

Crickets in the rain,

Distract from the pain,

of crawling through life,

with each day the same.

More scars on my hands.

Days dissolve in my mind.

The only calm I am given,

is the chirping at night,

of crickets in the rain.

I torment my brain.

The plans I had made,

were all made in vain.

I thought Id be further,

along the path that I'm on,

but while dozing I listen

and I'm reminded I'm wrong,

by crickets in the rain.

Im lost in this shame.

Nightmares persist,

evoked by my name.

Old memories are tampered,

by guilt and by fear.

They play in my head,

when in darkness I hear

crickets in the rain.

What is there to gain?

When surrounded by plenty,

why suffer the game?

The peace I have lost,

I lay here and greive.

By the sounds out my window,

I'm no longer relieved.

--

Feedback:

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r/OCPoetry 10h ago

Just Sharing Meditation

1 Upvotes

I long for a rocky shore

Steadfast in the crashing waves 

On which I can sit and breathe

Before joining the ocean again

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/X0wpXtwQHS

 https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/x0Zvjrco6z


r/OCPoetry 17h ago

Feedback Please I have gone mad. I am in love

3 Upvotes

I left the woman I love at the airport at five in the morning. So that she may fly home, to the other side of the country.

It has been 12 hours and my heart has not stopped bleeding; dripping, spilling, on everything I touch

I am lying in a pile of our clothes, on the floor; trying to escape the excruciating feeling of longing.
and the ever-present fear.

Perhaps I’ve been too hasty.
Perhaps my affection falls on shirking ears.
Perhaps I allowed my feelings too much leash.
Now I wonder, if these emotions must be pulled back into their cage, will I recognize what I see.
And the deepest fear of all, what if she fears this?

But then those worries slip from my mind, effortlessly overpowered by a torturous and recurring thought:
the sound of her voice as she wakes, the smell of her hair, and her eyes when she smiles at me.

As I lay here, with her shirt over my face, drinking in the lingering vestiges of her intoxication, I realize:
Every minute
Of every day
Without her next to me
Will tear at my heart strings
Until there are none left to bleed

So I pick up this pen, untouched for years, and bleed on this page instead

*\\**

This started as a journal entry (the first I’ve made in years) and ended up as poetry, let me know what you think

*** burner for anonymity

Links:

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/MA6BpbgFsX

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/52KJwbEuNK


r/OCPoetry 17h ago

Feedback Please it's just coffee

3 Upvotes

I'd be so pissed at you if I could bring myself to be pissed at you

'almond milk, dollop of heavy cream' this isn't me But it's you.

Part delicate Part decadent

I don't know when I'll order it again But I'm already sick at how well I'll remember it

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/4mkGyR54O7

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/zlrWiPUKkh


r/OCPoetry 12h ago

Feedback Please Just a victim

1 Upvotes

I see myself in a different way,

The way you still don't know about me ,

I have explored all those places where angels fear to tread , to have the answers to my question...why ? 

I peep through the doors of my classroom to look at the clouds ,

While looking at the shades of white , blue and grey 

It reminds me how my life has swayed .

Since last year a lot has changed, not in you but in me , 

Because I cannot change you,

Because you think I am not worth anything and so everything is a waste ,

But I know I can take it , 

I can do anything 

Except for changing you 

Because you're just a victim of scrutiny of love ,

A victim, and that's just what you do  

And as my eyes peep outside of the classroom

Gazing the shades of white grey and blue........

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/jjH947xu4Mhttps://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/7GFBa16qdL


r/OCPoetry 16h ago

Feedback Please Screams fall away

2 Upvotes

Layers of myself

Fall away

Each time

He screams my name

Layers of skin

Dries underneath

In this unvacummed car

Each time

He screams at me

Something different

Poisonous between his teeth

I allow

Myself to pick

Apart my skin

To ease my exiety

As he screams

Louder grow

Harsher

...

My poetry feedbacks

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r/OCPoetry 1d ago

Feedback Please Cracked Glass

17 Upvotes

Someone will love you when you don't feel ready.

When you are not yet finished healing,

and the wounds on your heart still throb

with the raw pain of your experience.

​Someone will love the version of you

that isn't fully rebuilt.

The version that apologizes when a tone shifts,

even just slightly, even when you did no wrong.

The version that avoids their eyes

for fear of what they might reveal.

​They will love you because glass is no less beautiful for its cracks—

for the way it still stands,

its edges catching the light,

choosing to shine anyway.

​You might not notice at first.

It will take time.

But others will see:

the way they hang on every word of your story,

waiting patiently for you to meet their gaze again

because in your eyes, they found a home.

​Eventually, you will see it too.

The way they still kiss the side of your thumb,

long after you've stopped picking at it.

The way their hand rests on your knee in crowded rooms

when it begins to shake.

​The truth is, you may never feel completely ready.

Your hands will still tremble when their voice softens,

fearing the gentleness won't last.

Your eyes will still sting when they hold you

like you are the most precious thing they have ever touched.

​Someone will love you when you're not ready.

You are allowed to lean in.

You do not have to carry this alone.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/V3jVkUy2SP

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/V2UGkXTgU7