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Hi there. Can anyone tell me, if I post a poem on here for critique, can anyone take what I've written and use it as their own?

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Legally or technically?

Technically yes. Which is why some people feel uncomfortable posting their work online in places like this in full.

If you're talking about something you'd consider submitting for pay, I'd be very careful about it. Less because of worries of copiers and more because of worries of chasing off agents or publishers. I know books better than poetry, but I know agents will shy away from something that's published free online, or something that's been published independently and sold poorly. That's why I'd be hesitant to post anything fully polished and revised here (and why I had a novel-length story I'd drafted on Gaia over a decade ago removed).

Someone more familiar with poetry might be better able to go over pros and cons with you. If you're still honing your skills, I don't think I'd worry much. Posting online is a good way to get feedback and get better at your work. But I haven't stepped foot in poetry since 2010 and I have no idea how useful the critiques they give out currently are.
marcworr
Hi there. Can anyone tell me, if I post a poem on here for critique, can anyone take what I've written and use it as their own?


Can they legally use your work without permission? No.

Can they still copy and paste it from a forum thread and use it secretly? It can happen. There's always those kinds of risk when posting on the internet, especially a public forum, but the chances of someone being immoral and desperate enough to claim non-professional work as their own is pretty low. But even so, there are whole sites devoted to looking for plagiarism (how do you think teachers know when students turn in an honest research paper?) so you can always check every now and then to make sure no one is using your work online.
Thank you to the 2 people who replied with some information to my query (terradi and Kairi Nightingale).
I really don't think anyone would want to reuse my words anyway, my poem is probably really bad.
When I'm going through a bit of grief I often just put pen to paper and see what comes out. Yesterday I wrote some stuff and for some reason decided I'd like to share it. So here goes, I'll write half of my poem - I don't even know if you'd call it a poem, or what you'd actually call it - call it crap if you think.
I tend to have a thought, mostly deep and meaningful, and try to put it in words, or a sequence, that often comes out in a bit of a corny rhyme. But each line has an underlining meaning, or question; which is the real sustenance of the poem, not really the written words themselves. I hope some one gets it and the words aren't too illusory.
If anyone out there can be bothered to read it and even to let me know what they think about it I'd be happy, no matter what peoples thoughts on it are.
I probably should change the title of the post to 'critique please' or something similar. I'm not sure how to do that, or even if you can. Please advise if you know. Thank you.


Born

The joy we feel
Need to procreate
Such is the warmth
We’re here to create

Feelings so special
With partner of thee
Let’s make, set free
Spirits journey to be

Natures labour
Courtesy of our saviour
Bear gift of light
Such delight

Kick and squirm
Angles lungs burn
That first breath we all bare
Liquid to air

The passage to breath
The spirit create
When did it start
From its fate of late

Brand new
Or just passing through
Seed of evolution
Or karma revolution

Religions dictate
Or try to decipher
The miracle that lands
Who dealt the hand

God is there
Or simply a spirit laid bare
Either way
Purity is in the hay

So why the need to propagate
A child rate
Its will is to decide
Its own fate

Prejudice is not born
Has no ideology sworn
How does it creep into our state, make us hate
Drop bombs of late

Is it we’re here
A short passage in time
Or the journey continuous
Enlightenment thine

Budda, Shiva, Mohammad, JC
Can you see them squabbling up high
Like us at the sea
I don’t think we carried out their recordings like meant to be

Should a story we cannot confirm
Make us judge another we consider infirm
Why we always torn
Feel the need for scorn

We’ve been given the gift in our hand
Like trying to hold sand
Through our fingers we let slip
The beauty we all can grip

.............................................................

Cheers, m

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