Avoid two extremes:
1. Some poems have too little theme and lack a unifying idea. They do nothing but describe or talk, without a clear idea of any attitude they may be expressing. You need not be heavy-handed; you can imply your meaning.
2. Some poems have too much theme. Writers who try too hard to argue for what they think of as a “message” (“war is bad”; “people of all races are equal”) often produce heavy-handed propaganda instead of poetry, no matter how noble the idea is. Good poetry may explore rather than conclude, suggest rather than preach. One understated image of a bag lady can work better than a page of ranting about “poverty and injustice in our society today.”
Writers who try too hard to produce an effect resort to artificial language:
Archaic
Whither hath fled
Thy doleful damsel?
Gushy
Gentle, soothing breezes
Waft shimmering, gilded clouds
Over serene sapphire streams
And lush, verdant meadows.
Writers who do not try hard enough produce flat language with nothing poetic about it:
Drab
I guess she just
Doesn’t like me
Very much.
Drab
There was nothing
Good on TV so
I went out with
My friends.
Drab
We were behind by
A field goal with three
Minutes to play and
Third down and six on our
Own twenty-yard line, but
We had two time-outs left.
A poet’s medium is words, just as a dancer’s is movement and a sculptor’s is marble. Every line should do something interesting with language. Not even the pleasant sentiment which the lines below express can redeem the dullness of their language:
Thanks, Mom, for spending quality time with me.
You helped me to be all that I can be.
Good poets are aware of line and sentence breaks. Three errors are common:
1. Avoid ending lines on weak words. Careful poets are sensitive to the structure of lines. Because the end of a poetic line tends to receive emphasis, nouns, pronouns, adjectives and verbs fit best. Articles, conjunctions and prepositions merely serve functions.
Articles:
a, an, the
Conjunctions:
and, but, or, when
Prepositions:
of, in, to, with
The line is one of the basic units with which a poet works. Even if you are not using meter or rhyme, there should be reasons for line length and line breaks. End lines where the reader's breath would normally pause, or to call attention to a particular word. Great poets achieve powerful effects by ending lines on well-chosen verbs:
Elizabeth Bishop: The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
Alexander Pope: At every word a reputation dies.
William Shakespeare: And where the offense is, let the great axe fall.
2. Avoid awkward line breaks.
Line breaks sound awkward at certain points in the grammatical structure of a sentence, especially when they come within short groups of words that form a grammatical unit. Some examples of awkward line breaks:
Between possessive and noun: Into the woods he rode his / Horse . . .
Between auxiliary verb and main verb: Into the dark woods he will / Ride . . .
Between adjective and noun: He rode into the dark, deep and lovely / Woods . . .
When the adjective is part of the predicate, it sounds more natural at the end of a line:
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
And I have promises to keep.
3. Avoid breaking sentences near the beginning or end of a line.
There is nothing wrong with ending sentences in mid-line; good poets seek variety, instead of ending every sentence at the end of a line. However, two patterns usually sound awkward: a sentence that ends just before the end of a line, and a sentence that begins just after the start of a line. The first draft of the poem below has two awkward transitions: between lines 1 and 2, and lines 3 and 4. With minor revisions, the writer made the lines read more smoothly:
Awkward sentence breaks:
The wave came rolling gently up the glossy
Shore. It swept along a crab with churning legs
Until the water seeped into the sand. It went
Scampering up the slippery slope into his hole.
Revised:
The wave rolled gently up the glossy shore,
Sweeping along a crab with churning legs,
Who, when the water seeped into the sand,
Went scampering up the slope into its hole.
In the lines below, notice how smoothly Robert Frost varies the alignment of sentence structure with line structure. A man is pleading with his wife to talk to him. In four sentences of unequal length, Frost makes the language sound natural and colloquial while maintaining the blank verse (unrhymed iambic pentameter):
Tell me about it if it’s something human.
Let me into your grief. I’m not so much
Unlike other folks as your standing there
Apart would make me out. Give me my chance.
Even if you are not writing in meter, you can try for lines approximately equal in number of syllables. Lines that vary in length with no pattern are hard to read. Long lines (over about eleven syllables) are usually too long to be read smoothly. There is a reason that eight-syllable lines (tetrameter) and ten-syllable lines (pentameter) have been most popular in English poetry: they are the length that English users naturally speak with one breath.
Here are some lines from a student’s poem. Read the two drafts aloud to sense the difference:
First draft:
Raw meat slabs are thrown onto the frying pan
Hissing like angry snakes.
A drop of oil jumps onto the cook and bites into her arm with a venomous fang.
Revision:
Raw meat slabs thrown onto the pan
Hiss at the cook like angry snakes.
A drop of oil jumps on her arm
And bites her flesh with venomous fang.
In the first draft, the lines are random in length. Line 1 has eleven syllables, line 2 has six, and line 3 has twenty-one. Line 3 forces readers to pause but does not indicate where. The student revised the lines, aiming at about eight syllables per line, and improved the rhythm. Line breaks give readers subtle cues; even in run-on lines (with no closing punctuation), the reader pauses slightly.
Two flaws are common in student poetry. Sometimes both appear in the same poem.
1. Avoid writing a vague series of unconnected phrases.
Walking along the beach
The sun shining
Sand under my feet
Waves lapping the shore
Relaxing in summer
2. Avoid writing a monotonous string of one-line sentences.
I walked along the beach.
The sun was shining.
I felt the sand under my feet.
I heard the waves lapping the shore.
I was relaxing in summer.
Sentence structure is an important resource for a poet, like metaphor, imagery or irony. Vary your sentence structure. Use run-on lines as well as end-stopped lines. A well unified sentence that covers several lines, carefully building up to its conclusion, can be highly effective.
All the rules of punctuation that apply to prose apply to poetry as well. Commas, periods and other punctuation marks go where sentence structure and clarity of meaning dictate. Poetry is not an excuse for carelessness.
Rhyme
Beginning poets often think rhyme is easy and meter difficult. They are half right. Meter is difficult, but rhyme is much harder to use well than meter, and bad rhyme does more harm than bad meter. If your are writing with rhyme, know the rules for using it.
“Fold” and “cold” might make a good rhyme, but when you read “which not being cold,” it is obvious that the writer has sacrificed natural, clear phrasing for the sake of rhyme. Concentrate on ideas first, phrasing second, rhyme third (if you are using rhyme), and meter last.
AWKWARD: Ăll nīght ⁄ thĕ thūn ⁄ dĕr māde ⁄ ŭs fēel ⁄ ĭng fēar
BETTER (rephrased): Ăll nīght ⁄ thĕ thūn ⁄ dĕr strūck ⁄ ŏur hēarts ⁄ wĭth fēar
BETTER (new rhyme word): Ăll nīght ⁄ thĕ thūn ⁄ dĕr shōok ⁄ thĕ āt ⁄ mŏsphēre
Three flaws are common.
1. Avoid using tacked-on phrases (“you see,” “as they say”) that contribute nothing except rhyme:
it’s true
as they say
you see
2. Avoid predictable and overused rhymes:
love-above
see-me-be
do-you-too
3. Avoid rhymes on prepositions, conjunctions and articles, which carry little meaning and are usually unaccented.
from, on, to
and, as, when
a, an, the
For more information on line endings, see PLE.
If the final syllable is stressed, the rhyme is called masculine. If one or more syllables follow the final stress, the rhyme is called feminine.
Masculine rhyme: flōat-remōte-petticōat, bēnd-defēnd-comprehēnd
Feminine rhyme: vītal-tītle-recītal, reālity-hospitālity-superficiālity
Feminine endings (whether rhymed or not) are extrametrical; in other words, they do not count as part of the meter. The following line is considered pentameter even though the final, unstressed “-tion” is an eleventh syllable.
Tŏ bē / ŏr nōt / tŏ bē: / thāt ĭs / thĕ quēstiŏn.
The unstressed “-al” at the end of “vital” does not rhyme with words like “all” or “pal.”
True or perfect rhyme is exact; “title” is a true rhyme for “vital,” and “tidal” is not.
No rhyme: grievĭng-rīng
Better: grieving-even
Perfect: grieving-leaving
No rhyme: hatĕd-dēad
Better: hated-raided
Perfect: hated-dated
Of course, another way to correct the weak rhymes on “hated”-“dead” and “grieving”-“ring” is by finding rhymes for “ring” and “dead.”
Meaning is more important than rhyme. True rhyme that makes good sense is ideal, but imperfect rhyme that makes good sense is better than true rhyme that does not.
If you need a rhyme for “mouse,” “lighthouse” or “red blouse” will not work well, because “light” and “red” are stressed. As a result, the voice falls away at the rhyming syllable, which should be strong.
WEAK: Through evening fog they saw the old lighthouse.
SCANNED: Thrŏugh ēve ⁄ nĭng fōg ⁄ thĕy sāw ⁄ thĕ ōld ⁄ līghthŏuse.
“Tame” and “pain” are not true rhymes. Neither are “rather” and “father.” A verb like “throws” or a noun like “toes” is not a true rhyme for “go.” When one word ends in “-s” and one does not, it is usually not hard to solve the problem by rephrasing to have either both words end with or without the “-s.”
Careful poets avoid two flaws.
1. Do not use identical sounds. “Mind” and “remind” do not rhyme; they are identical in sound.
2. Even if two rhyming words are different, avoid placing them close to another pair of rhymes that uses a similar sound. They are too close to sound like separate rhymes.
Couplets
Too similar in consonant sound
cried
decide
freed
need
Quatrain rhymed ABAB
Same vowel sound
found
howl
ground
scowl
If your poem has the second flaw, you do not need to delete two lines or change the lines completely. You may be able to correct the problem by relocating lines or adding new lines in order to separate the pairs of lines with similar sounds.
Meter
When you read “to come to home,” it is obvious that the writer distorted natural phrasing (“to come home”) for the sake of meter. Concentrate on ideas first, phrasing second, rhyme third (if you are using rhyme), and meter last. See the example in the box below.
In her first draft, a student realized she was one syllable short of ten:
AWKWARD: All night the thunder made us feel fear
SCANNED: Ăll nīght / thĕ thūn / dĕr māde / ŭs fēel / fēar
Her first idea for revision had bad grammar and meter:
AWKWARD: All night the thunder made us to feel fear
SCANNED: Ăll nīght / thĕ thūn / dĕr māde / ŭs tŏ fēel / fēar
Her next try fixed the meter but not the grammar:
AWKWARD: All night the thunder made us feeling fear
SCANNED: Ăll nīght / thĕ thūn / dĕr māde / ŭs fēel / ing fēar
She solved the problem with rephrasing:
BETTER: All night the thunder struck our hearts with fear
SCANNED: Ăll nīght / thĕ thūn / dĕr strūck / ŏur hēarts / wĭth fēar
Not satisfied, she found a new solution with more interesting language:
BETTER: All night the thunder shook the atmosphere
SCANNED: Ăll nīght / thĕ thūn / dĕr shōok / thĕ āt / mŏsphēre
Every syllable should have meaning.
PADDED: Bŭt mōrn ⁄ ĭng brōught ⁄ ă dāy ⁄ thăt īs ⁄ sŏ clēar.
BETTER: Bŭt mōrn ⁄ ĭng wāshed ⁄ thĕ slāte ⁄ ănd māde ⁄ ĭt clēar. (rephrased)
BETTER: Bŭt mōrn ⁄ ĭng māde ⁄ ŏur tēr ⁄ rŏrs dīs ⁄ ăppēar. (new rhyme word)
They quickly become monotonous, and they are hard to use in iambic meter because most of them are stressed. Try for a balance of polysyllabic and monosyllabic words. One or two well chosen words can animate a dull line. The writer of the line below has a metaphor, but the diction is weak:
FLAT: Shĕ gōt ⁄ sŏ mād ⁄ hĕr mēan ⁄ lōoks būrnt ⁄ hīm ūp.
The writer found three powerful words that make the line much better:
LIVELY: Shĕ scōrched ⁄ hĭm wīth ⁄ ĭncīn ⁄ ĕrāt ⁄ ĭng glāres.
Even one or two polysyllabic words in a line can have a powerful effect:
George Meredith: The army of unalterable law.
Oliver Goldsmith: Where wealth accumulates and men decay.
William Shakespeare: And smooth as monumental alabaster.
Many editions of older poetry use punctuation to help readers with pronunciation. You may see –ed endings that are pronounced:
O no! It is an ever-fixèd mark.
You may see contractions that indicate elided syllables:
It is the star to ev’ry wand’ring bark.
Most writers today who use meter avoid such indicators because they are artificial and distracting. No one in our day and age says “o’er” (for “over”), “e’er” (for “ever”) or “ere” (for “before”). Trust your readers. If they cannot tell where you intend a variation from normal pronunciation or meter, it is probably a bad, forced variation. Even if they misread your elision, a slight irregularity in your meter is better than unnatural punctuation that makes your page ugly:
Artificial: She ordered bakèd pork and frièd rice.
Artificial: My line’s not big ’nough f’rall my syll’bles.
Better: My line’s not big enough for all my syllables.
Poets sometimes elide syllables for the sake of meter. Elision (rhymes with “vision,” not “mission”) is the omission of an unstressed syllable in scansion for the sake of regular meter. In William Wordsworth’s line “I was a traveler then upon the moor,” the second syllable in traveler (-el-) is elided:
Ĭ wās ⁄ ă trāv ⁄ elĕr thēn ⁄ upōn ⁄ thĕ mōor.
You can read the third foot as an anapestic substitution (ĕlĕr thēn), but is really just an iamb with the first two syllables elided. Elided syllables may be read aloud although they do not weigh in the meter. Poetic contractions like ’tis, e’en, and o’er exist for the sake of elision. Elisions work best when there are two consecutive unstressed syllables in a word of three or more syllables (for example, words with endings like “-ial,” “-ious” or “-iate”). John Dryden uses a famous witty elision in his satirical poem Mac Flecknoe (c. 1678), in which he mocks a bad poet named Thomas Shadwell:
The rest to some faint meaning make pretense,
But Shadwell never deviates into sense.
Where has Dryden deviated from the metrical pattern?
Read Shakespeare’s sonnet 33 below and see if you can find the seven elisions. The words “world” (line 7) and “hour” (11) are monosyllabic, not elided. The feminine endings in the last two lines are not elisions.
Full many a glorious morning have I seen
Flatter the mountaintops with sovereign eye,
Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy;
Anon permit the basest clouds to ride
With ugly rack on his celestial face,
And from the forlorn world his visage hide,
Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace:
Even so my sun one early morn did shine
With all triumphant splendor on my brow;
But out! alack! he was but one hour mine,
The region cloud hath masked him from me now.
Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth;
Suns of the world may stain when heaven’s sun staineth.
To see the answers, scroll to the bottom of the page.
Try sentences that run on from one line to the next. Begin with subordinating conjunctions (like “although” and “when”) or prepositions (“in,” “on,” “with”); save the main clause until a second or third line.
Make your poem look good on the page. Of the five versions below, version 5 looks best and version 1 second-best.
Version 1: The Wallflower. The title is not centered, and the narrow left margin leaves a wide space at the right:
Version 2: The Diving Board. The title is centered, but the title hangs over the edge of the poem:
Version 3: The Christmas Tree. The margins are ragged. Only the title should be centered:
Version 4. The left margin was set at three inches for the entire poem including the title; as a result, the centering of the title is skewed to the right:
Version 5. Everything is correct: margins, alignment, centering. The poem looks good:
To make your poem look like version 5, take two steps:
1. Center the title, not the entire poem.
2. Set a wide left margin for the rest of the poem (not for the title). Choose a line of average length (not the shortest or the longest line), center it, see where its left margin is, and set a tab stop or margin there. If the poem is in iambic pentameter and you are using 12-point type, a three-inch margin (two inches—or four tab stops—from the one-inch margin) is usually right.
The Keables Guide recommends leaving two or three blank lines after the title and double-spacing the rest of the poem. If your poem has stanza breaks, leave two blank lines between stanzas and one between lines.
Advanced Formatting
For advanced students seeking to format poems with indented lines of varied length, the Keables Guide suggests the following steps. Use 12-point Times New Roman.
1. Format > Tabs > Clear all
2. Format > Tab stop position > 1.8", 2", 2.2", 2.4", 2.6" > Set > OK
3. Use tabs at 1.8", 2", 2.2", 2.4" and 2.6" respectively for iambic pentameter, tetrameter, trimeter, dimeter and monometer.
The lines below, from a poem by George Herbert, have varied meter, as indicated in the right margins. The indentation is consistent.
You may have to vary the tabs slightly to achieve the best centering if you use a font other than Times New Roman, or if you are formatting a poem that is not in iambic meter but that has some lines indented.
Elisions in Shakespeare’s Sonnet 33
Full man- / -y a glor- / -ious morn- / -ing have / I seen
Flatter / the moun- / -taintops / with sov- / -ereign eye,
Kissing / with gold- / -en face / the mead- / -ows green,
Gilding / pale streams / with heaven- / -ly al- / -chemy;
Anon / permit / the bas- / -est clouds / to ride
With ug- / -ly rack / on his / celes- / -tial face,
And from / the for- / -lorn world / his vis- / -age hide,
Stealing / unseen / to west / with this / disgrace:
Even so / my sun / one ear- / -ly morn / did shine
With all / trium- / -phant splen- / -dor on / my brow;
But out! / alack! / he was / but one / hour mine,
The re- / -gion cloud / hath masked / him from / me now.
Yet him / for this / my love / no whit / disdaineth;
Suns of / the world / may stain / when heaven’s / sun staineth.