Revise, Revising, Re-Vision

 

Writing a poem sometimes starts with a fresh idea such as making an unusual connection between two different things. As we go back over what we’ve written, we might feel we’ve successfully conveyed our idea to other people who read our work. Or not!

 

In the following poem, I used the three-line haiku form (5/7/5 syllables) to make my comparison:

 

The size of rainfall
can’t be measured in drops or
inches but thread count.

 

Somehow that didn’t quite get the thought across, so I revised the poem and loosened the lines:

 

A heavy deluge
cannot be measured
in meters or inches
but thread count.

 

Hmmm. Maybe that clarified the idea somewhat, but I didn’t like the way the poem just sat there like a flat statement that probably wouldn’t make sense to people who have never heard rain referred to as “sheets.” Also, the poem needed energy.

 

The final revision seemed livelier and clearer, thereby securing its place among other haiku and mini-poems in my book, Talking to the Wren, published by Cyberwit.net.

 

Deluge!
Sheets of rain
cannot be measured
in meters
or inches
but thread count.

©2020, Mary Harwell Sayler

 

Sometimes, though, a poem doesn’t begin with an idea so much as a vision, an image, a story. For example, I wanted to capture true events in this poem:

 

Civilian Sighting

In woods on the other side of our nearest neighbor,
a man as slim as a new limb set up his home. He
found water from the pond and plenty of berries
until someone complained to the local law. An old
childhood chum, who keeps an open place in her
kind heart, charmed Facebook friends into giving
to those less fortunate than themselves. Yes! Let’s
paper-line the moneyed edges of a windfall, but
can’t we let an emaciated man live in the forest
beside us, at least until his shadow grows larger
than that armadillo nesting freely in the hedge?

 

Although the paragraph form gave this prose poem the look and feel of a story, I’d hoped for a more poetic-feeling result. So I tried breaking the lines differently to see/hear if that improved the poem.

 

Also, the poem seemed too wordy, which lessened the dramatic effect and clouded the overall image. So I cut words, hoping to sharpen the focus.

 

To do that, however, I first had to refocus on the important parts of the story. I needed to ask myself, “What am I trying to say?”

 

As the name implies, a re-vision adjusts the vision. Ultimately, the revision helps readers to see what you see as you invite them into the experience of the poem.

 

Civilian Sighting

In the woods
on the other side
of our nearest neighbor,
a man as slim as a new limb
set up his home. He found
water from the pond and
plenty of berries until someone
complained to the local law.

A childhood friend I
found again on Facebook
asked others to give to
those less fortunate than
themselves. Yes, but could
we not let an emaciated man
live in the woods beside us,
at least until his shadow looms
larger than that armadillo
nesting in the hedge?

©2020, Mary Harwell Sayler from the poetry book A Gathering of Poems

 

 

…

 

Revising for Sound and Sense

Poetry revision seldom involves rewriting the poem. More often, revising simply means the poem needs a little tweaking to clarify what’s said and/or to enhance the poem’s musicality.

This new haiku provides an example.

In the morning light,

a bird begins its chirping.

Maybe I can sleep.

Reading those lines aloud reveals a lack of sound effects that, well, would make the poem more effective. Also, the connection between the last line and the first two seems too subtle.

Once the problem of a poem has been identified, a solution will usually come to guide the revision.

In the morning light,

birds begin their lullabies.

Maybe now I’ll sleep.

The tweaks clearly connect the last line to the first two and add a hint of humor. 

When the poem is read aloud, the consonance (aka alliteration or repetition of an initial consonant) can be heard in the “b’s” and in the “l” sounds – the latter of which might lull me at last to sleep.

Mary Harwell Sayler, ©2020

..

Ballads: The Story Poem Form

Recently a poet asked if I could identify the form she had used in writing a story poem. I wasn’t sure! A first draft with no pattern in mind is not likely to plink onto a page and come out true to form, but that’s okay. That’s even to be expected because traditional poetry usually results, not from writing in form, but from revising lines to fit a particular pattern.

Ideally that form will shape up what’s there. So, the more forms or poetry patterns you become acquainted with, the more options you’ll have as you revise. (Like, why try to reinvent countless centuries of pattern choices?)

The story poem I just mentioned had end-line rhymes and roughly four beats per line. The poet had then divided those lines into groups of four, making her narrative poem a four-beat poem (accentual verse) set in quatrains (four lines per verse.)

Is that a problem? No! That intuitive pattern has frequently been employed by poets, who enjoy playing with words, images, and rhythm. Most often, the resulting quatrains have four beats per line, although some have three or five. But this poem had something more than a regular beat and specific line-breaks. It had story.

When we think of narrative or story poems, book-length epic poetry such as Beowolf might come to mind. However, far shorter narratives can introduce heroes, legends, Bible stories, or personal tales with which readers can relate.

With a little tweaking, quatrains with a 4/4/4/4- beat can be revised to fit a ballad form aka literary ballad aka folk ballad aka hymn ballad, each of which often has an alternating beat of 4/3/4/3 for each quatrain.

If you’d like to know more about the ballad or other form, type the one you want in the Search box on this page. For instance, searching for the word “ballad” should bring up the previous post “Writing a Ballad.”

For more in-depth discussions and examples of poetry forms (and free verse tips too), consider A Poet's Guide to Writing Poetry, based on my former home study course Or, make learning easy and lively for yourself, your classroom, and/or creative kids of any age with The ABC's of Poetry: A Dictionary for Children and for Fun in hardback. 

Mary Harwell Sayler, ©2019, poet-writer 

…

How to ruin an almost good poem

For over a decade I chaired the poetry division in a well-run writing competition for poets and writers, and each year I noticed similar mistakes in poems that almost placed. Having learned from this recurring cycle of flaws and errors, I thought you might welcome the following list of things to avoid – not as you write, but as you revise.

• Expressing excessive sentimentality with such words as tears, heart, share, cry, and dear ole something or other

• Stating the obvious

• Writing lines that don't hum true

• Venting, arguing, and/or guilt-tripping readers 

• Bad-mouthing any person or group 

• Using punctuation like chicken pox

• Choosing fonts or colors that turn an editor’s eyes into disco balls

• Chatting without regarding potential readers

• Saying nothing fresh, insightful, imaginative, interesting, or new

• Including clichés that were imaginative a l-o-n-g time ago

• Using crude words, vulgar language, or other devices for shock value

• Emphasizing words that don't need to be noticed by rhyming end-lines – for instance, rhyming “the” and “me”

• Getting locked into end-line rhymes so strongly that syntax suffers, meaning muddies, and English teachers cringe

• Going on and on and on - as I'm truly trying not to do….



©2015, Mary Harwell Sayler has been blessed with many publishing credits including books of poems

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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

…

Finding the right word

Poets often have a favorite method of writing, and mine is to let words flow without censoring or editing until the poem has finished pouring onto paper and/or into my pc then taken a rest. Later, when I go back to revise, I read the poem aloud to locate and repair any rough spots.

With or without revision, a poem can speak clearly and well but still lack oomph. Sometimes this happens because of a lack of the imagery needed to help readers envision the experience or sometimes because of a lack of the sound echoes and musicality needed to create auditory interest or sometimes because of a lack of poetic energy, which is a nice way of saying: That poem is blah!

Correcting this situation most likely means spending a little more time with the poem and maybe with a thesaurus. To speed up the latter, I generally revise from my Word file, right-clicking onto each blah word then clicking onto the choice of “Synonyms,” but which one?

To find which synonyms will be effective in your poem, try this:

• Replace an abstract, unclear, or stale word with a synonym that increases the sound echoes in that line or the lines adjacent.

• Look for a word choice with interesting, thought-provoking connotations that add a new dimension or layer of meaning.

• Listen for the needed number of syllables. If your poem has a multi-syllabic word that mars the rhythm, find a synonym with one or two syllables to enhance the beat – or vice versa!

• Your best options for each new word choice will depend on the context of the poem, your overall theme, and the surrounding sounds, thoughts, or imagery you want to emphasize.

Hopefully, this will help to show what I mean:

The Poet in Pursuit of a Still, Right Word

The white stalk
of egret work
equals perfection:
Precision-oriented,
the S-shape
rocks forward
toward some intended
goal – a mystery
to me as it doesn’t
seem to notice
fish erupting
erratically in its
unruffled wake.

© 2012, Mary Harwell Sayler

In revising “The Poet in Pursuit of a Still, Right Word,” I wanted the poem to illustrate everything I just said. So the word “stalk” might bring to mind the kind of stalks you find in leggy plants such as the ones growing in the margins of a lake where an egret “plants” itself in pursuit of dinner. In addition, the egret is most definitely a stalker stalking its prey. Then, the slow, determined movement toward the next fishing spot comes in a forward-rocking motion that shapes the bird into a big “S,” which hopefully evokes that very picture.

One evening, however, I watched an egret concentrate on one spot without moving as fish swished and splashed all around those long legs! What a picture of attentiveness to the task! And that’s the final image I hope to convey:

As you look and listen for the right word, sharpen your focus. Don’t let eruptive options ruffle you or unreal words reel you in. Observe. Be precise, and be like an egret – on the lookout for each freshly-caught word to surface and splash tastefully into line.


© 2014, Mary Harwell Sayler, all rights reserved.

…

ABCs for editing your poetry

After setting aside your new poems for a while, come back with a pencil and encircle, underline, or make a checkmark beside any evidence of the following ABC’s. Then edit or revise your work accordingly.

A
Abstract words with general concepts that cannot be pictured unless accompanied by a metaphor or symbol or other means of illustrating and "showing" exactly what you mean

B
Boring, dull, uninteresting, monotonous, or stale lines that will probably need only a little more time and thought to sharpen into something clear, accurate, interesting, and visual or sensory

C
Clichés, once clever and fresh, now overused as trite expressions or sayings that other people have said -- again and again -- but also those clichéd, narrow assumptions about a broad subject that typically result in flat stereotypes of people, places, or cultures

D
Dialects ranging from regional expressions most people will not understand to teen lingo to in-house language or terminology closed to anyone outside the immediate group

E
Expectations, ranging from expecting readers to care about an unfamiliar subject (without enticing them to care!) to expecting editors to say that you alone have permission to break the rules they’ve carefully established as guidelines for the type of manuscripts they really hope to receive and publish

F
Fake, phony, false statements or fibs, whether intended or not, based on assumptions instead of opening up a dictionary or doing a word search on the Internet to find out

G
Glittery words or garbled ideas that look pretty or sound witty and clever but don’t add much to the poem except to say “Look at me! Look at me!”

H
Had enough for now? One more….

I
I promise. I can Include Insights and other Individuals, especially readers.


Most poetry editors, poetry readers, and poets have their own alphabet of dislikes that they do not like to see in a poem, and you probably do too. If so, great! Make a list of poetic preferences you notice as you read poems by other poets, and let those ABC’s guide the edits and revisions of your poetry.

~~

© 2012, Mary Sayler

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Three techniques for revising your poems

Poetry revisions sometimes occur with a new vision or “Aha!” moment, which can lead a poet to rewrite a poem, rather than revise. If, however, the poem just needs a little tweaking, these techniques can help you to revise: connection, compression, precision.

Connection

Does the “I” of the poem present an exclusive incident that readers won’t relate to or recognize as their experience too? If so, find a way to connect the poem with common concerns, interests, and encounters that most people have.

Also, see what happens if you change the viewpoint from the first person to the second person account to make the poem more personal to each “you” whom you address. Or, try switching the perspective to third person, so “they” will become what you the poet and I the reader can witness together.

Compression

Does the poem go on too long? Traditionally, print publications only have space for X number of lines on the page, and readers seem to prefer this too. By decreasing the word count, you often increase editorial interest and generate more interest from busy readers, but quite likely, you will also increase the rhythmic flow and literary quality of the poem.

Precision

As you read your poem aloud, listen for the sound and sense. Ask yourself:

Does each word and sentence speak with clarity?

Is there another phrase or word choice that would be more precise?

Is there a synonym that repeats the sound of nearby consonants or echoes vowels, thereby increasing musicality?

Would another word add connotations and deepen the meaning of the poem?



© 2011, Mary Harwell Sayler
All rights reserved.

~~

Revising your poetry can be a smooth move

Occasionally a poem presents itself in full, so the poet does not need to change a thing. Usually, though, revising a poem can coax out something hidden or work out rough spots, making the revision – literally – a smooth move.

Unless a poem calls too much attention to its shiny self, a well-polished poem may be more likely to gain a positive response from editors of poetry journals, anthologies, and e-zines.

To help your poems find their full potential:

First, make and keep a copy of the original. Refer back to this as needed.

Let each poem sit and rest. Later, when you return to the work, treat the poem as if someone else had written every line.

Clarify meaning. As you put aside a poem, you might forget the exact wording or initial train of thought, but both should be clear when you go back to re-read. If not, recast lines or change any words that cause confusion.

Keep an eye out for errors. If you have trouble proofreading your poems for errors in grammar, syntax, spelling, or punctuation, you might consider such word processing software as Microsoft Word, which includes those editorial features.

Keep an ear out for musicality. Read each version of the poem aloud and listen to its rhythm. Sometimes, just switching a word or line can change the rhythmic flow or smooth out a bumpy beat.

Play with line-breaks in free verse. For suggestions about where and when to break a line, see previous articles on this blog such as, “Breaking line with free verse” and “Line breaks can make or break your poem.”

Avoid overworking a poem. Too much revision can douse that spark of spontaneity that began the poem. If you suspect this has happened, set aside both the revised version and the original poem, then resume your revision when you no longer recall every aspect of the poem.

Read aloud each version. If something seems “off,” diagnose what and where as accurately as possible, so you can correct the problem. If that does not work, put the revision aside, focus on another poem, and, if need be, find another perspective.

Get professional feedback on your poetry. Another poet whose work you respect – and whom you can trust to respect yours – can often pinpoint flaws and also recognize and encourage your poetic strengths, which helps you to improve your poems in general.

Use reliable resources for poets.


For more suggestions about revising, look for previous articles on The Poetry Editor blog such as, “Getting A New Vision For Your Re-Vision” and
“Editing, Revising, and Otherwise Improving Your Poems.”

If you have found something workable that helps you to revise, add your tip, suggestion, or other encouraging word to poets in the Comments space below. Thanks - and have fun playing with words and lines and fresh visions in each re-vision.


(c) 2011, Mary 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.