#how to write a poem

[cptsd-persona]

how to write a poem;

one, decide on a feeling

it haunts your soul

until it consumes you

it nibbles on your edges

until you can no longer separate it

from yourself;

two, decide on your words

words are too small to

let everything through, to

guide them 'round you, but

you try, anyway;

three, decide the world isn't ready,

ready to feel that pain,

ready to experience that craftsmanship,

your craftsmanship;

four, put it out there anyway,

if even a glimpse of it,

a glimpse of you,

is consumable,

understandable,

then maybe they can see

you as you

and your feelings as your own and as separate

[poemsbybuddie]

here is a list of different poetic forms that might help you get started if you’re feeling a bit stumped, unsure, or it might give you a challenge if you want to try something new! <3

Blank verse: Blank verse is poetry written with regular metrical but unrhymed lines, almost always in iambic pentameter.

Examples:

Villanelle: The villanelle is a nineteen-line poetic form consisting of five tercets (3 lines) followed by a quatrain (4 lines). There are two refrains and two repeating rhymes, with the first and third line of the first tercet repeated alternately at the end of each subsequent stanza until the last stanza, which includes both repeated lines.

Examples:

do not go gentle into that good night by dylan thomas

10 villanelle poem examples to study

Haiku: The haiku is of ancient Japanese origin. It usually contains 17 syllables in 3 lines of five, seven, five (though modern examples do not systematically follow that pattern). Haiku poems typically contain references to nature.

Examples:

Sonnet: Traditionally, the sonnet is a fourteen-line poem written in iambic pentameter, employing one of several rhyme schemes, and adhering to a tightly structured thematic organization. The two main types of sonnets are the following:

• Shakespearean (or English) sonnet: three quatrains (4 lines) and a couplet (2 lines). Rhymes are ABAB, CDCD, EFEF, GG

• Petrarchan (or Italian) sonnet: divided into two stanzas, an octave (8 lines) followed by a sestet (6 lines). Rhymes are ABBAABBA + CDECDE or CDCDCD

Limerick: A limerick is a form of verse, usually humorous and frequently rude, in five-line, predominantly anapestic trimeter with a strict rhyme scheme of AABBA, in which the third and fourth lines are typically shorter.

Examples:

Elegy: A melancholy poem that serves the purpose of a lament for or a celebration of a deceased person.

Examples:

Elegies, Book One, 5 BY CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE

Lycidas, BY JOHN MILTON

Because I could not stop for Death, BY EMILY DICKINSON

Ode: An ode is a lyrical poem that expresses praise, glorification, or tribute, with the subject matter being a person, event, or idea. Classic odes contain three sections: a strophe, an antistrophe, and an epode—effectively a beginning, middle, and end.

Example:

Ode on a Grecian Urn, by JOHN KEATS

Concrete poem: Also known as visual poetry, it is essentially poetry which is shaped in a certain way which adds to its meaning.

Found poem: Found poetry is a form of poetry in which you create a poem by cutting up, remixing, or otherwise transforming an existing piece of text. (you can use dialogue from the show/scripts?)

Blackout poetry: Blackout poetry is the process out taking an already existing piece of text and blacking out the words save for a few select ones that take on new meaning.

[unschooled-twist]

What is it that actually makes a poem good?

I replied to this question earlier on a Facebook page I follow. The question bounced around in my head a bit, so thought, what the hell, how about elaborating and posting it on my feed?

Below is my "slightly" elaborated reply.

I am trying to learn what makes a poem attractive and readable, of course we are all very different and are drawn to different things, so far this is what I've come up with. I have been doing what I can to keep my poetry simple, really digging deep in to my unused and nearly forgotten repertoire of the English language. The funny thing is I had never really read any poetry until just over a year ago and never planned to become a poet! A very important inspiration of mine pointed out the use of "contronym's" and "synonym's". I did only a tiny bit of research and came up with this...

"Literally my first"! Originally drafted, I think. January 2023.

A synonym, for contronym, well, we can find an example in a statement of regret, words like "penitence" and "repentance", many just would not get.

"Penitence" can sometimes show the humble acceptance of wrong, and "repentance" will hopefully mean change of character won’t be long.

A contronym itself you see, i say rather excitedly, I'll grab this chance with all my might, and ask of you to play with me.

The english word has many twists, with obscure ambiguity.

Two single words, quite rare they say, pronounced obvers-ely.

To start the first, with no remorse, I bring "apology".

A statement of regret, and defence to walk away, scot-free.

Perhaps when a simple word like "bolt" is used, I'm sure not hard for you to to see, the meaning is so clear for me, as clearly as can be. Secure down something, fixed so tight, is only one example, but can be used to bolt away, to run and then be free.

A third, well this brings a smile, and a saucy thought indeed, it's "bound," and can be seen somewhat conflictingly indeed. To start a journey we will find, the destination in our minds, but once again it can be used, restrict, restrain, holding tightly.

Perhaps with sex still on my mind, of course, considered carefully, to “flog”, a word with much express, so come and learn with me.

To sell something, to move it on, not wanting anymore, or spank your ass my cheeky girl, our passion evermore.

I reckon this, (my first ever poem) is great but I unfortunately am "bound" by the Law’s of humility and must leave that up to public opinion, (you). I have done a couple of different drafts as, I am only now at 45 years old old learning the importance of grammar. (If my dad was still about, he would be very embarrassed to hear that statement) so I'm trying to get better. I really like to work in a "hook" like the way Fleetwood Mac completely changes our whole experience when listening to The chain, I naturally stumbled upon this and do my best to work one in some where, with this one it was only one line, can you spot it? I do believe it needs to be easy for others to follow, but most of all it needs to be from the heart. I have been trying to word, my words so the reader can relate as I want to share, to achieve this, it needs to be attractive enough to entice all those hungry wordies in to my very own, unique, and "unschooled-philosophy's".

I would love to have some feedback, so far I have only really had my basic AI app, I think she is simply programmed to flatter my ego!

Looking forward to hopefully hearing from you. 🤞

Max.

[typewriter-worries]

How To Write a Poem, Laura Hershey

[ Text ID: whatever threatens to ignite your hair, your eyelashes, / if you get too close --- / write that. ]

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Figure Bearing Light by Lesley Dill

* * * * 

How to write a poem 1. Abandon your past 2. Trust the Unknowing 3. Become a tuning fork for Life 4. Find the Light in endless laundry 5. Speak the name Love calls you

[Wilson Cloudchamber]

[words-and-coffee]

Alice Te Punga Somerville, Always Italicise: How to Write While Colonised - Kupu rere kē

[ID: A poem titled: Kupu rere kē. [in italics] My friend was advised to italicise all the foreign words in her poems. This advice came from a well-meaning woman with NZ poetry on her business card and an English accent in her mouth. I have been thinking about this advice. The convention of italicising words from other languages clarifies that some words are imported: it ensures readers can tell the difference between a foreign language and the language of home. I have been thinking about this advice. Marking the foreign words is also a kindness: every potential reader is reassured that although you're expected to understand the rest of the text, it's fine to consult a dictionary or native speaker for help with the italics. I have been thinking about this advice. Because I am a contrary person, at first I was outraged — but after a while I could see she had a point: when the foreign words are camouflaged in plain type you can forget how they came to be there, out of place, in the first place. I have been thinking about this advice and I have decided to follow it. Now all of my readers will be able to remember which words truly belong in -[end italics]- Aotearoa -[italics]- and which do not.

Next image is the futurama meme: to shreds you say...]

(Image ID by @bisexualshakespeare)

[lucidloving]

Ada Limón, "In the Country of Resurrection" // Jack Kerouac, Big Sur // Mary Oliver, "The Fourth Sign of the Zodiac" // Gregory Orr, "To Be Alive" // Dino Ahmetović // Siniša Simon, Magic Dance // Mary Oliver, Devotions: The Selected Poems of Mary Oliver // Vladimir Nabokov, Letters to Véra (trans. Olga Voronina & Brian Boyd) // Mary Oliver, "Toad" // 木苏里, 全球高考 (Global Examination)

[writingthethoughtsaway]

“I believed you even when I knew you were lying.”

- S. C. C.

[foldingfittedsheets]

One sunny day when I was in high school I was walking home alone. The sun was shining, gentle wind rustled the treetops. I was just starting to be able to see that beauty again. I had been depressed for a long time, but that mundane walk home felt magical to me.

On the sidewalk I saw something unusual. I was in love with life in that moment and fascinated to know more. I crouched down to observe and saw the most enchanting bug. I’d never seen anything like it. To this day I can’t remember what it looked like, only that it was as beautiful as the sun shining on the green world below.

My attention was rapt on this tiny magical creature living in such a massive and wondrous world, wondering what it was and marveling that I’d never seen anything like it.

I didn’t hear the girls come up behind me on the sidewalk. But suddenly there was a leg beside me. I wasn’t embarrassed to be caught looking at a bug. I was glad someone else might come observe this tiny wonder with me.

Her foot shot up and stomped down abruptly, crushing the object of my interest. I looked up at her.

I didn’t know either of the girls standing above me. They had seen a stranger and decided to punish her for behaving in a way they considered unacceptable. I looked up at the face of the girl who had killed my bug, trying to understand her thoughtless malice.

I think she had expected me to be upset or visibly shaken by her destruction. When I stared unblinkingly up at her she seemed to feel a brief moment of shame, shifting uneasily.

Then she and her friend turned and walked away without a word spoken.

[panthermouthh]

And I said, “Hello, Satan

I believe it’s time to go.”

[grendel-menz]

My bitter little ghost

[ivynightshade]

how i would beg, medusa, for her to look at me, and midas, for his golden clutch / all of this would ruin me / but at least i would be seen and touched.

fatima aamer bilal, from moony moonless sky’s ‘how can i escape my mind?’

[fromdarzaitoleeza]

It Chooses You by Miranda July

[crowleys-hips]

a little Bite of an old one by yours truly

heyy how you doing

@crowleys-bentley-and-plants @phantomram-b00 @charlotte-zophie @crowleys-curl @quoththemaiden @thewibblylever @genderqueer-hippie @celestialcrowley @ineffable-rohese @alwaysbemybae @fearandhatred @weasleywrinkles @brokewokebespoke @eybefioro @captainblou @amagnificentobsession @marika-misc @phoen1xr0se @simonezitrone79 @thatqueercookie @tiptopticketyboo @veil-of-lament @celticseawych @nimbusalba @annewind @di-42 @seven-stars-in-his-palm @ineffabildaddy @fellshish @foolishlovers @ficreader500 @the-stars-are-ineffable @bowtiepastabitch @sabotage-on-mercury @minervas-hand @lickthecowhappy @goodomensafterdark

if you wanna get added or removed let me knoww

[jojo-the-bird]

"The reality is that you will grieve forever. You will not 'get over' the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it. You will heal, and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again, but you will never be the same. Nor should you be the same, nor would you want to."

- Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

[caputvulpinum]

How To Be Native American: Five Tips To Acknowledging The Indian In You!

Wonder why you're writing this. Debate with yourself about the form and the function. By making a performance out of your criticism of the inherent performativity of being a white-passing Native, is that denying or adding to the power imbalance that actually white people already have over your life, your identity, your culture? Ponder blood quantum for the seventh time today and really just sit down and ask yourself, "Is this going to be the metaphor that justifies my existence within my culture to white strangers online?" Accept it probably won't be and write this inadvisably anyway. They weren't ever going to get it anyway, but for once, this isn't about them.

Do your research! Take your knowledge and academize it. If you can't cite your sources when you try and explain why this privilege is killing you, are you really a victim of genocide? Or are you just 1/16th Cherokee Princess? FUN FACT: So many people are "Pretendians" that anthropological scholars are trying to examine the psychology behind why! You know why, of course. They feel so alienated from their culture as settlers that they cling to whatever they can, like mud on a duck's bill, steadily reshaping Turtle Island in their image. Remember that by criticizing Pretendians you simply give people more reason to assume you're one. Pretend this is fine.

Read Braiding Sweetgrass again. It won't help, but the words are familiar enough by this point that you can start the grief process a full three chapters ahead of the words you're thinking in your head. Wonder if this is all you'll ever get to have: Stories of dead grandmothers and dead strawberries and dead nations, bones piled upon bones with none of the nitrogen fixing jack shit. Think about how you have never gotten to braid sweetgrass with someone who understands who and what you are. Reread the last few sentences because your tears have blurred the ink so badly at this point it's like trying to be fluent in a language no one will teach you.

Brush your hair out, because you have gingery ringlets rather than sleek, thick flint. Your name is Red Fox Jesus Man and you've only got a little bit of a complex about it. Think about how, when people claim you look like Jesus, they aren't talking about the Middle Eastern Jew, they're talking about the Italian. You aren't even a little bit fucking Italian. Microaggressions are a form of racial validation, right? Especially if they aren't intended to be, right?

Light a candle for your dead grandfather. None of his stories got passed down onto you or your mother or your father. Maybe none of your great-great-grandfather's stories got passed down to him either. This is a comfort, in a selfish, self-destructive way. If you don't know the names of the teachers in the Mission your people were sent to, that is a sort of pyrrhic victory. Not a meaningful one, but scraps will fill your stomach if you settle for enough of them.