How to Make a Good Poem Better

The ease of publishing our own blogs, websites, and social media posts have encouraged many poets and writers to get their work out there for the general public and/or specialized groups to see. While this provides a welcomed outlet for self-expression, feedback from readers, promotion of a cause or mission, and the incentive to keep writing, it’s also resulted in unsubstantiated “facts,” opinions best kept to ourselves, and some really sloppy writing!

If that smushed your toes, I’m sorry about that, but I truly hope you’ll show your work respect by checking info, using good grammar, and learning to say what you want to say in a concise and winsome manner that shows an awareness of your readers. These tips for poets might help writers in all genres:

• Write as you always have. Then put the work aside and go onto another poem or project.
  
  
• When you’re pretty much forgotten what you said and how you said it, go back and read your work aloud, paying particular attention to the sounds and sense of what you’re saying.
  
  
• Pretend someone else wrote those lines! Then read them again.
   
• If anything causes you to stumble, take that as a clue to self-edit.
   
• Read the poem aloud again to hear if you repeat what you’ve said. If so, pick the best phrase or line.
  
  
• For poems longer than a dozen lines, get radical! Cut unnecessary words. Tighten the lines. Poems that go on and on usually lose their impact – and your readers!
  
  
• As you revise your work, use a light touch and save the heavy rhymes for humor. Too many rhymes jammed into a poem or repeating the same sound again and again get monotonous. Worse, such rhymes typically twist a sentence into something that makes little sense. To be blunt, they’re a way of showing off!
   
• Sometimes it helps to wean yourself from rhymes or any other technique you frequently use and write something totally different. For instance, if you’ve been writing long poems, try writing haiku or other traditional form that confines your work to a particular length.
  
  
• Read poems by other people – lots of poems! An anthology is a good place to find your soon-to-be favorite poets.
   
• Strive for excellence, and keep on writing! 

 

 

©2025, Mary Harwell Sayler

New Collected Poems of Marianne Moore

If you’ve only read later editions of poetry by Marianne Moore, you might not have read the poems that actually made her famous. We discussed this previously in my review of Observations, but basically, Miss Moore’s original work helped to create a modernist culture in poetry while earning impressive awards – from the National Book Award and Bollinger Prize to a Pulitzer. Giant names in poetry, from Elizabeth Bishop to William Carlos Williams to T.S. Eliot, applauded her work too.

Many (most?) poets would be thrilled to have such literary accolades and appreciation of their work, but apparently Miss Moore was not one of those. She continued to revise and rework her already-published and highly acclaimed poems until some might say she occasionally butchered them!

In hopes of remedying this, English professor and writer Heather Cass White undertook the massive task of trying to find the earliest versions of each poem to show the proper trajectory of Moore's work. Ironically, this collection from Farrar, Straus and Giroux, who kindly sent me a copy to review, has been entitled the New Collected Poems since Poems, Selected Poems, Collected Poems, and Complete Poems had already been taken. However, the Introduction points out, “…’selected’ is the only adjective that accurately describes any book of Moore’s work thus far produced, or any that can be produced,” since “Moore’s art has no straight path from beginning to end.”

As Professor White explains, “For Moore, the publication of a poem in a periodical, or the ordering of poems in a book, marked resting-places in her poetry’s development, not its final form.”

Having seen Miss Moore’s flamboyant personality on television, which, for years, personified the general public’s perception of poets, I wonder if her revisions were part of the act – i.e., showmanship born, not of the perfectionism that might make some of us incessantly revise our poems, but of her inclination to dazzle.

As the Introduction reminds us, the clear eye and distinctive voice of Moore’s poetry were “also part of its simultaneous ‘dazzlement,’ the poems’ sometimes overwhelming complexities of statement, form, and metaphor.” i.e., “If clarity allows us to see better, dazzlement, however exciting, may mean we can hardly see at all. It is seldom easy to say what a Moore poem as a whole is about, even when it comes with a seemingly straightforward title. Moore was serious, but also witty, and not above liking to shock her readers.”

Yes. That’s it, exactly.

At the time of Moore's writing, rhymes ending the ragged lines of her poems would have been a novelty as would her use of quotations pulled from obscure literature, magazine ads, and even information from the U.S. Department of Agriculture.

As we look at “To a Snail,” for example, notice the delayed rhyme (adorn/horn), the use of words with four or more syllables, and the quotes included:

To a Snail

If ‘compression is the first grace of style,”
you have it. Contractility is a virtue
as modesty is a virtue.
It is not the acquision of any one thing
that is able to adorn,
or the incidental quality that occurs
as a concomitant of something well said,
that we value in style,
but the principle that is hid:
in the absence of feet, “a method of conclusions”;
“a knowledge of principles,”
in the curious phenomenon of your occipital horn.

Moore’s Notes 296 . Editor’s Notes 361

To assist us in finding the eclectic sources of the poet’s quotations, this edition presents each poem followed by a page reference to Moore’s Notes and/or the Editor’s Notes at the bottom of the page. So, “To a Snail,” includes a reference to Moore’s note on page 296 and the Editor’s note on 361.

With these aids, we can find the prior publications Editor White has tracked down for us, and, if the poet made a comment about a poem, we can find that too.

For instance, “compression is the first grace of style” in Moore’s poem above is credited as a quote from Democritus, whereas she cites Duns Scotus as the original source for the phrases “method of conclusions” and “knowledge of principles.”

Since the later phrases don’t seem to warrant quotation marks today, it’s hard to know if they were fresh at the time of her writing or whether the poet was just playing with us and the literary scene. Since that scene changes drastically, you can see why a highly innovative poet might think her poems needed to do the same.

Mary Harwell Sayler, ©2017, poet-writer, reviewer

New Collected Poems, hardback



…

All Broken Up & other line breaks

One advantage of traditional forms of poetry hinges on the swing of a line. Instead of having to decide where and when to break each line of a poem, the pattern of your chosen form makes that decision for you.

For example, a sonnet written in iambic pentameter will be measured (meter) as five feet with iambs predominating. At the end of those five, the line breaks, and the next line of iambic pentameter begins with the same pattern repeated for 14 rhyming lines.

If you want to know more about the sonnet form, save this page and click the link below to an earlier post on the Poetry Editor blog. If you don't care, skip through the pink stuff!

Sonnets traditionally require poets to use rhythmic rhymes and argue nicely in fourteen lines

If you’re not sure what iambs and other poetic feet consist of but want to know, visit these discussions where I aimed to make the explanations as easy as possible.

Scan A Poem. Get The Picture.

Scan a poem. Catch the beat. Change the rhythm as you revise.

Accentual syllabic or metered verse

Unlike traditional forms of poetry with their consistent patterns, free verse is free of meter and free of other requirements, such as line length.

That sounds airy-light and, yeah, freeing, but this means you have to make a decision with every line. Sometimes that’s a hard call; sometimes not. Either way, line breaks can make or break a free verse poem.

Is this something to fret about as you write? No! Worry is more confining than any poetry pattern, so let poems flow. Then go back later to revise, breaking lines here or there or wherever your eyes and ears desire.

As you read each poem and revision aloud, keep your ear attuned to its musicality.

As you read each poem by sight, see if you find any evidence of a unique pattern to emphasize and make the poem pop.

In the following poem, for example, I played with line breaks on the word “break.” Then, during the revision process, I experimented with variations of “break” and “broke” and, mainly, had fun.

Play with words. Play around with line breaks. Try something new, and have a good time with your poems and your readers.


All Broken Up!
by Mary Harwell Sayler

Hey! What’s going on tonight?
My fingernail broke.
A bird broke into flight,
and, oh! The mirror broke!
Will it be all right?
Then someone breaks
the silence.

I went to bed closing
my eyes to these sights –
hoping and praying the breaks
might not last,
then morning broke
daybreak
into dawn-light,
and I happily hopped down to break-
fast.


©2014, Mary Harwell Sayler

…

How to improve your poems

Poetry writing often happens naturally and spontaneously. However, improvements can be made when a poem gets to sit awhile before you come back to read the lines aloud and notice what needs improvement.

The more you read poetry by other poets, the more you’ll recognize what works well and what does not. Meanwhile, you can improve your poems by asking these questions of each poem as you revise:

• Does the poem have a fresh view or insight into the theme or topic?

• Will the subject interest most people?

• Is the poem truthful and honest about its facts and feelings?

• Does the poem make refreshing use of language?

• Do the word choices have interesting connotations or echoing sounds?

• Does the poem emphasize only important words with the use of sound echoes or rhyme for special effect?

• Can any musicality be heard as you read the poem aloud?

• Does the poem use humor rather than wit and cleverness?

• Do the form, tone, and style fit the idea?

• Do the line-breaks in free verse work well, or would the poem improve if the lines were broken differently?

• Does each traditional poem fit a particular form?

• Will the length and style suit poetry journals or e-zines?

• Does the poem invite readers into an experience?

• Does the poem cause readers to think on their own, rather than telling them what and how to think?

• Does the poem offer more than readers will get in one reading, so they'll want to read it again?

• Would you like the poem a lot if someone else had written it?

If you want to write poems other people will enjoy reading, you’ll do well to study poetry forms and time-tested techniques as shown in this home study course, now available as an inexpensive, reader-friendly e-book, the Christian Poet’s Guide to Writing Poetry. And, if you have been writing poems a while or just want feedback to help you take your poems to the next level, a poetry critique will help.

© 2014, Mary Sayler


Christian Poet’s Guide to Writing Poetry, Kindle e-book



…

Drawing Lines

A poet-peer once told me that many poets who ask “What do you think about my poems?” do not actually want feedback, but a pat on the back. This came as a surprise but also explained why poets often don't want to pay even a small fee for a professional opinion. Since I want my poetry to be the very best I can offer, however, I didn't really understand what my friend was saying.

Then, recently, the publisher of my upcoming book of children’s poems liked the preliminary drawings I sent and gave me the go-ahead to sketch illustrations in pen and ink, something I always meant to do but never did. After completing a few drawings, I showed one of a cute little animal to a family member, who said, “The tail should be longer.”

Suddenly I understood! I'd wanted to hear, “Wow!” or “Nice job,” but instead I got advice. Although I felt like saying “Bummer!” I said “Okay,” then quickly went back to my desk, later realizing I'd learned two very important points:

1. Even the most helpful suggestion can sting. Eventually, I saw that, yes, I did need to elongate that little tail, which, yes, made the artwork better, so I’m thankful for that now. However, I have no plans to be a professional artist, which makes me less inclined to receive remarks I might consider a criticism.

2. Our attitude toward feedback depends on where we draw the line in our work. For example, if I see myself as a person who likes to write poems I might react negatively to suggestions and just want some praise or a hug. If, however, I see myself as a poet – or a person on the way to becoming a poet, I’ll be more apt to receive and apply helpful suggestions.

Where do you draw the line?

© 2014, Mary Sayler



Christian Poet’s Guide to Writing Poetry, Kindle e-book version of the poetry home study course Mary wrote and used for years with poets and poetry students

New Year, new poems, new vision for re-vision

The end of the year calls us to recall our past mistakes just long enough to learn from them, forgive whatever needs forgiving, and move on to the new year with fresh vision. The same might be said of poems that didn’t quite click, so before discarding them, let’s see if we can learn something from them and maybe even find new or renewed vision for re-vision.

How do we do that? How do we regain what’s needed to see or hear our poems – clearly as they are, and not as we hoped they might be?

Most likely, the strongest of your senses helped you to begin a poem in the first place, so another sense can now help you to revise. If, for instance, you have a “poetic ear,” your poems will express that natural sense of musicality or rhythmic beat. If you have an “artistic eye,” your poems may paint visual lines. If you’re a keen observer or have an analytical mind, you might find fresh comparisons in a simile, metaphor or other figure of speech. If your feelings provide your dominant sense, your expressive poems may speak to and for readers, saying what they cannot express well themselves.

Regardless which of your senses prevails, go with it. Let each poem flow to you with a new thought, musical phrase, sudden insight, fresh comparison, or whatever catches your poetic attention. Without censoring yourself, get your poem onto paper, then let it sit while something else occupies your mind.

When you return to a poem for re-vision, use another sensory connection – preferably one that’s opposite the original. For instance, if you have fluently expressed your feelings, let your mind now do most of the work as you analyze the connotations, sounds, and subtle nuances of each word in your poem. If your ear has been doing most of the poetic work, train your eyes to see what visual aids you might include.

By using one poetically attuned sense as you write a poem and another as you revise, your poetry can reach a new level of professionalism. More importantly, you may discover you connect with your readers in ways you had not imagined, for instance with humor, wordplays, sounds, insights or images that your readers will be glad to see and feel and hear.

Try these solutions too:

Read each poem or poetic text aloud.

Listen for anything that hinders the flow of sound or sense.

As you identify a problem, you will usually be able to identify a solution too, so be alert to that.

Correct any flaws, even if that means finding a new rhyme scheme for a traditional poem or recasting the lines in free verse.

Read aloud each revision.

If you’re not satisfied with the results, ask another poet with a similar level of experience to do a manuscript exchange, so you can provide each other with free feedback.

May God bless your New Year with love, joy, and poetry.

©2010-2013, Mary Harwell Sayler

…

Poetry Revision: Less can bring more to a poem

One of my favorite poems came about as a poet re-envisioned a scene he had originally tried to capture in 30 lines. Since those lines did not begin to show what he saw, he tore up the poem and, six months later, tried again. Instead of using more words, however, the poet wrote a poem of half the original length, but that version still did not show readers what he wanted them to see. Another six months went by as he looked, not for more words, but for the essence of the scene – the color, the beauty, the movement, the energy, and so, one year after he had first noticed a bouquet of lovely faces at the train station in 1911 Paris, Ezra Pound completed this poem in two exquisite lines:

In a Station of the Metro

The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals, on a wet, black bough.

Pound talks about his initial vision and his re-vision process in an essay posted on the Internet by Modern American Poetry. That webpage, which is well worth reading, also includes essays, literary criticism, and commentaries by various poets and poetry critics on the poem and the poet’s brilliant choice of words.

If you go on to read the biography of Pound located on the website, too, you might wonder why this free-spirited, free-willed, visually-oriented man became such good friends with the anxious, cerebral, musically-oriented poet T.S. Eliot. Perhaps being unlike each other drew them into an unlikely friendship as they became the ideal poet-peers for offering each other feedback on their poems.

For example, Eliot counted on Pound to say what he really thought about The Waste Land even though he pounded home the importance of being fresh and not competing with couplets that, a couple of centuries earlier, Alexander Pope had handled with greater skill!

Again, the Modern American Poetry site posts an essay discussing the revision of Eliot’s famous book-length poem The Waste Land, and larger bookstores often stock an edition of the poem that includes annotations by Ezra Pound. Studying the comments and suggestions that one brilliant poet made to another provides an excellent mini-course in revision.


© 2011, Mary Harwell Sayler
All rights reserved.


~~

National Poetry Month and the 3 Rs

NaPoMo reminds us of three R’s important to poets, not just in April but throughout the year: Reading, ‘Riting, and, you do the ‘Rithmatic to know it’s also time for Revising.

Read Poetry
To become a serious poet become a great lover of poetry.
Enjoy poems more and more as you learn how to read a poem.
Support poetry! Buy poetry books and journals.
Borrow poetry anthologies from your public library.
Study classical and contemporary poems on the Internet.
Investigate Poetry Resources in an earlier article on The Poetry Editor blog.

Write Poetry
Write a poem a day until May.
Research an interesting topic.
Remember a happy/ sad/ scary time.
Describe an event and how it made you feel.
Write a poem to recall a favorite person/ pet/ holiday.
Focus on something in your home or outside your window.
Let thoughts flow without editing, revising, or censoring yourself.
Put these poems aside.

Revise Poems
Each day of NaPoMo, revise an older poem that doesn’t seem quite finished.
Read the poem aloud. Listen for any jolts or flaws in sound or sense.
Ease the process of revising as you get a new vision for each re-vision.
Use this checklist for Editing, Revising, and Otherwise Improving Your Poems.


Have a Happy National Poetry Month! And keep the NaPoMo momentum going all year long.

(c) 2011, Mary Sayler

Righting haiku and writing syllabic verse

Writing poems usually means letting the lines flow onto a page or into a computer then going back later to revise. At that point, it usually helps to read your work aloud, listen to the poem, hear the form that seems to suit it best, then recast the words or lines until you have lively line breaks in a free verse poem or the formal form found in a heavily structured pattern such as a traditional sonnet, limerick, or villanelle.

You can revise or rework a poem to get haiku and other types of syllabic poetry too. More likely though, a poem that’s based on the number of syllables per line will start, not as you tap your foot or count feet into lines of regular meter, but as you count each syllable on your fingertips.

Take haiku, for example. To write those three lines of traditional Asian verse, you need 5 syllables on the first line, 7 on the second, and 5 on the third. Traditionally, you need to refer to some season of the year, too, touching your pen lightly to the scene you sketch, quickly and exquisitely, with your words.

Knowing the background of any type of poetry can help you to write or revise well. For instance, haiku comes from ancient cultures that developed the form as a means of entertainment at social events, so a traditionally written haiku often has the levity found in party talk.

Assuming you do not readily read Japanese or Chinese poems in their original languages, your introduction to haiku will probably come through one of the excellent translations found, many centuries later, in most bookstores today. This means, however, that poems translated from one language to another will vary in the original syllabic count. So an English version of an ancient poem, say, by Basho might have 2/4/2 syllables on their respective lines, rather than the 5/7/5 syllables the poet initially used.

Over the years, poets who write in English have varied the count of syllables and the number of lines, omitted seasonal references, handled hot and heavy subjects, and called it haiku, when they really have their own innovative verse set as a short syllabic poem. What you do is up to you, of course, and also the editors of journals or e-zines where you plan to send your haiku in hopes of getting published. Personally, though, I prefer the original 5/7/5 form because of the appealing pattern but also because, when I write haiku regularly, the words and thoughts just seem to fall into that mathematic formula or sound.

Actually, the same can be said for writing in traditional English forms that rely on, say, iambic pentameter. After a while, the lines seem to slip into your thoughts, already shaped into your chosen meter.

You can find out more about formal and informal poetic possibilities in the e-book version of the poetry home study course I wrote and used for years in working with other poets but also in the poetry dictionary e-book shown on this page too.


(c) 2011, Mary Harwell Sayler

Scan a poem. Catch the beat. Change the rhythm as you revise.

Scansion sounds scary to some poets, but scanning a poem just means seeing how to measure each line.

Across many centuries and continents, poets have found various methods of measurement such as counting syllables or accents or a combination of the two. Often, a well-tuned ear hears the beat as a poem is being written, but most of us count on fine-tuning the rhythm as we revise.

Practice will perfect the accuracy of your ear, but your eyes can also help you to catch the beat. How? As you scan a poem, you find feet to use for measuring or to discard as you would any footwear that doesn’t quite fit.

So let's get on our toes, poetically, and take a look at our feet:

In traditional, metered English verse, the most common feet come nicely shaped in pairs. With two syllables each, you find the upbeat iamb (ta-DAH), downbeat trochee (HO hum), stress-free pyrrhic (blah-blah), and double-stress spondee (ALL RIGHT!)

Once you recognize those simple two-syllable foot patterns, you’re ready to play with three-syllable feet such as the dactyl (HEAV-en-ly) and anapest (as-we-SEE.)

You might also look at those classical styles as having these designs:

Iamb = no stress then stress = _ X

Trochee = accent then no accent = X _

Pyrrhic = no stress or accent = _ _

Spondee = accent on both syllables = XX

Dactyl = accent followed by two unstressed syllables = X _ _

Anapest = two unstressed syllables ending on an accent = _ _ X

What does that info do for you? It puts your whole body to work!

Those common feet train your eyes to see what your ears hear as your mouth emphasizes each accented syllable and your hand thumps out each beat.

You then put that information to use as you revise a poem, changing words around or reworking lines until you have the number of feet needed for the particular pattern of your choice.

Say, for example, you want to write a classically patterned sonnet in iambic pentameter. To do this, you traditionally need five feet of iambs on each line:

_ X | _ X | _ X | _ X | _ X |

As you can see, the same old beat looks as boring as it sounds! So now, to help you vary the rhythm, your mind and eye can show you where to replace at least one iambic foot with a trochee or spondee. As you scan the poem and see a good spot to substitute one foot for another, you do not totally rely on your poetic ear but on other senses as well.

But what if you don’t want to write traditional metered poetry? What if you want to write free verse where line breaks make or break the poem? Will scansion help you then? It can.

Scanning the lines to find the feet (or lack thereof!) can show you where to change the beat if the rhythm seems “off” in almost any type of poem. For example, scansion can be helpful in revising a prose poem, even though your main method of measuring consists of those same little blocks or paragraphs you use in writing prose. You can also use scansion to see where the rhythm got off-beat in your free verse. For that style of poetry, most poets just keep experimenting and breaking lines in various places until they like the look and sound and feel of the poem, but scansion can help too.

Look at this line, for example, then read the words aloud:

His VOICE/ HELD SAD/ness = _ X | X X | _

See how the accents huddle together in the middle with no beat at either end? That could give you the sound effect you want, but if not, mix it up at bit. For example:

SADness/ HUGGED his/ VOICE = X _ | X _ | X

See the difference? If you read both versions aloud, you will hear a rhythmic difference too, but either way can work in a poem, depending on the sound effect you want.

Typically, a poetic ear prefers one sound or rhythm over another, but your eye can help you to discern what needs to be changed and where. So, inform all of your senses instead of relying on just one. Scan your poems. Play with meter. Order the reader-friendly e-books shown below.




(c) 2011, Mary Harwell Sayler, all rights reserved.

How do you know a poem is ready?

Knowing when you have completed your creative work is a concern encountered not only by poets but by artists, writers, composers, and chefs.

Take, for example, the now seldom fried chicken. Before the general awareness of cholesterol had seeped into our veins, a good cooker looked for a golden-brown hue, yes, and sniffed for that special yummy smell, yes, and felt with the touch of a fork or finger for a particular degree of softness, yes.

So, if you want to fry chicken in your kitchen today, those same traditional characteristics of a beautifully prepared bird will help you to know when the thing has cooked long enough.

But maybe you want more. Maybe you want a prize-winning recipe. Maybe you want deliciously fried chicken that you love and everyone else loves too.

If that’s what you want, you may need more than what you see, smell, touch, feel, or even taste, which often comes later anyway.

The unique identifier of tastefully fried chicken will usually arrive through your poetic ear. Since this may be subtle, listen carefully.

Listen for the sound of sizzle throughout the cooking process.

Get so familiar with that sound that you recognize it anywhere.

Then listen for subtle changes.

As you fry chicken, the sizzle stays about the same until the sound drops a decibel or two, and then you know it’s done.

Listen for that little sizzle of readiness in your poems. What does it sound like? A nicely done poem will sizzle with:

Tasteful subject

Fresh ingredients

Nothing artificial

Crisp detail

Hint of spice

Visually appealing presentation

Feel for reader interest

Tasty side-dishes with a sudden dash of insight

Thought-provoking layers of connotation in your word choices

Ear-pleasing sounds, echoes, and that little sizzle of readiness you will learn to recognize, yes, as you read each poem aloud



(c) 2011, Mary Harwell Sayler

Getting your poems ready for publication is like being on Dancing with the Stars

If you’ve been watching the popular television show “Dancing with the Stars,” you know that celebrities work very hard for many weeks for a chance at a trophy that only one person will take home. It’s a little like being a poet who works for weeks on one poem in hopes of getting paid with publication and a free writer’s copy of a prized journal.

Prizes change from one competition to the next. People have natural talent or they do not. Motivations vary. Nevertheless, some basic steps toward success seem to stay in place.

Whether you’re a poet or a dancer, a move toward triumph typically includes talent, determination, and these traits:

Musicality matters in poetry and in dance.

People with little ability can compensate with study, practice, and hard work.

Individuals who consistently show persistence, commitment, and an eagerness to learn from their masters will often amaze themselves and other people too.

Gorgeous costumes and patterns can add pizazz or trip you up, getting in the way of what you want to say.

Academic, athletic, social, financial, political, popular, or poetic connections can initially be useful in opening doors for you but ultimately do not matter unless you yourself connect with people, who then welcome you into their homes and want you to stay awhile.

Practice, practice, practice makes “winners” whether you win the prize or not.

If a dance routine or a route to publication does not work well, other options can be considered and choreographed to fit you.

Say, for instance, that people do not respond well to your cerebral poems. You don’t have to “dummy down,” but you do need to choreograph a connection between yourself and your readers as you revise. This might mean toning down intellectual wit and wordplays or adding a touch of humor that lightly pokes fun at yourself. Or maybe you can find a common expression that’s just short of a cliché to work into a poem as you revise.

If humor happens to be your strong suit, play it up in style. Quick! Step into the iambic and trochaic foot patterns needed to dance your way into a limerick, lively sonnet, or obsessive villanelle. Don’t look at your feet though. Look at your audience. Enjoy their enjoyment of you! Then go for a repeat performance by finding out what you do that entertains them well.

Yes, at first the expectations of your audience and the heightened awareness of your work and yourself might make you feel self-conscious or uptight, but don’t worry about it. Keep on practicing, and do not be afraid to learn!

Learn about poetry. Learn what you like and dislike. Learn about yourself.

If, for instance, you happen to be naturally good-hearted, graceful, and gorgeous in your dance, go with that lyric flow. Trust yourself to move well, but find out where your weaknesses are so you can strengthen those areas and keep your balance as you float along the stage or page.

Remember that your dance toward a published poem is not just about you and the professional editor or poetry publisher with whom you partner. The revising, the editing, the hard work of poetry is also about your audience – your readers who root for you, stay with you, and really want to see you give the performance of a life.






(c) 2010, Mary Harwell Sayler

Getting A New Vision For Your Re-Vision

Editing focuses on things like correcting mistakes, improving syntax, cutting unnecessary words, and generally preparing a poem for publication. You might do similar tasks as you revise, but revision mainly seeks to improve the literary or artistic quality of a poem. How do you do that? How do you get new vision for your re-vision?

Most likely, the strongest of your senses helped you to begin a poem in the first place, so another sense can now help you to revise. If, for instance, you have a “poetic ear,” your poems just naturally express that natural sense of musicality or rhythmic beat. If you have an “artistic eye,” your poems may paint visual lines. If you’re a keen observer or have an analytical mind, you might find fresh comparisons in a simile, metaphor or other figure of speech. If your feelings provide your dominant sense, your expressive poems may speak to and for readers, saying what they cannot express well themselves.

Regardless which of your senses prevails, go with it. Let each poem flow to you with a new thought, musical phrase, sudden insight, fresh comparison, or whatever catches your poetic attention. Without censoring yourself, get your poem onto paper, then let it sit while something else occupies your mind.

When you return to the poem for your re-vision, use another sensory connection -- preferably one that’s opposite the original. For instance, if you have fluently expressed your feelings, let your mind now do most of the work as you analyze the connotations, sounds, and subtle nuances of each word in your poem. If your ear has been doing most of the poetic work, train your eyes to see what visual aids you might include.

By using one poetically attuned sense as you write a poem and another as you revise, your poetry can reach a new level of professionalism. More importantly, you may discover you connect with your readers in ways you had not imagined, for instance with humor, wordplays, sounds, insights or images that your readers will be glad to see and feel and hear.

Try these solutions too:

Read each poem or poetic text aloud.

Listen for anything that hinders the flow of sound or sense.

As you identify a problem, you will usually be able to identify a solution too, so be alert to that.

Correct any flaws, even if that means finding a new rhyme scheme for a traditional poem or recasting the lines in free verse.

Read aloud each revision.

If you’re not satisfied with the results, ask another poet with a similar level of experience to do a manuscript exchange, so you can provide each other with free feedback.

Mary Sayler, poet-writer

The Perfectly Imperfect Poem

After our discussion about the mistakes in this year’s entries for the poetry contest I judge, I’ve been busily at work, revising and arranging my own poems to enter in a couple of chapbook contests and one book competition. Hopefully, my judging poems by other people has helped me to assess my own poems more objectively, but time, notification of awards (or not!), and acceptance for publication (or not!) will tell.

Meanwhile, here's a list of some remaining flaws. Besides the previously listed character traits, the perfectly imperfect poem:

States the obvious.

Says nothing fresh, insightful, imaginative, interesting, or new.

Relies on clichés that delighted readers a century or ten ago.

Includes archaic words no longer in general use.

Sounds like a private poem that would not mean anything to anyone, much less total strangers. Indeed, the private poem does not seem to be aware that readers even exist.

Uses repetition ineffectively, emphasizing thoughts or phrases that do not warrant headlines or neon lights.

Goes on and on, often repeating what’s been said and said.

Or compresses too tightly, omitting articles and other business words that help people to communicate and make sense.

Bores readers with text as flat as pressed flower in a book.

Makes imprecise statements or assumptions that are not true or emotional statements that do not ring true.

Gives advice no one asked for or wanted to receive.

Has no sense of humor, grammar, mystery, or musicality.

Bashes men. Puts down women. Shows big signs of bigotry.

Uses crude or vulgar language that adds nothing but bad taste.

Gets locked into a rhyme pattern that forces the use of poor syntax or that emphasizes words like “of” which just cannot carry well the weight of rhyme.

Tries to be imaginative yet shows no sign of research or the true powers of observation that every poet truly has.

Every poet also has at least one poem with at least one of the problems above, but rejoice! Once you identify a problem, the solution becomes clear.

Mary Sayler, poet-writer

Going Around An Imperfect Poem

For several years I’ve judged the poems entered in an international writing competition, and each year I’ve noticed similar mistakes spinning around the global theater. Since I’ve learned a lot from this recurring cycle of flaws and errors, I thought you might too, so here’s a list of things to avoid – not as you write in that first whirlwind of creativity, but as you stop to catch your breath, clear your head, and revise.

The Perfectly Imperfect Poem

Borders on the sentimental: Uses saccharine phrases or words like tears, heart, share, cry, and dear ole something or other. This category also includes excessive enthusiasm about a spring flower or other subject that might thrill a young tot.

Makes incredible statements: Often flatly stated, these lines sermonize, spout opinions as fact, make unsubstantiated claims, or come up with strange comparisons that do not hum true. Sometimes the poet goes beyond this in what might be an effort to appear wise but comes across as pseudo-wisdom or (such a lovely-sounding word) pomposity.

Gives unasked-for advice: Similar to sermonizing, this flaw takes on a bombastic tone or lays out guilt trips that drive people away. Venting, spewing, and biting may also occur.

Puts people down as a group rather than addressing that one lousy individual to whom the poem could be written: Everyone who’s politically correct knows you may not speak ill of women, other cultures, other races, and other religions, but male-bashing is equally offensive to most guys and some dolls. It’s also not okay to put down Christians and Christianity even though that’s presently the rage, whereas the one you actually want to rebuke might deserve a scathing poem or two. As for blasphemy in poetry, we'll give God the last word on that.

Uses punctuation like chicken pox: Maybe to be different, the poet omits all punctuation or omits it now and then with no consistent speckling. Sometimes lines get all scribbled up with commas, but for most poems, the communication value of plain, old, everyday, regular punctuation is actually considerate and rather hard to beat.

Uses fonts, colors, or patterns of paper that turn editorial eyes into disco balls: Some poets apparently think they must yell to get an editor or reader’s attention and, therefore, may also be inclined to use all caps. Ironically, such screams have the opposite effect, making readers clap hands only over ears.

Talks to self: For some reason, some poets seem to think a poem belongs in the genre of a diary or church confessional. This one-way conversation or out-pouring of emotions may lessen the likelihood of putrefication and, therefore, be healing for the poet, who may then be calling on readers to change a bandage or tend a wound. However, the job of a judge is merely to assesses the quality of a poem, not the mental state of the poet, who might aspire to being the next Sylvia Plath. This judge can, of course, pray for such persons, but then, maybe they already knew that.

And maybe you knew what I figured out: This list could go on and on too long, which, yes, has been the biggest problem with many poems. Let’s talk about that another time and compare notes on flaws we've noticed. Meanwhile, I need to get back to assessing my own poems and revise, revise, revise.


Mary Sayler, poet-writer

Scan A Poem. Get The Picture.

If you have a computer, you probably have a printer that scans photographs. Whether you took the photos or someone else did, the point of scanning is to get the picture. That’s what scansion (aka scanning a poem) does too. It shows your eye what your poetic ear can hear.

When you read a poem aloud, you can hear yourself give more emphasis to some syllables than others. Usually your voice will skip over “business words” such as prepositions (to, of, on) and articles (a, an, the), but you just naturally place more stress on the strong verbs and nouns. Those nouns provide pictures for your poems, and then the active verbs move the pictures along.

Let’s take, for example, the last half of the above sentence and use capital letters to note the accents or stressed syllables:

and ACTive VERBS MOVE the PICtures aLONG

Listening for those accents or beats is what you do when you scan. Then breaking the line into groups of two to three syllable creates the poetic meter known as feet. To define:

An iamb is two syllables with the emphasis on the second: and ACT/ tive VERBS/ aLONG/.

The opposite of an iamb is the trochee, which also has two syllables but with the emphasis on the first:

MOVE the/ PICtures/

So put it all together to scan the sentence, and you’ll see three iambs and two trochees. Since that adds up to five feet and the Latin for “five” is “penta,” the line is pentameter.

If a line of pentameter has more trochees than anything else, you’d have trochaic pentameter. In this line, however, the iambs outnumber the trochees, so presto! You have the famous iambic pentameter.

Even though that sentence was not particularly poetic, you get the picture. Scansion shows you the emphasis or beat that you hear as you read a poem aloud. So your eyes can now see what your ears hear.

What difference does that make? Maybe none! If, however, your poem loses its rhythm or seems to have no musicality as you read aloud, then scan the poem. See where it loses the beat.

For instance, you might find that you have three or more unstressed syllables together. Those feet have names, too, but the point is, they show you that you need to tighten the beat. How? Change words around, or find new words that have the emphasis where you want.


Mary Harwell Sayler, poet-writer

Interrogate Your Poems

To edit and evaluate your own poetry more objectively, interrogate your poems, not as you write, but as you revise. Ask:

• Do I have a new perspective or unusual treatment of a theme or topic?

• Did I explore something that will interest most people?

• Did I do my research and double-check all facts?

• Did I accurately present information, observations, and comparisons?

• Does the poem say what it wants to say in words, images, symbols, or ideas that most readers can relate to and envision?

• Is the poem honest?

• Do the lines have credible conflict, counterpoint, juxtaposition, or anything else that shows a push-pull tension?
• Does the poem have distinctive language and an interesting voice?

• Do my word choices bring to mind interesting connotations and sounds?

• Did I emphasize certain syllables or rhymes for a special effect?

• Does the poem have musicality that can be heard by reading aloud?

• Is the overall tone in keeping with the theme and subject?

• Does the poem hint of humor rather than mere wit or cleverness?

• Does anything in the poem need correcting?

• Does the form fit the idea or story?

• Do the line-breaks work well in my free verse?

• What would happen if I break the lines differently?

• Does my traditional poem nicely fit a traditional form?

• If not, does each variation in the pattern have a purpose?

• Does it work?

• Did I take any risks to keep the poem from clicking shut at the end?

• Does the length and style suit the needs of most poetry journals?

• Will readers want to read this poem again and again?

• Would I love this poem if someone else had written it?



Mary Sayler, poet-writer ...