How to start a poem
A practical antidote to writer's block
Hi friends,
In the past, I’ve said I don’t love the term writer’s block. It’s not that I don’t believe in the many valid resistances to writing—which I’ve experienced so many times. It’s just that the term writer’s block insinuates it has something to do with your writing or your creative reservoir, and more often than not, I don’t believe it does.
When I don’t write, I am avoiding a certain feeling. For me, it’s usually the feeling that I won’t be able to write something I’m happy with and, as a result, will feel shitty about myself afterwards. I fear the feeling of sitting down and my mind is an empty nest. Like all my poems have flown away already, and I’m left alone, wondering how I’ll ever find them again.
Every time I bow to this fear, I reinforce it. I feed it dinner, and it grows a little every night. Sometimes, it has stayed with me for months until it’s so big I can’t even see the way to my writing desk.
So, how do we keep it small? How do we keep it manageable?
I want to gently invite you to start noticing when your soul genuinely wants to write and what is coming up for you internally when you resist the urge.
Ask yourself…what is the root of the resistance? What feeling am I avoiding? What fear is trying to speak to me?
When these moments of resistance arise, try whispering a small affirmation to yourself that has changed my life: All I have to do is start.
Here’s what I do when I’m feeling that way.
How to Start Writing a Poem
1. Start with a context title.
This title offers context to what is about to follow. Pick an oddly specific place. Maybe a city, an intersection, or a car. (Someone, please write about falling in love in a vintage teal pick up truck, please.) Then, discover an abstract feeling or event. Now tie them together, and voila! You’ve got a context title. Here are a few examples to get you started.
Midnight Confessions at the Corner Bodega
When We Lost Ourselves at the County Fair
At the Pier, Waiting for Apologies
Finding Closure Somewhere on the L Train
While the City Sleeps, I’m Unraveling in YellowCab 4377
Under the Ferris Wheel, Counting Regrets
Falling Apart in Frankie’s Late-Night Diner
Where Route 66 Meets the Pacific, I Forgave Myself.
Ending my Marriage at a 7-11
This is a great way to start a poem because it offers a gentle container for the poem to live in. A bathrobe for the poem to wrap itself in. Sometimes, these soft boundaries can help creativity far more than the open road.
If a few title ideas are all that come to you today, I’m so proud of you. Make sure to save these for another writing session.
If you’re ready to add your first line, let’s go!
2. Then, make your first line a blunt yet intriguing line.
This is where you offer the time (day, hour, week etc.) and what the heck happened at the beginning of the story. The more intriguing, the better. Don’t justify it. Refrain from explanation. Just say it.
This morning, I left my shoes on the neighbor’s lawn.
We finally cracked the safe in your father’s office.
Tonight, I shaved my head in the kitchen sink.
At noon, you poured gasoline over the garden we planted.
Last week, we traded my guitar for a carton of eggs.
This evening, I buried my watch under your porch.
Earlier today, I found your voice inside an old cassette tape.
At sunrise, we stood silent in front of the locked church.
Last night, you broke my glasses on the boardwalk.
Yesterday, I sold our wedding rings at a gas station
3. Break the first line to create *tension*.
Okay now that we’ve got a first line. Let’s break that sh*t up!
Break your line where it will create the most tension. Each line should make sense as a solo phrase and together as a sentence. Read the examples below. The first one is an excellent example of how the enjambment (the line break) begs the reader to discover the meaning of the first line.
Each line makes sense on its own but strung together, a whole new meaning is discovered. This is my favourite type of enjambment. And when it’s done well, it is *chef’s kiss*.
Earlier today, I found your voice
inside an old cassette tape.
This morning, we shot
fireworks into the reservoir.
Yesterday, I sold our wedding rings
at a gas station.
You have two lines—look at you go! Ready for more?
Poet, I’m not abandoning you here! I’ll walk you through the following lines of your poem and, finally, how to finish the poem. This content, along with the full in-depth video taking you through your entire poem, is available for all paid subscribers. Consider becoming a paid subscriber to access this lesson and have a fool-proof antidote to writer’s block in your back pocket.