Coda
The last piece of music, the last stanza, the last closing remark. It’s December, and that means it’s time for the last poetry slam. This year we didn’t focus on forms as much as techniques – I hope everyone learned something to take away, even if it’s not for your poetry. These techniques all work in prose, too.
I’ve had a lot of fun writing these slams for the past five years, starting with the dare in the Coffeehouse that kicked it all off (tritinas, that was, lo these many Decembers ago). Together we’ve explored old and new forms, and new-to-us rules for old forms we thought we knew. I’ve read so many example poems, and discarded so many more because they were just bad examples in one way or another: either they broke the rules accidentally because the original author was unfamiliar and clumsy with the form, or they broke the rules precisely and deliberately in ways that you shouldn’t do unless you’re deeply familiar and deft with the form – and explaining the difference would have been nearly impossible.
I’ve loved teaching the slam as a free, informal class, and it always made my day to see a writer trying something new. But not as much as I loved finding the little Easter eggs of those efforts in their later work. If this was your first introduction to poetry, and I was able to make it a little easier, take a little pressure off, and offer encouragement? I’m glad.
As YeahWrite closes its formal grids, we’re discontinuing the formal poetry slams. But don’t worry – there are workshops in the, er, works, and you’re always welcome to throw down the gauntlet in the Coffeehouse to see if anyone wants to join you in trying out one of the forms we’ve already explored. After all, with five years’ worth of slams, surely you’ll find something that intrigues you?
In the meantime, let’s run down what we tried in 2020. I know at least one person has had a poem inspired by one of this year’s slams published. If yours makes the cut, let us know!
- January: Line breaks. Poetry is more than just hitting “enter” a lot. Line breaks are like punctuation, and every poet needs to know how to use them effectively.
- February: Subverting metaphor. How do you keep a metaphor from becoming a cliche? You set up the reader’s expectations—and then turn them on their head with an unexpected metaphor.
- March: Internal rhymes. Rhymes don’t always have to fall at the end of a line. Check out different ways to use internal rhymes to make your poems sing.
- April: 13 ways poem. Take a single subject, and look at from a number of different angles—in this case, thirteen.
- May: Repetition. Many forms of poetry rely on repetition for emphasis, structure, or perspective shifts. Learn some of the common ways to make use of this technique.
- June: Series. Experiment with poems written in a series of independent stanzas that still tell a cohesive story.
- July: Anchors. Connect with your reader by anchoring your poem to a particular time or place.
- August: Consonance. A sister technique to alliteration and assonance, consonance is the repetition of certain consonant sounds anywhere within some words, enough to be noticable.
- September: Persona. Become someone—or something—you’re not by taking on a particular persona and writing in the first or close third person point-of-view.
- October: Homonyms. Explore different categories of words that are the same – or almost the same – and learn how to re-use them in your poetry in different ways.
- November: The volta. Whether you call it a volta, turn, tornado, or envoi, the result is the same. This final stanza changes the reader’s understanding of the entire poem—just like a punchline.
Well. I guess that’s it, then. But don’t worry. You can still check out the last five years of poetry tutorials in our poetry slam archives!
See you in the Coffeehouse!
About the author:
Rowan submitted exactly one piece of microfiction to YeahWrite before being consumed by the editorial darkside. She spent some time working hard as our Submissions Editor before becoming YeahWrite’s Managing Editor in 2016. She was a BlogHer Voice of the Year in 2017 for her work on intersectional feminism, but she suggests you find and follow WOC instead. In real life she’s been at various times an attorney, aerialist, professional knitter, artist, graphic designer (yes, they’re different things), editor, secretary, tailor, and martial artist. It bothers her vaguely that the preceding list isn’t alphabetized, but the Oxford comma makes up for it. She lives in Portlandia with a menagerie which includes at least one other human. She tells lies at textwall and uncomfortable truths at CrossKnit.
