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Showing posts with label creativity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label creativity. Show all posts

Saturday, January 24, 2026

A Poet Challenges AI to a Duel


As a poet and writer for my entire adult life (and lately, a student of arti), I’ve viewed Artificial Intelligence (AI) as a threat to human creativity (dare I say, human existence.)


Until today, I hadn’t sought help from artificial sources, but I was curious to see how AI would respond to one of my poems. So, for the test case, I picked an inspirational poem that’s received positive reader-responses.

 

Wait!


Wait for God

to respond.

He hears.

He turns toward His crying child.

He reaches down into your clay crib

and brings you up, high,

high,

into His bosom.

He sets you on His shoulder.

He jostles you on His knee.

And when you're comforted and quiet,

He holds you closely

and teaches you to speak,

to pray.

 

Here’s the same poem, rewritten with Artificial Intelligence (AI.)

 

Wait!


Hold in hope,

for God's reply.

He listens.

His heart turns to His tender child.

He leans down into your fragile soul

and lifts you up, soaring,

soaring,

into His warm embrace.

He carries you upon His back.

He gently sways you on His arm.

And when you're at peace and silent,

He whispers close,

teaching you to speak,

to pray.

 

As you reread both versions, ask yourself:


Is the AI version an improvement?

Does it sound poetic as you read it aloud?

Is a crying child the same as a tender child?

Which is easier to envision – a fragile soul or a clay crib?

Have you ever seen parents carry young children on their shoulders? Is that the same imagery or the same feeling a child might get when carried in a backpack?

If you jostle a young child on your knee does that equate to gently swaying a baby on your arm?


My point is that when AI took over, it instantaneously changed the imagery, lost the poetic rhythm, and produced a sugary version that failed to create anything fresh or new. Now I cannot speak for technical writings, data summaries, or prose in general, but it would seem that poets who take their work seriously have nothing to fear.


If we give our poems the time they deserve to reveal something new to us and our readers and/or if we find fresh ways to express our thoughts and feelings (neither of which AI possesses) poets, writers, musicians, artists, and human beings of all ages will, Lord willing, remain irreplaceable.

 

Mary Harwell Sayler


"Wait" (my version, not AI) was previously published in the Explorer, Letters to a Priest Anthology, and book A Gathering of Poems.

 

Tuesday, November 18, 2025

Poems for Children

 

Regardless of the age of your readers, poetry techniques generally apply. When you write or select poems to read to children, consider these additional considerations with some examples I've written to illustrate:


Children often like cheery poems such as this haiku.


Autumn air creates
wispy streamers of white clouds
like strings from a kite.


Children like poems that express their feelings such as fear.


When thunder rumbles,
I scramble under my bed
and cover my head.


Nature poems help children enjoy the natural world.


Uncut grass tickles
the tummy of a squirrel.
He leaps like a deer.


Children like poems reflecting their experiences such as a pillow fight or a flannel board!


Pillows fill the sky –
Waiting to be tossed around.
That’s how angels fight!

Someone tossed cotton
balls against a blue flannel
sky! See how they stick!

 

Children enjoy word games and puzzles.

Two months sound airy.
Three cool months end in embers.
Most months stop on “Y?”

“Three Clichés in Three Lines”

Night: On the window
frog Prince Elmer sticks like gum,
waiting for a kiss.

 

Playful poems appeal to kids and also help them learn.


Hey, Magellan!
What’ you smelling?
Did you sniff the sea?
You found the Pacific!
Oh, how terrific!
Now you’ve made history!

“Starting an Alphabet Poem in All Caps”

A = Side view of a roof or a swing set in the park.

B = Owl eyes staring sideways in a cartoon in the dark.

C = Pour that much into my cup and please add nothing more.

D = This whitener made my teeth so bright, I'm giggling on the floor.

 

That last poem came from my book The ABC’s of Poetry: A Dictionary for Children and for Fun,  which, according to my research, is the only poetry dictionary for kids out there. In this tech-oriented society, creative arts are needed more than ever!

Children are meant to be creative!

And it’s up to us to encourage that creativity. For example, you might order poetry books as Christmas gifts for classrooms, creative kids, or poets of all ages. They might also welcome The ABC's of Poetry: A Dictionary for Children and for Fun. To find out more, visit my previous blog post about the poetry dictionary, which includes its Introduction page and several examples from the book.

 

Mary Harwell Sayler

 

 

Saturday, March 23, 2024

The ABC's of Poetry: A Dictionary for Children and for Fun

  

[From the Introduction to The ABC’s of Poetry: A Dictionary for Children and for Fun]

Poetry and young people make great friends! Even the youngest child responds to voice, tone, and musicality, delighting in the catchy sounds of rhyme, rhythm, and refrain. As language skills develop, most children also find it's fun to play with words, and poetry lets people of all ages do just that.

To help young readers easily explore the many sides of poetry, this book has easy-to-find-entries, arranged alphabetically. Each A-Z topic includes a pronunciation guide and a brief definition with poetic examples from the works of present-day poets or the public domain. To encourage readers to find more info on unfamiliar terms, small caps in the text point to a related topic or a poetic technique covered somewhere else in the book.

At first one topic may seem harder than another, but most can be understood, enjoyed, and practiced by elementary or middle grade school students in a classroom or home alone on their own.

Besides helping young readers to explore poetry, this book aims to aid lively discussions with your students, children, or neighbor kids. As the text guides this timeless adventure into language, the classics might get clearer, new poems get written, and young artistry get ready to bud! Anything can happen, so don't be surprised if someone you know falls in love with poetry. I did as a young child, and, oh, how I wish I’d had this book waiting for me – as poets of all ages now do, thanks to you!

[Examples of entries]

accent   [Pronounced ACK-sent.] In any language, people place an accent on syllables as they speak. For example, the word, "accent," has an accent or stress on the first syllable but not the second. The pronunciation guide beside each word in a dictionary shows you where the accent goes. That information helps you to speak correctly. It helps you to write poetry too. How? An accent gives a word its beat. Combined with other words on a line, this brings rhythm to your poem. In fact, a big difference between poetry and other types of writing is that a poem usually has more accents, which makes more rhythm on each line.

beat   [Rhymes with eat – sweet!] A healthy heart goes tha-THUMP/ tha-THUMP. That beat is good to hear! Poets who want that rhythm use iambs in their poems.

Like a tha-THUMP, an iamb has two syllables. The first syllable has no accent. The second one does. Put several iambs together, and the beat sounds like a heart. You can clap your hands and tap your foot to the beat. But it also sounds like a nursery rhyme! So most poets will change the beat a little bit.

cadence   [Pronounced KAY-dense.] As you talk, your voice goes up and down. Some words sound soft. Some sing. Some have a strong beat. In poems the beat makes a kind of music. You can hear it in the Bible. You can hear it in free verse. You can hear it as people talk.

Poems with rhyme have cadence too. But rhymes can get loud! Cadence is easier to hear if words do not rhyme.

clerihew   [Pronounced KLURR-eh-HUE.] This humorous verse has two couplets of two lines each. The couplets rhyme in a pattern or a rhyme  scheme of aabb. That means lines one and two make rhyme A. Lines three and four make rhyme B.

The first rhyme includes the name of a person. Often well-known, that name makes an end-rhyme for one of the first two lines.

To write a clerihew, put yourself into it! Think of words that rhyme with your first or last name. Then say something funny about yourself. For example, a name that sounds like "sailor" might make you think of someone who loves to be at sea. Not me!

Mary Sayler

will merrily say her

stomach waves with motion,

sailing on the ocean.

iambic pentameter   [Pronounced i-AM-bick pen-TAM-uh-ter.]  In accentual syllabic verse, any five feet on a line make pentameter. If three or more of those feet are iambs, you have iambic pentameter. If all five feet are iambs, you have ten syllables on a line.

The beat then sounds like this:

ta-TUM/ ta-TUM/ ta- TUM/ ta-TUM/ ta-TUM.

Say ta-TUM aloud five times. Of course, it's silly, but here's the thing: Once you hear that cadence coming into a poem, you'll know iambic pentameter by the sound of its footsteps.

syllabic verse   [Pronounced suh-LAB-ick.] For this type of poem, count the number of syllables you place on each line. Some poets use a form with a particular number of syllables. For example, haiku has a count of 5, 7, 5 syllables on three lines. A cinquain has 2, 4, 6, 8, 2 syllables on five lines. Follow those patterns. Or design your own. Your syllabic verse can have any number of syllables you choose. That number can change from line to line or stay the same.

tongue twister   A tongue twister is alliteration  gone wild! You can write one with vowels. But consonants work better. They get loud! For this example, I used the consonant, "r."

 

Rory writes riddles really well.

Ruby raps rhyme and rhythm.

Ruby writes rap and rhythmic rhymes.

Rory fiddles with riddles.

Read fast. Do the R's trip your tongue? That's half the fun of a tongue twister. The other half comes from playing with sounds. Be silly! Tongue twisters make sense of nonsense!  For example, "Suzy sells sea shells by the sea shore." That's funny when you think about it. Why sell sea shells where people find them, free?

vowel   [Rhymes with towel.]  The letters a, e, i, o, u, and, sometimes, y, make vowels. Every other letter in the alphabet is a consonant. In English, you need at least one vowel per word. If you repeat the same vowel sounds on a line of poetry, you get assonance.

This brings a sound echo that's quieter than consonance. To hear this for yourself, read aloud the tongue twister entry. Then meet me back here and say: "Ah!" Eh? I? Oh! You! Why? Heed the soft voice of vowels. That's Y.

For more fun with poems, I hope you'll order The ABC's of Poetry: A Dictionary for Children and for Fun - and give it a starry review! Thanks and blessings.

Mary Harwell Sayler

 

 

Thursday, November 4, 2021

How can a poem have texture?

 

When I think of texture, I think of cable-knit wool sweaters, beach sand, seashells, pine needles, corduroy – all touchable and recognizable by our fingertips. Obviously, we can’t do that with poetry, so how can we give our poems texture?

A definition might help. According to poets who know about such matters, texture can include figurative language (metaphor, simile, etc.) and rhyme or rhythm (musicality.)

To give you an example, let’s look at the well-textured opening of this famous poem that most of us studied in high school but didn’t have a clue about what it mean until now:

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

by T. S. ELIOT

 

Let us go then, you and I,

When the evening is spread out against the sky

Like a patient etherized upon a table;

Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,

The muttering retreats

Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels

And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

Of insidious intent….

Read that verse aloud to get the full impact of its texture and beauty. Then read aloud this bare-bones version, picked clean of the good stuff:

Let us go,        

When evening is spread against sky

Like a patient on a table;

Let us go, through streets,

The retreats

Of nights in hotels

And restaurants:

Streets

Of intent….

See? Hear? Poems need more than flat sentences and totally understandable statements. They need texture – something to alert or even disturb the wandering mind.

This week, I’ve been reading a wonderful book, Painting Abstracts, by Rolina van Vliet. She talks about visual art, of course, but her definition, “What is texture?” helped me to understand more in relation to poetry:

By texture we mean all the effects which disturb and penetrate the smooth… surface. It is the varied layers we use to construct our work…. It is how we vary the surface area using irregularities, emphases, rhythms, height, differences or roughness. Texture is a very strong artistic element….”

The author-artist goes on to list some of the things texture can accomplish:

  • activates imagination, creativity and expression
  • initiates experimentation and discovery
  • stimulates the discovery of one’s own imagery, our artistic vocabulary
  • lead to unexpected, interesting and surprising effects
  • ensures variation, contrast, emphasis and dynamics

and more – always more as you revise your poems, play with lines, and experiment with the sounds and meanings of words.

 

©2021, Mary Sayler, poet-writer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Saturday, October 2, 2021

How Haiku Helps

 

Reading and writing haiku, senryu, and other mini-poems help us to see more detail and say more in fewer words. Why should this matter to poets and writers?

 

Brevity

 

Many of the poems posted on the Internet go on and on, like a first draft that was never read aloud, reconsidered, or revised. With just a little more wait-time allowed after writing and just a little more listening time allowed to evaluate the sound echoes, rhythm, and musicality, each poem can go from “okay” to “good” or “good” to “well-done.”

 

Haiku, senryu, and other mini-poems remind us to be brief.

 

Clarity

 

Lengthy poems often have overlapping pictures with no clear focus. This can happen by mixing metaphors, but also because the poem has no clear direction. That’s fine in a first draft, but after letting a poem sit for a while before coming back to revise, poets are more apt to see what they and the poem are trying to say.

 

Haiku, senryu, and other mini-poems call on the clarity of a well-taken photograph or an artist’s quick sketch.

 

Beauty

 

Haiku, senryu, and other mini-poems frequently rely on a beautiful sight or insight (preferably both!)

 

This awareness of a fleeting thought, moment, or scene causes us to welcome the unexpected, be alert for the exquisite, be attentive to the profound, and be appreciative of our environment.

 

Other Features

 

Haiku, senryu, and other mini-poems are so transportable! They encourage us to keep a notebook handy.

 

These little forms help us to break free of rhymes that quickly close down thought, originality, and natural-sounding language. Also, by focusing on rhyming words, we might overlook other poetic factors, waiting to reveal themselves.

 

When we give ourselves and our poems over to the traditional 5/7/5 syllables in the three lines of haiku or senryu, we begin to think in form. If we prefer 2/4/2 or 3/4/3 or other syllabic count, that works too. Regardless, we’ll eventually be apt to count out those syllables on our fingers, activating kinetic memory, exercising creativity, and becoming more aware of the poetic moments in our lives.

 

 

©2021, Mary Sayler, poet-writer

 

 

 

 


Wednesday, March 7, 2018

Painting poems with light and shadow


Where would a painting be without light, shadow, color? An artist must study, practice, and experiment to develop a unique and effective use of those elements of art.

Not surprisingly, a unique, effectively written poem requires something similar. The words of an overly introspective poet, for example, might come across as dark enough to lead readers down a black hole. A socially-sensitive poet aggravated by political debates or moral dilemmas might come across as too heavy-handed for readers to escape the wrath.

Let there be light!

Levity in poetry appeals to most readers, but with or without humor, a light touch often engages people more than a lengthy monologue.

Let there be shadow.

Glare brings discomfort, and too much light can blind. Various degrees of shading will tone down the light whether in a personal confession or a realistic suggestion of the dark surrounding us. Such tones of “we’re all in this together” will enable readers to relate and integrate the poem into their lives.

Let there be color.


A fresh image or exquisite use of language adds color to a poem - something readers can sense and see. Similes comparing this to that or metaphors saying “this IS that” help readers to experience what we’re trying to convey.

Let there be brevity.

As the old adage says, a picture is worth a thousand words, so the more you focus on helping your readers picture your poem, the less words you’ll need. Poems with active verbs and easy-to-picture nouns need fewer words too.

Mary Harwell Sayler, ©2018, poet-writer 

Friday, February 9, 2018

What draws you to write poems?


As a kid, I used to draw faces. The similarities and dissimilarities between us make a fascinating mix we could observe forever and still find something unique. Now, as a poet-writer in all genres, I seldom draw anything, but I continue to be drawn to people and the human and spiritual natures that connect us and yet differ too.

Take, for example, the general, skeletal outline we share. Some bones seem shortened, some elongated, some sturdy, some rather frail. Regardless, we each have a skeleton wrapped in us.

Or take our eyes. Some seem as open to fresh air as windows on an afternoon in Spring, while others seem unfathomable or (shudder) unlit. Nevertheless, we're each meant to have eyes.

And what about our poetic interests? Children like to experiment, play, and discover, but people who lose those qualities of wonder may be less apt to investigate new territories or develop creativity.

To be honest, I didn’t think about any of those things before writing “Adult Coloring Book.” Instead, the poem rose to the surface for me to write down and, only later, invite me to explore my ongoing interest in “you,” “them,” and (my favorite) “us.”


Adult Coloring Book

The people in these poems are void
of pigment – transparent but for bones
of chalk, Swiss cheese, or granite.

Sometimes they look at us with eyes
cat-colored by the sun but never sky
or tree bark or lumps of unlit coal.

Their hands weave lace from sea foam
and sew dandelions around our souls.

They stitch together words in folds
of scripture, ready to read us, ready
to color us whole.


By Mary Harwell Sayler, ©2017, from poetry book Lost in Faith

Lost in Faith





Monday, March 17, 2014

Review: Songs from a Wild Place by Jason Kirkey


In Songs from a Wild Place, poet Jason Kirkey dedicates the book “To anyone who ever thought they could change the world with their art” then proceeds to the first poem “Silence” where “this life is not yet spoken;/ it cannot hear itself/ or the melody around it/ which sings of all the/ unbidden lyrics/ raging in its heart.”

Not rage, however, but wonder asks “Who is the Poet? Who is the Pen?” in a poem by that title where “Anything can happen in the bare lines/ stretched before us” as we keep on “listening and faithfully writing what we hear.”

Seeking and finding inspiration “Near the center of a land that/ I have known,” the poem “Self Portrait” proclaims our acceptance in a vastness where “I could still claim,/ if nothing else,/ this breathing as my own.”

And so as we, like the poet, give ourselves over to poetry and that “Wonder at the Edge of Morning,” we begin to “emerge from the dark,/ the invisible world slipping from our shoulders” to find “waking is an art of wonder;/ the mastery in taking the first/ pure note of the day, and stretching/ it across the measure of all the hours” as each day we awaken to new life, new resources of time and energy, new opportunities, new hopes and visions and songs.

“When Lightning Strikes the Heart,” however, “there is no telling what/ dark storm will take…” us, “turning us toward the/ life we have avoided.” But then, isn’t that the risk we take as poets and artists in search of honesty and truths in need of telling?

As a poet and editor-publisher of Hiraeth Press, Jason Kirkey understands the cost of creativity as revealed in “Canto III: Descent to Hades,” which begins with the haunting line, “There will be no sky tonight.” Later the poem cautions, “if you are afraid then turn your eyes/ not away, but towards –/ compassion is the heart of tension.” And, in “Canto IV: Contradiction, Beauty,” the poem exhorts us with these words, “If you have healed yourself/ then you must heal the world.”

Nevertheless, the “Song of the Broken” cautions us about our “need/ to keep plunging in desperate/ prayer into the dark waters” of our wounds where “the scars will not heal – / shouldn’t,/ they’re your voice and honor,/ the ground from which you rose.”

This openness to the poem, this vulnerability to our art continues in “The Mountain of No-Self,” asking, “What faith can we find in the always changing world?/ What safety? What presence? None without risk!/ Abandon safety. Come dance on the mountains.”

Despite the risks and chancy moments when, as poets or artists, we occasionally veer too near the edge of despair, “July Leaves” leaves us with the initial need for silence – that quiet space in which to process our lives and art, saying, “If you would speak, then meditate/…following the breath to its center/ and there to find the waiting pearl of some/ invisible and luminous strand that/ doesn’t want your name.”

In a literary terrain where poets and writers are constantly told to market themselves and establish a brand, Songs from a Wild Place has none of that. Instead, this highly recommend book ends with a call to see a large view of ourselves and the work we’ve been given, leaving us with this word: “If you would meditate, then speak;/ if you would speak then know that the sound/ of your breathing passed through the pure/ silence of your body, and all the music that follows/ is the freedom that we were born for./ The air is already rushing in to fill you./ What is the beauty that you will sing?”

© 2014, Mary Harwell Sayler


Songs from a Wild Place, paperback