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Review of THE FRONT  Open in new Window.
Review by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (4.5)
I enjoyed your short story, Bob! I wish it was longer.

Title
The Front captures the essence of a carefully constructed facade, hinting at the protagonist’s dual life of projecting confidence and style while concealing personal struggles. It’s concise, evocative, and sets the stage for a story about appearances versus reality.

Narrative
The story follows a resourceful high school senior who navigates economic hardship with creativity and grit. The protagonist’s life is a balancing act: maintaining a polished image at school through self-cut hair and thrifted, self-tailored clothes, while working long hours at a Dairy Queen to support herself and her disabled mother. The narrative shines in its vivid depiction of her ingenuity—sewing her own clothes, scouring thrift stores, and building a fashion portfolio despite limited means. The introduction of Ricky, a kind and respectful love interest, adds emotional depth, though his role feels slightly underdeveloped until the final twist. The pacing is brisk, covering her daily grind, romantic tension, and aspirations in a compact arc. The reveal that Ricky’s family owns the fashion company she aspires to join ties the story neatly, though the ending feels a touch abrupt, leaving the resolution open-ended.

Overall View
This is a compelling snapshot of resilience and ambition, blending themes of class, identity, and self-reliance. The protagonist’s voice is authentic, and her determination to rise above her circumstances through creativity is inspiring. The contrast between her public persona and private struggles is well-executed, though the story could benefit from deeper exploration of her relationship with Ricky and a more fleshed-out conclusion. It’s a heartfelt, relatable tale that celebrates perseverance and the transformative power of self-expression through fashion.


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for entry "Help!" Open in new Window.
Review by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (5.0)
Cool! I love what you’ve written here! Why? Because I can relate myself to your poem!
—Noisy Wren
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Review of Silent Witness  Open in new Window.
Review by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (4.5)
Title
THE MIRROR is a simple yet evocative title that perfectly captures the poem’s perspective. It positions the mirror as the narrator, a silent observer with an intimate view of the girl’s life, which feels unique and personal. The all-caps title adds a touch of emphasis, like the mirror asserting its role. It’s a clever choice that draws readers in, hinting at both reflection and revelation.

Narrative
The poem unfolds through the mirror’s perspective, chronicling a girl’s life from infancy to adolescence. It begins with nostalgic memories, her mother dancing with her as a newborn, her toddler steps, and her childhood braids and Barbie dolls. The tone shifts as the girl becomes a “seventeen-year-old Aphrodite,” marked by golden hair and jewelry, but also isolation and depression. The mirror observes her struggles: overprotective family, loneliness, and a craving for a sibling or freedom. Her academic success and love for books offer a glimmer of hope, but her longing for a “simple life” and connection with the outside world remains unfulfilled. The mirror’s voice is tender, almost grieving, as it wishes for her happiness. The narrative is poignant, blending warmth with sadness.

Overall View
THE MIRROR is a touching, creative story that uses the mirror’s perspective to weave a story of growth, beauty, and quiet pain. Its vivid imagery, like the “newly budded rose” or “invisible tear,” and emotional depth make it relatable, especially for anyone who’s felt trapped or lonely. The mirror’s empathetic voice adds a unique layer, making it feel like a loyal friend. It’s a beautiful piece to spark deep conversations about identity and freedom.

—Noisy Wren


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Review by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (5.0)
Hey, Little Sister, I love your Biographical Essay. From the sound of it, you had a good time with your classmates and Teachers. I think you also enjoyed your learning experience. I’m looking forward to learning more about you as I fly through and read more of your Ports offerings!
—Noisy Wren


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Review of bits & pieces  Open in new Window.
Review by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ | (4.0)
Title
Bits & Pieces is a poignant title that captures the poem’s fragmented feel—like scattered shards of emotions or memories. It hints at love’s messy beauty, inviting readers to piece together the speaker’s story. Simple yet evocative, setting a reflective tone without revealing too much.

Narrative
The poem traces love’s emotional arc across four stanzas. It starts with dreamy romance - the “mesmerizing gaze” and “virtuous love” but hints at fragility with “tranquil haze.” The second stanza shifts to “misery worn deep” and “bitter remorse,” suggesting some heartbreak or regret. The third dives into chaotic “torturous passion” and “brazen disgust,” showing love’s destructive side. The final stanza lands on “frail emotions” and “paralyzed screams,” probably indicating the speaker is emotionally spent. It’s a universal, snapshot type of story showing love’s highs and lows.

Overall View
Bits & Pieces is a raw, heartfelt poem that nails love’s complexity. It’s joyful, painful, and messy. Its vivid imagery and tight rhythm pull me into the speaker’s vulnerable world. It’s honest, not shying away from love’s darker side, and its open-endedness invites personal reflection. It pulls at my heartstrings.


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Review of The Last Chapter  Open in new Window.
Review by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ | (4.5)
Title: 5/5
"The Last Chapter" is a fitting and evocative title that captures the dual narrative of both Detective Allen Cromwell’s final case and Christina Cassock’s struggle to conclude her series.

Narrative: 4/5
The narrative weaves a compelling blend of a gritty noir detective story and a personal drama about a writer’s creative and emotional journey. The vivid imagery, like the “hiss of a flame” and New York’s “stench of crime,” immerses the reader in Cromwell’s world, while Christina’s introspections ground the story in relatable human struggles. The dialogue is natural and drives character development, particularly in scenes between Christina and Adam.

Overall View: 4/5
This piece is a strong, emotionally resonant story that successfully merges a classic detective tale with a writer’s personal conflict. The parallels between Adam and Cromwell add depth, though the noir elements lean on familiar tropes like the jaded detective and femme fatale. Christina’s arc as a creator wrestling with her creation is compelling, but the story could benefit from fresher twists to elevate its originality. The prose is polished, and the emotional climax is impactful, making this a solid read. Overall it’s a great effort, and I enjoyed the read. I like this author's work.


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Review of Forgotten Child  Open in new Window.
Review by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (5.0)
Title
"Forgotten Child" is painfully fitting. The word “forgotten” carries the weight of being erased not just by circumstance but by those who should’ve remembered him. It’s blunt, yes, but that bluntness mirrors the unapologetic cruelty of his reality. Knowing the context, the title feels less like a poetic choice and more like a scar.

Narrative
The narrative is a gut-wrenching reflection of bi0Hazard’s losses. The absence of “trace,” “shadow,” or “incense jar” now reads like a direct reference to the destruction... The lines “no scratches on the wall, no groaning door” scream of a place—and a life—obliterated, with nothing left to prove it existed. The voice declaring “you’ll be a man, if you outlast” feels like a haunting echo of survival amidst unimaginable loss. The poem’s refusal to offer specifics mirrors the erasure of his past, but knowing the Serbia context, I see how it’s not just poetic restraint—it’s the reality of having nothing left to grasp. The “strangers who forgot I was a child” could even point to * I’m not saying * or the world that moved on. It’s a tight, devastating story that carries his pain without exploiting it.

Overall Impression
This poem is a masterpiece of restraint and rawness. The imagery of a voided past, the rhythm of short, sharp lines—it all mirrors the violence of loss, both physical and emotional. It’s not just about a forgotten childhood; it’s about a stolen identity, a life erased by war and greed. The poem’s power lies in how it says so much with so little, letting the reader feel the weight without spelling it out. Knowing the backstory, there’s nothing more I could ask for—it’s perfect in its pain. My friend Bi0Hazard has crafted something that’s not just poetry but a testament to survival. It’s unforgettable. I still have goosebumps...


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Review of B for BROTHER!  Open in new Window.
Review by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (4.5)
Noisy Wren Review: B is for Brother

Title
B is for Brother is a concise and evocative title that captures the heart of Sister Hummingbird’s story—the redefinition of brotherhood through chosen bonds. It’s simple yet poignant, tying directly to the narrative’s emotional core. A hint of poetic flair could elevate it further, but it lands with quiet resonance.

Narrative
Sister Hummingbird weaves a vivid tale of Zakia, a young woman trudging through Dhaka’s streets with a cane and a heavy backpack, her physical and emotional burdens palpable. The cultural backdrop—cycle rickshaws, the prestigious Maple Leaf International School—grounds the story in a rich Bangladeshi setting. Zakia’s journey from isolation, marked by her disability and the haunting loss of her brother, to finding solace in new friends like Naveed and Riffat, unfolds with heartfelt clarity. The dialogue sparkles in moments of camaraderie, like the rain-soaked French fry scene, but transitions can feel abrupt, such as Riffat’s sudden offer of brotherhood. The narrative shines in its raw portrayal of grief and healing, though tighter pacing and deeper exploration of key moments could sharpen its emotional weight.

Overall Impression
This story flutters like a hummingbird, delicate yet resilient, carrying the ache of loss and the warmth of newfound connection. Sister Hummingbird’s prose paints Zakia’s world with vivid details—the sweat on her brow, the river’s tragic pull, the comfort of friends. The theme of chosen family, crystallized in Riffat’s role as a brother, hums with sincerity, though the story occasionally wanders into tangents that soften its focus. It’s a tender, moving read that nests in the heart, inviting readers to reflect on love and loss. Sister Hummingbird, your words weave a fragile yet fierce tapestry—keep soaring.


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Review by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (4.0)
Title
Acrostic Name Poem is about as plain as a dirt road sign. It tells you exactly what you’re gettin’: an acrostic spellin’ out “Leslie Michelle Lomack,” no bells or whistles. It’s like namin’ a pie “Pie”—functional, but not exactly grabbin’ you by the collar. The title’s honest, though, since her name is the backbone of the poem, each line startin’ with a letter to stitch it together. This title's clear enough, just not the kind to make you stop and stare.

Narrative
The poem, to me, makes the writer quite alluring. In this respect, “Mission Accomplished,” making’ me wish I was Brian! It follows Leslie, who’s walkin’ through a noisy crowd, feelin’ like a star with “lovely, luscious” charm and “hazelnut chocolate” eyes. She’s got her heart set on Brian, her one true love, and the story tracks her journey from catchin’ eyes to findin’ her forever man. It’s a love tale, plain and simple—she’s dodgin’ “lifeless, broken hearts” and headin’ toward a fairy-tale ending where their “hearts once two have now become one.” She’s got doubts (“I don’t know why this man loves me, still”), which make her feel real, like someone wrestlin’ with confidence and hope.

The acrostic form, spellin’ out her name, shapes the story but trips it up sometimes—lines like “Ill” or “Caution to love” feel forced to fit the letters. It’s got a romantic arc, movin’ from her strut through the crowd to a love that’s “eternally intertwined,” with nods to lions, queens, and scripture-like lines (“love is patient and kind”). It’s a young woman’s dream of a perfect romance, maybe inspired by movies or church, but it leans hard on familiar ideas, makin’ it feel more heartfelt than fresh.

Overall Impression
This Poem has got a lot of heart, like a love letter scribbled in a hurry. Leslie’s passion comes through in lines about “moonlight glimmers” and “aromas” that make me feel her excitement. The imagery’s strong in spots—those “chestnut brown” eyes and “goosebumps” hit you right—but it gets bogged down by clichés like “fits so tight like a glove” and “fairy tale like love.” The acrostic is a neat trick, but it forces some awkward words, and the grammar’s a bit shaky (“till’” instead of “till,” missin’ commas). Those comic font tags from writing.com are like weeds in a garden, messin’ with the flow. Perhaps she hasn’t gotten the hang of WritingML yet.

You can feel the writer's soul here—it’s beautiful, she’s a romantic, maybe a bit unsure of herself, dreamin’ of a love with Brian that’ll last forever. She’s got a hopeful streak, maybe from faith or storybooks, but the poem feels young, because she is, and like she’s still figurin’ out how to say it all. Ignoring the tags, It’s got vivid moments and real emotion, but the clichés, forced phrasing, and rough edges keep it from shinin’ brighter. With some polish, she could write somethin’ that really sings and drags my heart right along with her. I loved it. Write on, Sister!


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Review by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (4.5)
Title
“A World Without Shame” hits like Thor’s Hammer, laying bare the poem’s heart before you even dive in. It’s ripped straight from the line “a world without shame / is a world I’ll never see,” which screams both a desperate wish and a bitter truth. This title doesn’t mess around—it’s a middle finger to the idea of plastering on a fake smile in a world that chews up authenticity and spits it out. It sets the stage for the speaker’s raw defiance, promising a poem that won’t sugarcoat the struggle or pretend the impossible is just around the corner. It’s a perfect hook, daring you to face the dirt and darkness head-on.

Narrative
This poem, “A World Without Shame,” doesn’t just tell a story—it claws its way through one. It kicks off with a hard no to writing some fluffy “happy poem,” the speaker’s voice practically snarling, “My brain won’t lie / My fingers won’t fake it.” From there, it’s a jagged ride through memories that cut deep: a “winter kitchen” with “empty jars” and a mother’s hands “counting shadows of bread.” That’s not just imagery—it’s a knife twisting in the gut of anyone who’s known hunger or loss. The poem doesn’t stay small, though—it rips into a world where joy’s been “chewed to pulp” and sold in “pretty colors,” where people hide their pain behind “grinning masks” and kiss their own reflections to feel whole. It’s a middle finger to those who fake it, but it’s not just rage. The speaker’s fighting their own war, hiding “blood” under clean shirts, carrying stains their shadow can’t shake. By the end, they’re vowing to “claw through the dark” with “cracked hands” for a truth they know might never come. The free verse, all sharp lines and broken rhythms, feels like the speaker’s pulse—erratic, real, unpolished. It’s a story of surviving, not thriving, and it doesn’t pretend otherwise.

Overall Impression
Bi0Hazard’s “A World Without Shame” is a raw, no-bulls*** gut-check of a poem, and this take on it gets that. It nails the vivid stuff—like “cracked hands” scraping through the dark and “shadows of bread” that haunt a starving kitchen—showing how the poem makes you feel the weight of every word. It calls out the poem’s big swing at a world full of fakers, those “grinning masks” and “painted misery,” and shows how it’s both personal as hell and something anyone with a pulse can relate to. The critique doesn’t shy away from pointing out where it could hit harder—some lines like “feels like war” lean on tired tropes, and a few stanzas could be sharpened to cut deeper. The title’s role as both a dream and a slap in the face ties it all together, though digging into that a bit more wouldn’t hurt. Overall, this take sees the poem for what it is: a fierce, honest howl against a world that demands lies, delivered with enough grit to make you believe every word. Keep swinging’ that hammer, Brother!


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Review of My Car  Open in new Window.
Review by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ | (4.5)
Noisy Wren's Analysis, My Real and Honest Perspective:

If you've seen my writing, you realize I tend to ramble with many words on the page, so here you go! This story's a gut-punch thriller, like a harbinger screeching a warning in a dark forest. Dan Sullivan's a man on a mission, slipping away from his family with a cryptic note, dodging drones and doorbell cams like he's in a war zone. The paranoia's real, and it fits my old world, where threats lurked around every corner. Natalia Blake's burka scheme is the story's sharpest claw: she's banking on the public's fear of Muslims to pin a bombing on them, exploiting their violent track record. In my experienced view, this isn't a trope; it's a mirror to a faith rooted in murderous decrees against Christians, Jews, and anyone not bowing to Islam. The story nails that raw edge, using the burka to hide her anarchist plot while tapping into a fear I'd say history backs up.

The sting twist—Kyle and the crew being FBI, CIA, TBI—flips the script hard. It seems you did some research for this story, or you have some knowledge of real world Tennessee law enforcement cooperation with Federal Agencies under your belt. With respect to your story, It’s like finding out the wolves are shepherds in disguise. Natalia’s poison-ring suicide is a dark, defiant exit, cementing her as a mastermind who’d rather die than spill secrets. It’s also sometimes still a reality in the gritty world of subterfuge. The fever-dream reveal, tied to Dan’s stack of The Man Who Was Thursday and Agatha Christie, is a brain-bender, suggesting his subconscious is wrestling with the same threats I see in the real world. Dialogue pops—Kyle’s "You're a secret agent, ain't you? No sweat—so am I." cuts through the tension, and Natalia’s cold, calculated vibe effectively chills. The sting’s logistics are a bit shaky, the agents not knowing each other’s a stretch, but the inactive explosives feel on point, but I imagine the prompt’s tight leash, if this story is the result of one, keeps it lean, focusing on suspense over nitty-gritty details.

What sings here is how the story leans into my past life's reality: Natalia's plan weaponizes the burka and public fear of Islamic extremism, reflecting my view of Muslims as a group as a dangerous, hateful force. It’s not subtle, but neither’s my real world experience. The dream twist adds depth—Dan’s fevered mind conjures a plot that feels real because it echoes threats I’ve lived through in this ugly real world. The only snag? The sting could’ve been tighter, and Natalia’s quick exit leaves some questions hanging. Still, it’s a raw, gripping ride that doesn’t shy away from the edge.

My Rating: 4.5/5
This story’s fast, tense, and unapologetic, mirroring my experienced view of Muslims as a violent threat through Natalia’s burka ploy. The dream twist and book tie-in are clever, grounding it in Dan’s headspace. It loses half of a point for the sting’s loose ends, but it’s a fierce, focused tale. I enjoyed it from its inception to its conclusion!

—Noisy Wren


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Review of Paradise?  Open in new Window.
Review by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (5.0)
WAAAAAHHHHHAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAA! Thanks so much for writing this silly poem. You gave me a good laugh right from the first stanza. I love silly poems; the laughs and chuckles give me hours of joy. I'll probably still be chuckling about those wallabies when I finally doze off tonight! Oh, yeah, the promise to not do drugs or step on slugs? Nah. I wouldn't keep that one.

—Noisy Wren


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Review of Buried Name  Open in new Window.
Review by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (5.0)
The intentional ambiguity of the unspoken sentence is a brilliant move — a hook that keeps the reader lingering, wondering about the weight of what’s unsaid. It’s a subtle tease, inviting us to fill in the blanks with our own emotions or guesses, which amplifies the poem’s impact. The poem’s economy, vivid imagery, and that deliberate, tantalizing ambiguity make it a complete and compelling piece. It’s a quiet gut-punch that sticks with you. I always enjoy reading Bi0Hazards works. Keep it up, Brother!


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Review of Barren Fields  Open in new Window.
Review by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (5.0)
Wow. This English version loses a bit of the beauty of the deep Serbian philosophical and moral expression in the translation, but I'm flipping back and forth between the 2 languages in my effort to try to understand and express myself here.

I don't feel confident enough in my understanding of the Serbian language to effectively appreciate the writer's heart or, through the translation, to make a good review, but here are my short thoughts on the poem.

It's a raw, visceral exploration of the act of writing for an audience that is emotionally or spiritually unresponsive—those described as "soulless," "empty," or "past begging." It grapples with the tension between the poet's compulsion to create and the futility of reaching an audience that seems impervious to words. The clicker crowd is hard to please...

I believe this poem centers on the challenge of writing for the "soulless" or emotionally disconnected, contrasting them with those who are receptive to words ("the cracked, the bleeding, the almost-healed"). It questions the purpose of writing for an audience that hasn't responded yet and asserts the necessity of doing so simply because they exist. It explores themes of persistence, defiance, and the intrinsic value of art, even in the face of indifference. The final stanza introduces a note of hope, albeit defiant and rugged, suggesting a refusal to give up despite the barrenness of the audience.

The poet's motivation is not to save or change the unresponsive but to acknowledge their existence through the act of writing. This gives the poem a universal resonance, speaking to the artist's struggle to create for an audience that may not care, a theme relevant to any creative endeavor.

I hope I've done justice to Frojdova unuka with my thoughts. She's a beautiful soul, and I wish I knew her as you do. At the very least, we would be friends. I'm drawn to her through her beautiful soul. You've also done something extraordinary by bringing her here and posting your translation. I hope I haven't gotten too personal in my review. Still, I get drawn into my "introspective museum" when exposed to her expression of deep, thoughtful content.

—Noisy Wren


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Review by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (5.0)
R O F L O L! Ha, ha, thanks for drawing out my smile so early this morning! I know y'all are going to have fun, I can see it in your faces already, and that's a significant part of life. The Jungle Book is a timeless classic and acting it out sounds like a great way to spend a little bit of time.

Noisy Wren
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Review by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (5.0)
This poem explores the struggle of an artist, a gritty honest poet, grappling with the commodification of his work and the lack of appreciation during a poet's lifetime. It delves into themes of authenticity, societal indifference, and posthumous recognition. Bi0Hazard reflects on how his genuine, heartfelt words ("scribbles from my core") are undervalued, only traded for superficial "screens" or ignored unless they conform to societal expectations ("rigid mold"). The poem also critiques how pain, a universal currency, is only marketable when it’s distant or belongs to others, not when it’s personal. The final stanzas shift to a bitter foresight of posthumous fame, where his work will be celebrated only after his death, when they no longer seek validation or reward.

The imagery is visceral and grounded, with phrases like "hawked words for spare change," "soil folds me in," and "bare bones" evoking a raw, almost physical sense of struggle and mortality. The language is direct yet layered, using metaphors like "rigid mold" and "cheap veil" to critique conformity and insincere sentimentality. The tone is melancholic but defiant, with a sharp edge of irony in lines like "now that I demand nothing in return." This poem’s brevity enhances its intensity, packing complex emotions into concise, punchy stanzas.

The poem’s free verse structure mirrors the speaker’s unfiltered, unpolished voice, rejecting the "rigid mold" they critique. Short lines and stanzas create a staccato rhythm, reflecting the halting, fragmented experience of being undervalued. The progression from present struggle to future posthumous recognition is clear, with the final stanza delivering a powerful, resigned closure.

This poem’s strength lies in its raw honesty and relatability, especially for creatives who feel unseen. The speaker’s frustration and quiet resignation resonate deeply, while the critique of society’s hypocrisy stings without being preachy. The closing lines leave a haunting aftertaste, emphasizing the futility of posthumous praise.

It’s a powerful piece of work that showcases bi0Hazard’s skill and depth.

Well done, brother.
Noisy Wren


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Review of Wings  Open in new Window.
Review by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (5.0)
Bi0Hazard’s poem is a raw, visceral meditation on youth, loss, and the relentless grind of time. It weaves a narrative of chasing dreams, confronting mortality, and grappling with life’s indifference, delivered in a gritty, conversational tone. The imagery is vivid and jagged, the language unpolished yet deliberate, and the structure—short, fragmented stanzas—mirrors the disjointedness of memory and regret. The poem’s emotional core is its unflinching honesty, tempered by a cynical edge that avoids sentimentality.

My favorite line is "metal beasts clawing the sky." This poem could also easily apply to other metal beasts that claw the sky yet are tethered to the dirt, unable to fly, and the many who have been claimed by the ground, battling fate.

Bi0Hazard's poem is a compelling, hard-hitting reflection on dreams, mortality, and disillusionment, elevated by its vivid imagery and unflinching voice. It earns high marks for emotional authenticity and economy. Bi0Hazaed has crafted a piece that lingers like a bruise — painful, memorable, and undeniably human.

I reiterate the honor bestowed by Bi0Hazard — Rest In Peace, IceMan — Your longest Journey has just begun.

—NoisyWren


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Review of No Us Left  Open in new Window.
Review by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (5.0)
Let me preface this review by saying: As a supporter of this author and his works and having read much of the content of his published books, I have a bit of an advantage over the casual reader. I’m looking down into his well, and it’s a crystal view by exposure.

This poem by Bi0hazard, “No Us Left,” hits like a nuclear powered fist to my gut. It’s got three layers of pain woven together, and I feel I see them all clear as day. First, it’s about losing someone close — maybe even a piece of himself. The lines about “your scent bleeds out like a wound” and “a hole where you used to laugh” scream of the raw ache of someone being gone. It’s personal like he’s stuck in a room haunted by their ghost, smelling them, hearing their songs, but they’re never coming back. He’s angry at time for dragging him away from them, calling midnight a “bastard” and the day a “cheap con.” It’s grief, pure honesty, and brutally revealing ink.

But it’s bigger than that. The second layer is him spitting in the face of fate and life itself. He’s not just mourning — he’s fighting the whole universe. Lines like “screw fate, it can’t have me” and “I’m not giving time my hours, my breath, my name” say he’s done bowing to anything that tries to break him. It’s like he’s standing in the dark, flicking his cigarette at the wind, daring the world to take him down. He’s saying life, time, and all their lies can go to hell. Bi0Hazard has an unquenchable fire in his gut, a voice that won’t quit, and he’s not letting anything dampen and snuff it out.

Then there’s the third layer, the one that burns hottest. This poem is a middle finger to the crowd who eats up his pain for free. The superficial people who are all talk don’t back up their mouths with their hands. They’re greedy, sucking up his words like vultures, giving nothing back. He rightly calls them out here in this powerful piece of soul. In the poem, the “darkness” that can “rot like a bad joke” is a duality of meaning, present anger and his past torture of loss — The “broke jukebox” is their empty cheers, all noise, and no heart, but also the past torture of personal loss. When he says, “I’m still here, and there’s no us left to die,” he’s not just referring to his past loss but cutting ties with the betrayal of the superficial clicker crowd who suck up freely but are without honor by their unsupportive hand. He’s standing alone as an artist who won’t beg.

This poem’s raw and messy, like a scream you can’t hold in. It jumps from grief to defiance to anger, but that’s why it works. It’s this author saying he’s lost someone, he’s lost hope in fate, and he’s lost patience with people who take but don’t give. Yet he’s still standing, with that fire burning, ready to keep writing no matter what. It’s a poem about surviving all kinds of loss and coming out swinging. It’s deep and magnificent; all soul poured out as ink.

Right on, brother, write on.
—Noisy Wren


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Review by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (5.0)
Hey Bi0Hazard, I popped your Belgrade poem into my rating tool, and it got a 4.5/5. It’s pretty stingy with the numbers, but — For me, it's a solid 5. I love the gritty imagery and haunting vibe! I also had DAll-E whip up a visual of the park scene, capturing the young and the old man on the bench and that moody autumn atmosphere. I'll send it to you if you're interested. You’ve got a real knack for pulling readers into your world. Keep scratching those truths—you're killing it!

Your Forest Friend,
Noisy Wren


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Review of Silver Side  Open in new Window.
Review by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ | (5.0)
Yo, Chloe! Love your Silver Side Short! I’m granting you the elusive 5 rating also. I have a poem that fits side by side with your short story, check me out.
 
STATIC
Don't Look In The Mirror 13+ Open in new Window. (13+)
Mirrors trap alter-egos in this dark poem. One glance, you're caught. Dare to look? Horror
#2340199 by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon


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Review of Her Steady Light  Open in new Window.
Review by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (5.0)
Wow, your poem "Her Steady Light" hit me hard bro — it’s such a raw, beautiful tribute to this incredible woman and the lifeline she’s been for you. The way you describe her apartment, with those sagging shelves and the smell of old books, pulled me right into her world, and lines like “heart heavier than the snow outside” cut deep with their honesty. I felt as though I was there with you, sitting on that couch, drinking tea. You’ve nailed her quiet strength and fragility, especially with that image of her shaky hands and stubborn heart. This is a stunner. It’s the kind of poem that sticks with you. Amazing work, brother!


—Noisy Wren


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Review by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (4.0)
Hey, I really enjoyed your poem about Squantz Pond—it’s got this quiet, reverent vibe that pulls you right into the scene. The way you paint the autumn colors and that cool, clear water is vivid, and I love how each stanza builds to a deeper emotion, especially that tear at the end. The structure with those "To [verb] upon Squantz Pond" lines ties it all together beautifully. Since it was your first one, I’m not gonna critique it. But honestly, it’s a gem that captures the pond’s magic perfectly. Great work!


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Review of Pain stains  Open in new Window.
Review by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (4.5)
As one who is stained quite deeply I totally understand your short poem. Read my essay.

STATIC
Thief of Words  Open in new Window. (13+)
If you want to know me, here’s the open door. Read this Poetic Memoir.
#2339668 by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon


—Noisy Wren


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Review of The Clock  Open in new Window.
Review by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ | (4.0)
Hey, your piece hits hard—loneliness as a ticking clock is a powerful metaphor. I seem to remember a Twilight Zone episode or some other show like that about a similar thought. It really nails how some folks drown out the noise or lean into it, even when it’s overwhelming. The way you build up to that heavy ending is crystal in my mind. Maybe smooth out the transitions a bit and give that last line a little more to land softer. Still, it’s raw and real, and it sticks with you. Please increase the font sizing, and line spacing, the font's very small and a chore to read after a long day of writing here in the forest. I’m giving you a 4 out of 5. It’s strong, it just needs a little tweaking to be perfect. Keep it up!

Noisy Wren


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Review of My Mother's Poems  Open in new Window.
for entry "Love" Open in new Window.
Review by Noisy Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (5.0)
It's a beautiful, wonderful thing you've done by posting your mother’s poetry. This is an outward sign of the Agape love she speaks of in her poem Love, It’s my favorite of hers; Giving Thanks is a close second for me. You’re a good daughter, and I applaud you. I extend my blessings to you, sister, as you have honored her, fulfilling the commandment of YAHU, our Father in Heaven. HalleluYAH.

Blessings,
Noisy Wren


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