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All The Critics Love U In New York
U can dance if U want 2
All the critics love U in New York
U don't have 2 keep the beat
They'll still think it's neat in New York
U can wear what U want 2
It doesn't matter in New York
U could cut off all your hair
I don't think they'd care in New York
All the critics love U in New York
Why U can play what U want 2
All the critics love U in New York
They won't say that U're naive
If U play what U believe in New York
Purple love-amour is all U're in it 4
But don't show it
The reason that U're cool
Is cuz U're from the old school and they know it
All the critics love U in New York
U can dance if U want 2
All the critics love U in New York
U can dance if U want 2
All the critics love U in New York
All the critics love U
song performed by by Prince from 1999
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Critics?
Critics?
They do what they do best...
Undress those who create.
It is easier for them to probe,
Than appreciate.
It is a frustration of sorts,
To be boxed within boundaries.
Not knowing or understanding...
What the force behind creativity means,
Or where it begins...
With perceptions taught and conceived.
They have an awareness of it.
Or so some believe.
Although a conformity upon them visits.
But to comprehend what it is...
And why some have it and they don't,
Really makes them pissed.
Although an 'intelligence'
Once applied can hide this.
Is that why they delight in being critics?
As creators sweat to expand their wits,
Critics enjoy deploying...
A complete misunderstanding of it!
As they assist others like themselves...
Attempting to expand minds of limited demands.
Hoping this attachment,
Delivers to them someone's attention span.
And they get it!
That is why there is so many critics.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Critics
dont look for
critics who treat
your work as an
extension of
themselves
look for critics who
give you a field
for your talent
to grow
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The critic
The status of critics has changed,
The most important critics were those who stood on street
corners
Full of gossip and finger wagging
Or the busty burly matrons whispering over washing lines
These critics were the slanderers
The little vipers who hung by the school gate
Some still do,
This time they sink a pint or two,
In the pub with a couple of pug nose friends
But there is a class of critics
That whitewash your pale white words
Austere and aloof from the proof,
Scrubbed clean and mean,
They murder sentiment
Mock fools without 'a scene'
Redefining the 'new' 'illiterattii, ' who never went to school'
These critics wear brogues.....? ?
Am I being cruel? [or just ironic? ]
The men drink whisky
The women a gin/ vodka and tonic!
Fifty years ago they would 'parade'
In a uniforn of tweed and plaid
Post public school
But some critics just thumbnail through
Half asleep over scripts they render dead/ unread
'They are not amused'
So don't lose any sleep
They have no time you
yvette smith may 2009
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Scrutinized For Their Blemishes
It is easy for many to sit back and critique,
With a judging done of those tasks...
Others produce with a doing to complete.
And if some people are prolific,
From experiences live that dictate this...
The critics are quick,
To stampede out from nowhere it seems...
With criticsms prepared,
Not to uplift or encourage...
But instead,
Demean.
But when given the opportunity to highlight their gifts,
Critics often spew excuses...
As those under microscope,
Are scrutinized for their blemishes.
Although,
Even those who enjoy themselves as critics...
Have moments they don't admit but wish,
An attention given to be critiqued...
Would validate a reason to rid their insecurities,
With a purpose in their minds that solidified their existence.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Picture
I hold an image of the ashtray girl
As the cigarette burns on my chest
I wrote a poem that described her world
That put my friendship to the test
And late at night
Whilst on all fours
She used to watch me kiss the floor
Whats wrong with this picture?
Whats wrong with this picture?
Farewell the ashtray girl
Forbidden snowflake
Beware this troubled world
Watch out for earthquakes
Goodbye to open sores
To broken centre floor
We know we miss her
We miss her picture
Sometimes its faded
Disintegrated
For fear of growing old
Sometimes its faded
Assassinated
For fear of growing old
Farewell the ashtray girl
Angelic fruitcake
Beware this troubled world
Control your intake
Goodbye to open sores
Goodbye and furthermore
We know we miss her
We miss her picture
Sometimes its faded
Disintegrated
For fear of growing old
Sometimes its faded
Assassinated
For fear of growing old
Hang on
Though we try
Its gone
Hang on
Though we try
Its gone
Sometimes its faded
Disintegrated
For fear of growing old
Sometimes its faded
Assassinated
For fear of growing old
Cant stop growing old...
song performed by by Placebo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Critics Have Appeared
critics have appeared
in these cyber times
hunting for poems
and passing wise words
on poems they swallow in seconds
and whose comments are like puke;
and whose own gems of poems when you seek
it turns out, they have not published any
at the very poetry portals where they pass such magnificent judgment…
O Ye Critics who hunt for poems
come back another day
when you have poems some of your very own…
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Facts Enacted
Very few 'doers' are without their critics.
And they may be relatives.
Or 'close' friends to suspect.
When one does things that are made public...
No matter who they are,
They will be scrutinized.
And flooded with advice and suggestions to test!
Very few 'doers' are without their critics.
Especially those who have expressed their concerns.
They are the ones often scandalized.
With a receiving of a 'burning'
For their good deeds in return.
And the evidence of that...
Becomes evident,
With the witnessing of those facts enacted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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May I Have Another Helping of Those Delicious Critics, Please?
What do I have to say,
To those who are my critics?
I have been aware of them,
Since I began taking my first steps.
Since my first breath taken...
Was done independently.
I've heard it said,
My lifetime of actions...
By them has been disapproved.
And things I do have been ego led.
It's believed what I do,
Is done to seek attention.
Even those things I do to cleanse,
In privacy...
I care not mention.
We all have talents,
And those gifts that are given.
How I use the ones I have...
Aren't from a critic's invention.
Or maybe because of the creation of 'them'.
Who knows?
Perhaps that's what has them upset.
And if they have time like that to waste...
Don't hesitate in delay to say,
I am just getting started.
And what I've given to them to nibble...
Is just a little taste.
From a baking not completed,
Yet imaginations rate!
They have no idea,
Of who I am!
Or the making of 'me'.
And-what-that-takes!
Since I'm the cooker who does the feeding...
I know who eats!
And those served,
That ate.
Those who choose to regurgitate...
Do it without my decision given to make!
What do I have to say,
To those who are my critics?
I do admire their efforts,
But...
What's there is there for them to digest.
I'm not about to give up my peace,
Or my mind for them to test.
My eyes are clear,
And focused on my progress.
Not on things that I've done.
For purposes to keep manifested,
The days I spent in my youth...
Doing things to shock and stun,
Just for the 'hell' of having devilish fun.
Although I must admit,
There is 'something' about controversy...
That appetites my palate much more than just a bit.
'Excuse me...
I know I shouldn't.
Since I am here by invitation.
But,
May I have another helping of those delicious critics,
Please?
I can not believe they could be this delicious.
What have these critics been mixed with? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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After he was assassinated, his family and the men who had served him continued the lying and began the destruction, censoring and hiding of JFK's medical records.
quote by Richard Reeves
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Improbale dream for my fellow poets
A hundred years from now may be.
Someone will read my poetry
and wonder how I came to write
my simple thoughts in black and white.
Amused by my naiveté
my complete lack of sophistry
Perhaps in pity they will give,
me credit as a primitive.
Just as some critics do today.
Poke fun at the old fashioned way
in which past poets used to write.
Immortal verse which can delight
their readers of the present day.
Despite what critics have to say.
15-Dec-07
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I especially object to having my character assassinated by reference to events from my past which bear absolutely no relationship to the question of who the anthrax killer is.
quote by Steven Hatfill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hyperbolic
The actor!
His greater mentor;
The actress!
Her greator mentor;
With critics and the hyperbolic of things,
But this satirical case is always seen around us.
Trained from oral history,
Trained from oral works,
And like the beauty of love plus the act of peace;
With critics and the hyerbolic of the things around us today,
But, my sweet mind will lead me on always.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Room for improvement for Leslie
Critics express their point of view.
As they have every right to do
I will give credit where it’s due.
So I consider each review
as of potential benefit
Though I may not agree with it.
It may well be I can profit
by reading what my critics writ.
I treat all critiques just the same
accepting praise accepting blame.
All part and parcel of the game.
Improvement is my only aim.
So please feel free to state your view
You might well teach me something new.
13-Feb-09
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Artists teach critics what to think. Critics repeat what the artists teach them.
quote by Sol LeWitt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There was one occasion when I was very young - eight years or seven years old - that Jewish businessmen went through the forest, and they were assassinated. And that was for the first time I saw in our paper where there were assassinations in our place.
quote by Shimon Peres
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kennedy had been assassinated a month or so before. So we walked to the grave of John Kennedy and ended our walking symbolically at the Arlington National Cemetery.
quote by Satish Kumar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Need
Why is it,
People are quicker to invite outsiders...
To destroy them.
Than they are to listen patiently,
To those who have their best interests...
With a protecting of their backs,
From being character assassinated.
What's up with that?
'The need.'
The need?
The need for what?
'The need to appear as ignorant as possible.
With a hope someone will find their stupidity attractive.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Prove Critics Fools
No matter who does what,
Just do.
No matter who does what,
Just do.
No matter who does what,
Just do.
With a doing to be done...
To do.
And...
Deliver to the people to prove,
Critics fools.
Deliver to the people to prove,
Critics fools.
And deliver to the people to prove,
Critics fools.
Just deliver to the people to prove,
Critics fools.
No matter who does what,
Just do.
No matter who does what,
Just do.
No matter who does what,
Just do.
With a doing to be done...
To do.
With a doing to prove critics fools.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Legends
We've seen them,
Being knocked down.
We've seem them,
Slandered and berated.
We've hurt them,
As they were...
Character assassinated.
And...
They were also ostracized and isolated.
So what will happen to them next?
'There are those who now wish to call them,
Legends.
And put that in a way that is for all effective.
With awards to honor them for what had been rejected.
With the hopes they will show up and all of us accepted,
As fans! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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