Welcome to National Poetry Month, readers. I know poetry can be daunting, boring, tedious, pretentious…basically all the adjectives that make reading feel like a chore rather than a pleasure. I’m not necessarily here to convince anyone to read poetry this month, but I do believe that there’s a poem or poet for everyone, much like I know theres a book for everyone—even those who profess to not like reading.
So today, I’m walking you through three of my “methods” for reading a poem. I hold these methods loosely, mixing and matching as I see fit. To illustrate each method, I’ve included a corresponding Billy Collins poem. The guy loves to write about his own profession and, as a poet, the images he uses to craft the feel of a poem are perfectly rendered.
So why read poetry?
There’s not one right reason to read poetry. This is a highly personal and subjective question, but I find that having an answer to that question helps me approach a poem. I read poetry to be struck by beautiful language, to feel deeply, to engage my creative brain, to find resonant human experiences across time, and to exercise my analytical reading skills.
I don’t typically decide what reading method I’m going to utilize before I begin reading a poem, rather I feel that certain poems pull me towards a certain reason and method. I find there are typically three different ways I approach a poem depending on whether my primary goal is to appreciate, to interpret, or to explicate.
To appreciate - “Japan”
Today I pass the time reading
a favorite haiku,
saying the few words over and over.
It feels like eating
the same small, perfect grape
again and again.
In Collin’s (surprisingly sexy) poem “Japan,” the narrator spends an entire day saying a haiku in different ways—loudly, softly, to himself, to his dog—and each time he says or thinks the poem, he notices something new about it. This is the perfect illustration of how I like to read a poem when my main aim is to appreciate it.
The Appreciate Method
Read the poem silently.
Read the poem aloud.
Put the book or screen down, and carry on with your day.
(At some unspecified later time) read the poem again.
That’s it…truly. I don’t agonize over it and don’t think too hard about it. I simply spend a few moments in a single day living with the poem. If words or images from the poem continue to percolate in my mind, I may return to it another time or two that day. I’ll mark the page and some day after I’ve forgotten all about it, I’ll open the book right to it and be struck anew by the language.
A few excellent poems to appreciate:
Good Bones by Maggie Smith
Harlem Sweeties by Langston Hughes
Wild Geese by Mary Oliver
To interpret - “Taking Off Emily Dickinson’s Clothes”
The complexity of women’s undergarments
in nineteenth-century America
is not to be waved off,
and I proceeded like a polar explorer
through clips, clasps, and moorings,
catches, straps, and whalebone stays,
sailing toward the iceberg of her nakedness
Listen, I don’t know if “Taking Off Emily Dickinson’s Clothes” is intended to be an extended metaphor for interpreting a poem, but there are no right answers in reading and that’s the fun of it. This poem is lovely because as the narrator literally uncovers Emily, they notice the smallest details of her dress and adornment, but don’t share what lies beneath.
I like to think of interpreting a poem that way—of noticing the tiniest details, holding them tenderly, moving through the writing “like a polar explorer” forging my way to my own conclusion.
The Interpret Method
Read the poem aloud.
Read the poem silently. This time stop and in some way mark any words, phrases, or images that are striking, unusual, beautiful, or rife with meaning.
Sit with those words and phrases. How would the poem feel different if the poet had chosen different words? What emotions do the images bring forth?
Read the poem again. Consider any unifying ideas coming up in the poem. What might the poem be “about” beyond the images?
Reassemble the poem by reading it through one more time.
When I’m interpreting, I don’t want to get caught up in what I don’t understand. Instead, I focus on the small details of the poem that are in some way calling out to me. Maybe I’m surprised by a particular word the author used or a certain image evokes a strong emotional reaction. By tuning into those elements, I can start to investigate the poet’s choices and consider what effect those choices have on me, the reader. Then I try to interpret how these details work to make up some sort of unifying idea—is this a poem about grief? Power? Nostalgia? Longing? After settling on a unifying idea that feels true to my experience with the poem, I read it one more time to reassemble it and appreciate it in full.
A few excellent poems to interpret:
Patterns by Amy Lowell
American Smooth by Rita Dove
Kin by Maya Angelou
An American Sunrise by Joy Harjo
To explicate - “Introduction to Poetry”
But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.
They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.
“Introduction to Poetry” bemoans the desire students and teachers have to really “get” a poem. I appreciate his distaste for this type of reading. I don’t read many poems this way and I certainly wouldn’t ask my students to. But I’m sorry, Billy, sometimes I want to “torture a confession” out of my poetry and that’s my prerogative as a reader.
This is reminiscent of the type of reading many of us did (and hated) in English classes, going line by line attempting to unlock—almost translate—the poetic language. Since I’m no longer writing paper-length explications, I’m not super rigorous and I don’t worry about coming up with particularly deep or creative analyses. Instead, I think of explicating poetry now as a form of play and a way to exercise my close reading muscles.
The Explicate Method
Read the poem aloud.
Read the poem silently. This time stop and in some way mark any words, phrases, or images that are striking, unusual, beautiful, or rife with meaning.
Consider the connotation (associated ideas and feelings) of the marked words and passages. What are these words communicating beyond their dictionary definition?
Read the poem again. This time mark anything confusing and write questions in the margins Additionally, mark any unfamiliar words—look up those words.
Read the poem again. While reading, keep those confusing moments and questions in mind. Attempt to posit answers while reading.
Read the poem again. While reading, choose a few lines or stanzas and write a rephrasing of each in the margins.
Determine a unifying idea of the poem and mark the words, phrases, and images that contribute to that idea.
Write down any lingering questions and mark any parts of the poem that remain confusing.
Reassemble the poem by reading it through one more time.
This is an extension and expansion of what I do when I’m interpreting a poem. In addition to considering what catches my immediate attention, I try to focus on passages I don’t understand and see if I can work towards greater comprehension. Marking up the parts that confuse me and trying to write specific questions is hugely helpful—I find that crafting a good question is the first step to understanding. Sometimes it can be hard for me to formulate a question beyond “what does this mean?” When that happens, I ask “how would this line be different if the author had used _____ word instead of _____ word.” While I try my best to answer all of my questions through my multiple readings of the poem, I also find it valuable to end with questions rather than answers. I always told my students that good reading leads to more questions than answers, and I really do believe that.
A few excellent poems to explicate:
Ode on a Grecian Urn by John Keats
Little Red Cap by Carol Ann Duffy
Coal by Audre Lorde
Alright, readers, I hope you enjoyed learning how I read a poem, as told by three Billy Collins poems. I’d love to know what poems you love and if you have any go-to strategies for approaching poetry, so please comment below with your thoughts!
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-Sara
Thank you for this!
I’m a big fan of Pablo Neruda. I particularly like, “Walking Around.” The imagery, the cadence, it all works beautifully.