The Stages of Writing a Poem
(A Totally Serious,
Extremely Scientific Breakdown)
1. The Sudden Surge of Emotion
Something creates an emotion. A
sunset. A breakup. A sandwich that was just okay. You are now a poet.
The world is waiting to hear about your feelings.
2. The Overly Grand Opening
Line
You write a first line so intense
it feels like it should be carved into marble. You reread it and think, “Yes.
This is how legends begin.”
3. The Rhyme Trap
You accidentally rhyme two lines
and now you’re stuck. Every sentence becomes a desperate search for words that
rhyme with “orange,” “month,” or “wolf.” You briefly consider inventing new
words.
4. The Metaphor Explosion
You start comparing everything to
everything else. The moon is a coin. Your thoughts are tangled vines. Your
coffee is the ghost of ambition. Nothing is safe.
5. The “Is This Deep or
Nonsense?” Crisis
You reread your poem and
genuinely cannot tell if it’s profound or if you’ve just strung together a
series of dramatic adjectives. You decide to trust the vibe.
6. The Line Break Olympics
You rearrange your line breaks
seventeen times, convinced that moving one word to the next line will unlock
poetic enlightenment. It does not, but you keep trying.
7. The Title Meltdown
You finish the poem and realize
you still need a title. You consider everything from a single mysterious word
to a full sentence that explains the entire poem. Nothing feels right.
8. The Dramatic Read‑Through
You read it aloud in your most
soulful voice. You feel like a misunderstood artist. Your dog looks concerned.
Your cat yawns. Your parakeet has nothing to say.
9. The “It’s Done” Acceptance
You decide the poem is finished, not
because it’s perfect, but because you’ve run out of emotional energy and
synonyms for “longing.”
10. The Impulse to Write
Another One
You close your notebook and
immediately get hit with another idea. The cycle continues. You are powerless
to stop it.
Deb Cushman's Chronicles of Nadavir
Frigg's Journey to Anasgar
Ping's Mystery in Pixiandria
