how to
How-tos for all things poetry; learn how to analyze a poem, construct a haiko, differentiate between a metaphor and simile and more.
A Matrix of Change
There used to be a time when there were limited ways to share a poem: type it, photocopy it, or say it aloud. Of course we know these are what's now referred to as "Dinosaur Methods". I quickly found this out when my son laughed me out of his room after I so proudly shared a Facebook post where I had photo shot a picture of my poem. It was this moment that inspired me to find 'new millennium' ways to share my work. Yes, my timeshare in my comfort zone was bound to be rented by my fearless way forward.
Joyce Plair-JordanPublished 3 years ago in PoetsImagery, Lies, and a Ticket to the Circus
When I think about what makes a poem stand out, I think of fantastic imagery. Poems that employ rich descriptions and use details that allow me to fall into the poem and experience it on as many levels as possible — hearing, smelling, seeing, feeling — are poems that I tend to remember long after I first read them. The details are what re-emerge later in my mind. Carefully crafted imagery lends a particular power to a poem, helping to shape the poem’s tone and guide the reader into its unique world. Imagery sets the mood. It’s the candles and jazz of poetry writing.
Vanessa JimisonPublished 3 years ago in PoetsThe double take
It takes a lot for Shan to do a double take. Even with me. I’m the first to admit that I can present others with situations whose significance has not been completely grasped at first.
Pauline FountainPublished 3 years ago in PoetsHue-man
It may be true, that I am nowhere near the likes of you --and just like you, I consider my colours to be true For it is with ecstasy that I oscillate,
Onyx Tikal SermetPublished 3 years ago in PoetsQuestions
Questions By Karen CARRINGTON~ I may be young but have a soul of old. Many times that’s been told. The pressures that exist within my realm. My head feels like it’s gonna explode. The constant struggle, the hustle and bustle. Only but a baby, yet have to survive. I made this bed and now I must lie. It may sound sad but Lord knows it’s true. Wasn’t easy for me may be even harder for you. The few that are good may be an insight to you. I’ve learned from those of old. That’s the insight let it be told. Life is no joke, although at times we choose to play. But NEVER no EVER did I think it be this way. What are the Answers to the questions in my mind. Do they even exist, or does it all take time.
Karen CarringtonPublished 3 years ago in PoetsSearch Of The Soul
Search of the Soul By ~Karen Carrington~ You know life just passes by. Constantly I stop and ask myself why. “Why” is the question that swims within my soul. Why am I so deep? Caught up in gaining control. Control of my life. Control of me. I sit and I ponder on my ever sought goals. What are the reasons of why I’m not yet in control? I need to search I need to find. Why it is I’m unable to see. The thoughts on why I cannot be....Totally satisfied with what you’ve given me. Is it unhappiness, is it relief? The answers to my questions are only in grief. Denial to the fact I’m not believing in me. Blind to the fact that I’m unable to see. What it is everyone else sees. So rare, so unique. So passionate, yet so incomplete. Until I believe, that I am what I be. I fail to realize that it is what I see. I wanna stop allowing the negative that brings me down. I want to stop letting thoughts make my life go round. It’s not about “them” it’s all about me. Feeling so totally overwhelmed with all that’s going on. To be so young, yet be so strong.
Karen CarringtonPublished 3 years ago in PoetsVisionary
I dream in black and white Rather strange, colour devoid I find my vision blurry Coal curtained, by night I dream in black streets,
Jacquie MinnaarPublished 3 years ago in PoetsThe Survival Guide I Discovered While Inside
1. Carry this with you everywhere you go 2. Follow the instructions on every page 3. Order is not important 4. Instructions are open to interpretation
Anthony DahmPublished 3 years ago in Poetsroseate
It was so deep, it looked black as faces bloodied by life all there was, pulsing red until it rained. Through hot, thick smog
It's not a chair, but I'm sitting on it
A taste of the sun's yellow like salty metal wasn't enough. Intent to swallow the whole damn thing pride burnt my tongue and mouth's roof
Kitchen Reno
All possibilities hinge on the color green. Before floors, lighting, kitchen sink gauge (where less is more), before committing to granite, leathered to the brink of Egyption cotton,
Josie SpagoPublished 3 years ago in PoetsWarmth and Sunshine
I hope you delight in the sun as she warms your glorious skin. I hope you let down your barriers and dance bare foot in the wind.
Tiahni AdamsonPublished 3 years ago in Poets