Polishing Therapeutic Writings into Poetry

Actionable tips for improving your poetry

Last year I released an article entitled “Poetry is Not Your Therapist,” and to date it has garnered more response than any other thing I have written. Clearly, I hit a nerve in some and captured the attention and interest of others.

Though the article was initially a bit “rant-y,” the premise of the piece is very important — if you want to create polished poetry.

I recommend reading that article first, then this article will have more value to you as a creative writer and poet. Both articles address all skill levels and are NOT meant to be critical of your methods or your work.

Both are meant to elevate your skills, challenge you to push yourself creatively, and to encourage you to take your poems to the next level. So give this a read — and I’ll meet you right back here!

Read this first:

Welcome back!

Are you ready to tackle this “writing as therapy” vs “let’s take this a bit further” conversation? Let’s get started.

To answer your question — YES it is totally ok, in fact it is fantastic, to write from your heart, to do cathartic writings, and to express your deepest thoughts and emotions through poetry. Writing poetry can be all about the experience, all about the inner growth, and all about the process of healing.

But this, and the article “Poetry is Not Your Therapist,” is about more than that.

It is about taking that cathartic writing process and using it as a “first level” of poetry writing — not the final level. If you want to improve your body of work, you have to do the work part, not just the self-expression part. (Especially if you want to consider publishing.)

Your First Level Poetry looks a bit like this:

• you have an idea, an event, a memory, a trauma — that you want to write about
• you write out your thoughts and emotions, put in some of the most significant (to you) details
• you put it into a generalized form, meaning, you add line breaks and maybe some rhymes
• you feel great getting this thing out and feel tempted to share it for feedback from others

Stop. This is only the first level. NOW the real work begins. This is where you have to take a more emotionally distant approach to this piece of writing, and start thinking of it as a body of writing, not a piece of your heart crafted into words. Yes, it started as a piece of your heart, but if you nurture it properly, it will have a heart of its own. Breath of its own. Life — of its own.

And your reader will have a deeper poetic experience. It will take your writing from being self-expressive to being a craft that impacts others.

Here are a few things that are common in this early version:

Lack of sensory imagery

Most early-form poetry is full of words, but seriously lacking in sensory imagery.

Re-read your work. Now, make a list of the things you can see in your mind — not the memory — the images presented in the words of the poem. Don’t worry if you are coming up short here. You can add in the sensory imagery you need to create the emotional experience for your reader.

Think of a poem as a series of snapshots, hanging on a line. Each image you provide for your reader is a snapshot. Some snapshots are smells your reader can experience. Some are scenes they can see. Some are sounds that they can experience. Provide this stuff for them so they experience your poem — not just read about something you experienced.

“Thought-splaining”

Yes, this is my word, and yes feel free to use it.

Re-read your work. How much of it is you telling your reader what you were thinking and feeling? Do this very, very sparingly, or your work will read like a personal letter or a diary entry, rather than a poem.

Early poetic work is very much like this. It is up to you to take each “thought” or sentiment and replace it with a sensory experience. If your images do their job, you won’t have to tell the reader how you were feeling or what happened next. Let the reader bring their own emotion to what they are experiencing in the poem.

A good example of this: Consent shows a series of images that are unforgettable — even though the subject matter was very cathartic writing for me. What do people take away from it? The unforgettable image of the fish. They know what is happening in the poem, and it horrifies the reader just as much without me babbling on about my internal pain.

Let the poem have life of its own — outside of the sole purpose of bearing the weight of your personal issues. You can bilaterally work out those personal issues and develop the inspiration into a finished poem with a bigger meaning and purpose.

Besides, I am just going to say it, reading about what someone is thinking and feeling is just plain boring. SHOW me.

Too much “fluff”

Back to the snapshots concept. If your poem is stronger by being a series of connected sensory experiences, it is also stronger by not diluting your images with fluff words. Connect the images with as few words as possible. Get rid of words that do not contribute or pull their weight in the poem.

• that
• but
• as
• like
• but then
• long meaningless clauses
• excessive strings of descriptive words

Now, let’s apply:

Step One:

My heart was broken into pieces when he left. I thought I’d never love anyone else again or let anyone in.

(Analyze for sensory images)

My heart was broken into pieces when he left. I thought I’d never love anyone else again or let anyone in.

(It’s kind of hard to find sensory images, right? There’s really no substance here, just some “thought-splaining” and word fluff.

Step Two

Let’s add sensory and get rid of the fluff:

(Broken heart: lets go with an icy theme, that sounds fun)

I am sealed in ice since he took away the sun. My legs, frozen to this icy lake. — no one can find me here.

I don’t think I want to be found.

I close my eyes and let this crisp silence still my wounded heart.

Ok —not the best thing I’ve ever written, but just a quick example to show that WHOA, you can see how hurt this person is by the imagery provided. The reader is experiencing a scene that represents the emotion. Even though there is still some telling of the emotion, it is minimized, fewer fluff words, and the imagery has been strengthened to give greater depth and experience in the poem.

I am sealed in ice since he took away the sun. (This tells us someone left) My legs, frozen to this icy lake. — no one can find me here. (feeling isolated, broken, lonely)

I don’t think I want to be found. (a feeling here but minimal, separated for effect)

I close my eyes and let this crisp silence (the “s” sounds here are icy, silent, heavy — adds sound to the sensory image) still my wounded heart. (now the heart is more visual — frozen, hurt, alone)

From there you can move on to word choice (make those verbs work for you!), grammar (check your tenses), and capitalization / line lengths / punctuation (the finishing touches).

For further reading:

If you are working on finding your voice. If you want to improve the sensory images in your work. If you want to improve your poetry blogging.

The Waters Run Clean Through Me (Example of a poem that “shows rather than tells,” subject: my love for nature.)

Thank you for reading.

Christina M. Ward 💗 is a poet, author of the best-selling poetry collection organic, freelance poetry editor, and writer. You can follow her work in the Fiddleheads & Floss Poetry publication or join her Author Newsletter. She runs an independent Facebook group for poets who write on the Medium platform and welcomes anyone who wants to grow as a poet and support the creativity of others to join us at POM.