May I ask from all negative critics of my work, to Constructively Criticize this piece? C/C please?

Question

The poem is a Pantoun, so do not talk about repetitions please.
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Virtues inscribe my feast

Rains embrace adjoining, in sepia stills,
sea waves plea on fog moors, and stars,
virtues inscribe my feast, and blue quills.
nights enslave our modes, beyond bars.

Sea waves plea on fog moors, and stars,
Winds whistle in pine trees, of longness,
nights enslave our modes, behind bars,
a cold gust enters my window openness.

Winds whistle in pine trees, of longness,
cloudy call, ominous, transports my rave,
a cold wind enters, my window openness.
with lost lives escaping to celestial naves.

Cloudy call, ominous, transports my rave,
my house lays in fog, amid vast pastures,
with lost lives escaping to celestial naves,
misty entreaty of air, on formed structures.

My house lays in fog, amid vast pastures,
rains embrace adjoining, in sepia stills,
misty entreaty of air, on formed structures,
virtues inscribe my feast, and blue quills.

Copyright © - G. V.- 04.23.2012 (St. George's Day)
/ PoemH. 30801326
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This is a typical token of my work. I want the members that condemned my work with empty and foolish remarks, to present something of their own, better than this. Also to tell me where the poem is weak and why. Comments of any illiterate and negatively empathetic sort, without containing proof of claim, as they always offer, must stay out. All members that have used my name publicly in any negative manner are invited to submit a worthy piece of their work. If the have one.
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Answer 1

This poem ... sends a shiver straight up ya spine ... but it is boring.

I'm sorry but if it were written for the dead people you grieve over ... still boring?

I don't think it is bad poetry ... just not catchy ... not brilliant ... that's all.

Virtues inscribe my feast ...

Very intimate is ya beast ...

Trolls worry? at the least ...

*

This is the only thing I have read ... can we read another from your head?

*

I do not approve of complaints in public from frustrated Poets?



The wind she whistles up my stairs as fog settles heavily upon who cares?

Empty paddocks in a one horse town with rain that tumbles on the shares ...

Blue quills in a summer daze as merrily we pick flowers with feathers and maze.

Behind bars and empty jam jars lays cigars in cars and a picture of mars.

A ghost town in a haunted house ...

and a roasted gun in the hands of a taunted mouse ...

Forever lost in the lands of the mist ...

Oh childhood memories, I've lost the gist ...

Behind the bars in a misty house of fog ...

Lays Gio and his friendly one eyed dog ...

Beneath the words and into his poetry ...

Says depth of words to set us all free ...

Foolish of me to ever challenge a boss ...

Oh foolish words that don't give a toss ...

I like any words even as they say loss ...

To Gio the poet from a fairy girl, Floss?

Answer 2

I do NOT know about categories or genre of poetry.

This poem goes from rhyming to not.Should it?



Rains embrace adjoining, in sepia stills,

sea waves plea on fog moors, and stars,

virtues inscribe my feast, and blue quills.

nights enslave our modes, beyond bars.



Stills,stars,quills,bars. seems good.



Cloudy call, ominous, transports my rave,

my house lays in fog, amid vast pastures,

with lost lives escaping to celestial naves,

misty entreaty of air, on formed structures.



rave,pastures,naves,structures?



seems out of place and in error..

Answer 3

Gio I've never tagged you in a negative way though you have on me. I also do not believe Poetry is a competative sport. Beyond that, while your poetry might excel, not everyone can like everything.

Answer 4

Your house :





" lays in fog "



your poetry is much the same.



My disappointment lies in a bog.

Answer 5

I hate your poem! :))

Do you believe me???