Poems and Peers

   I discovered something I hate this week.  In my creative writing class, we were put into groups of four to critique one another's poems.  I was put with one of my friends--that was perfectly fine--and two girls.  Now, I have nothing against peer evaluation, except that... Okay I do.  Don't get me wrong, I love when people help me with organization, grammar, punctuation, word order and things like that on the essays I've written, but when it comes to poems, it's a little different.
   See, I happened to have a completely different writing style than the people in my group (one girl in particular).  If we were spices, I'd be something like chili powder and she'd be something like.... well, some bland spice (I do know that is an oxymoron, yes).  As a person, she's completely fine.  But as a critic, I dislike her minor close mindedness problem.  And she says age-ed instead of aged.  Who does that?
   What I'm basically trying to say is I didn't like when she tried to change my poem to make it her style.  That's all.
   I wrote this poem during the summer of '09 and I've been tweaking it ever since.  I'm very pleased with it.  It was inspired by Anis Mojgani, as usual.

Lost

Listening to my ears hear the crackling barely noise of this old radio,

it talks about neighbors and Jesus and lightbulbs.

It shows my ears the landscape of the noise light.

We talk together, my radio and I, about buildings and growing and batteries.

It takes my feelings and spits them back out into my dry, frozen hands,

changing them into un-butterflies and crushed sugar cubes.

The girl across the street has grown up so fast,

but maybe it’s just us.

Everything in the world is changing,

the wheat heads are severed, we eat it through our animals.

The shudders of the world are ridden by man like a carnival-

they cause this.

And my radio and I,

we sit, we listen to our ears hear the crackling barely noise of death.

We listen to our ears hear the wet of their eyes after,

we listen to our ears hear the cheerless song of the lost.