What is Poetry? Poetry is a type of writing that is hyper-focused on word choices and rhythm, and it often uses rhyme and meter (a set of rules around the number and arrangement of syllables in each line). In poetry, words are strung together to form sounds, images, and ideas that might be too complex or abstract to describe directly. Poetry is sometimes meant to be read off a page, so the way words are arranged visually can vary from what looks like a paragraph to what looks like a list to what looks like a pattern or image. Each choice the poet makes about how they place their words on a page can impact the way the reader reads it. So those choices need to be intentional. ​ Sometimes poetry is meant to be recited out loud by the poet. So how the poem is read or performed is as important as how the poem is written. This kind of poetry can often be heard in Poetry Slams. ​ To help get you started, read on to learn more about different kinds of poetry and see how you can start to write your own. You will find several links to read and/or hear various poems and poets, and find links to other helpful resources, as well as some activities to try! Before You Start There are a few concepts to understand before you read on. We have created videos to help you with these concepts. You can pick and choose the videos you want to explore before you start or during your review of the material. Freewrite is currently available. Videos for brainstorming, prompts and creating word banks are coming, ​ Freewrite: In creative writing, we do a lot of free writing. It's a "free" type of writing that gets your creativity flowing. The following video describes what it is in more detail. Example Poems To start, here’s a list of poems to read or experience that will get your creativity flowing before you start writing your own. A couple of questions to ask yourself for further thinking are included after each link. (Important note: There are no right and wrong answers to these questions! They are simply provided to help deepen your thinking about what you are reading and hearing.) : Dance, dance, dance by Princess Moo: (scroll down to where you see the title, dance, dance, dance ). What did you notice about how the words appear on the page? Did anything surprise you? Why do you think some words are italicized? Why do you think the poet chose not to capitalize her sentences? Hearing That Joe Arroyo Song at Ibiza Nightclub , 2008 by Elizabeth Acevedo: What did you notice about how the words appear on the page? How did that arrangement impact the way you read the poem? If you could speak to the poet, what questions would you ask? Had My Parents Not Been Separated… by Porsha Olayiwola: In this video, we hear the poet read their poem out loud to us. How did it feel to have the poem read to you instead of reading it yourself? I Wonder What Ricky Martin Is Doing Right Now by Anthony Febo: This time we hear and see and hear the poet perform their poem at a Poetry Slam. How did experiencing the poem like this impact you as the audience? What did you notice about the poet’s body language while he was performing? Did it add to or take away from the poem, in your opinion? Queer Brown Planet by Amanda Torres: Even though the poet is writing in what could be considered science fiction, what real life experiences does she share with her audience? Why do you think she chooses to share real life experiences in this way? What impact, if any, does the audience response have on your experience of the poem? Types of Poems There are many different poetry forms with their own rules and styles. With so many forms, it can be a little intimidating especially if you are new to poetry. So, we suggest you begin with these to get a feel for the possibilities: ​ Rhymed Poetry Rhymed poetry uses a “rhyme scheme” to create a specific rhythm and meter in a poem. Rhyme can be defined as “the repetition of similar sounds at the end of a word.” Rhyme scheme can be defined as “the pattern of rhyming words at the end of each line of a poem.” Watch this video to see how this works in action. Haiku Haiku (俳句 pronounced high-koo) is a short three-line poem that usually follows a 5-7-5 syllable structure. Haiku poetry was originally developed by Japanese poets, and is often inspired by nature, a moment of beauty, or a poignant experience. Haikus are meant to be read in one breath to feel the full affect. For more on haiku and some ideas to get you started, click here . Free Verse Free verse is the name given to poetry that doesn’t use any strict meter or rhyme scheme. Because it has no set meter, poems written in free verse can have lines of any length, from a single word to much longer. Most poets writing today write in free verse. For more on free verse, click here . Try writing at least one of each to get you started. If you want to learn more, you will find a list of types of poetry here . Take your time to read through these types of poems. Find which ones you gravitate toward the most. Find examples of these forms written by poets that you like and read, listen, and take notes. Ask yourself why certain poems and poetry styles attract you? Is it about the words? Message? Rhythm? All of the above??? You can learn a lot about yourself as a writer by reading other writers’ work. Now You Try! Read the following prompts. Pick one and freewrite your response. (Remember, the process of freewriting to a prompt or a topic is a good way to get you started.) Think about how you are feeling right now. Are you happy? Bored? Nervous? Excited? Once you are aware of how you are feeling, write about anything at all in your mind for 3 minutes. This is also known as a freewrite. Then, reread your freewrite after the time is up. Circle stand out words or phrases you wrote and arrange them in a way that makes sense to you. Then turn those words into phrases or sentences to create a poem. Pick a specific moment that stood out to you this week. Create a “Word Bank” full of action words, emotions, nouns, and phrases that describe this moment in as much detail as possible. Arrange the words from your Word Bank in a way that makes sense to you. Then flesh out those words into phrases or sentences to create a poem. Write a poem about what your name means. It can be as long or short as you would like, free verse, rhymed, or haiku, but share the history of your name and what it means to you. Use Random Word Generator . Go to the site, type in the number 5 in the number of words box then click on Generate Random Words to get a list of words. Use as many of those words as you can in a poem. You can look up the meaning of any words you might know know at Dictionary.com . ​ Feeling inspired? Here's another site that has 22 poetry prompts to help you write your next great poem! Want more? Here are a Few Poets To Enjoy Find your favorite poets and pay attention to their process, themes, and style. This can help you develop a process and style that works for you. Here are a list of some poets to look into: ​ Natalie Diaz: Natalie Diaz is the Maxine and Jonathan Marshall Chair in Modern and Contemporary Poetry at Arizona State University. She is Mojave and an enrolled member of the Gila River Indian Tribe. Porsha Olayiwola: Black: Writer. Performer. Futurist Marcus Wicker: Marcus Wicker is the author of Silencer, poems that address gun violence and police brutality against African Americans. Adobo-Fish-Sauce : Adobo-Fish-Sauce is an active choice to celebrate in the face of bitterness. It is responding to “Go back to where you come from!” by bringing where they are from right to you. Javier Zamora: Javier Zamora was born in La Herradura, El Salvador in 1990. His work explores how immigration and the civil war have impacted his family. Amanda Torres: Write. Educator. Cultural Organizer ​Emmanuel Oppong-Yeboa : Emmanuel Oppong-Yeboah is a Ghanaian American poet living out the diaspora in Boston (Massachusetts). Elisabet Velasquez: Elisabet Velasquez is a Brooklyn Born Boricua. She is a mother of two. ​Her poems are an exploration of her life. Eve L. Ewing: Dr. Eve L. Ewing is a sociologist of education and a writer from Chicago. Button Poetry: Button Poetry is committed to developing a coherent and effective system of production, distribution, promotion and fundraising for performance poetry. ​William Nuʻutupu Giles: William Nuʻutupu Giles is an afakasi Samoan writer and arts educator from Honolulu, Hawaiʻi. Native American Poetry and Culture: Explore a multitude of Native American Poets. Denice Frohman : Denice Frohman is a poet, performer, and educator from New York City. ​ ​ These are so many wonderful poets out there, so this is only a small list. Go explore then when you are ready to write your own poems, submit them here! ​ ​ Are you ready to submit a poem? Upload your poems here!

I am the Lamb ​ By Verónica Zambrano Esquiuel I am the lamb I can see the trap You are the lion Just looking who is the next on your map I can see your lies I know your intention You only want to hunt And I never have your attention ​ You just like copper When you can have gold I don't know what you are thinking But now my love is old ​ I'm looking around Seeing you disappear in the shade Feeling my soul shine Forgetting the promises you made ​ I'm going to stop waiting for you I have give you lots of hints I have lost my mind But now my body is not marked by your fingerprints

Tags: Boricua, Puerto Rico, women, reggaeton, Ivy Queen

Hannah's Project Go Back to Inspired By ... 2024 Project List

Meet Hannah Richo Hannah Richo is a recent graduate of the studio for Interrelated Media program at the Massachusetts College Of Art. Her practice focuses on ideas of home and family, exploring how the spaces we inhabit interact with and are affected by our cultural backgrounds. She values community building through the art of storytelling and uplifting marginalized voices. Hannah has a love for the horror genre and her literary inspirations are Toni Morrison, Quan Berry and Carmen Maria Machado. Experience Hannah Richo's work I’ve always been interested in the concept of a home. It is, to me, a space that is very alive, filled with our own personal rituals. I wanted to stretch the meanings of home and family, utilizing stereotypes from family sitcoms and tropes from the horror genre. To me, this project is an exploration of genre, I love blending nostalgia with darker concepts, and delving into the topic of girlhood and all of its contradictions. I was stuck, for a while, in the process of conceptualizing, and trying to make sense of my ideas. One thing that always hinders my creative process is the idea of format and structure, I was very stuck on a particular structure and fitting my writing in a box. Worried it would be difficult to understand otherwise. This led to quite a bit of scrapping and starting over, and being over critical. Getting rid of structure and format altogether was what helped to start loosening the tension I had surrounding this piece. Letting the words and language determine their own structure. Basically taking a hammer to the entire piece and moving around all of the broken fragments. I think really playing with the idea of what it means for a space to be haunted, what is a haunting, how does it manifest, pushed me forward in conceptualizing my project. What really inspired this particular piece was the idea that we, in our day to day lives, haunt every space we inhabit. We leave marks everywhere we go, changing, mutating every room we enter. Hauntings, in horror movies and books, are extremes. I thought, in passing, as a teenage girl, you exist to haunt your father’s home. A haunting is a persistent disturbance, and a teenage girl, constantly changing, is persistently disturbing, whether it be physically or atmospherically, her father’s home. Actively contesting and contradicting it. From there I was able to really piece things together. This as well as, beginning to describe this writing to myself as body horror, where the body in question is the home. I really enjoyed the freedom of being able to write without a set format or style in mind, I liked being able to delve really deeply into a subject matter, creating a strange amalgamation of poetry and short story writing and having the comfort of being able to share it in a non-judgmental space. Click Me

Tags: Parenting, police, police relations, Black families, white families

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Lana's Project Go Back to Inspired By ... 2024 Project List

Tags: Boricua, Puerto Rico, el general, Panama, reggaeton

The 1619 Project The 1619 Project is an ongoing initiative from The New York Times Magazine that began in August 2019, the 400th anniversary of the beginning of American slavery. It aims to reframe the country’s history by placing the consequences of slavery and the contributions of black Americans at the very center of our national narrative. Click on image to take you to site.

TUN Fellow Adesuwa Olumhense ​ For her fellowship project Adesuwa wrote a series of poems focused on her family and culture. The numbers were added to replicate page breaks in the original submission. ​ (1) ​ Trace a hesitant finger back to your genesis Do you remember your first breath Your grandmother’s first sigh Your sister’s first laugh? Do you remember when it all fell apart? ​ (2) Foreword By: Adesuwa Olumhense ​ Because rocky road drips a tacky lie down my fingers And good things do not always come to those who wait, my father says. Because if you tug your curls down long enough Soon they’ll look just a bit straighter. Because when you’re old enough to sit and wait until your scalp catches fire It means the perm is working. Because straight hair shines brightly Until it breaks off into space. Because you will repeat your name until your throat dries And they still won’t hear you. Because your brothers march out the door on a one-way trip And your sisters murmur their bloodsoaked litany. Because my brothers are their father’s sons And my sister was born a mother. Because ‘someday’ is written in a tongue my grandfather will never learn And my grandmother refuses to speak. Because when I ask my mother “Will the sunflower’s neck snap if the sun is too far from view?” She waits for the world to answer. (3) ​ Edo terms Kpele - Sorry Ebonekhui - A white person in a black person’s body. The nickname the people around Benin City gave my grandfather. Iwu - Body markings of the native Edo people, accomplished by tattooing or scarification. There were facial markings and body markings. Women would also paint their faces for traditional rituals. In the past 60 or so years, this tradition has almost completely died. Oba - the king of the ancient Benin Kingdom, now in modern day Edo state in Southern Nigeria. The current Oba is the descendent of the ancient kings. Iyoba - A title for the King’s mother. Translates as “Queen Mother.” One of the most important Iyoba in Edo history is the Iyoba Idia who fought on the battlefield in ancient times, for whom the title was created. Ogbono - African bush mango seed. Used especially in Southern Nigeria for soup. Òy' èsé - “It’s okay. (4) Kpele By: Adesuwa Olumhense “It’s not personal,” Ebonekhui starts, standing tall and proud in clothes your father would scoff at. His English burns your ears. He will not meet your eyes until the ceremonial paint is gone So you turn, head high for all who care to see your light And you wash. When your tears clear the paint all that remains on your naked face is your iwu. And he cannot remove the marks that hug your skin Kiss your face You turn, smile, and greet your nieces Tell them the story of each curve in every scar. If their history cannot live on their face, It must burrow its home in them somehow. “It’s for their safety,” Ebonekhui claims quietly, void of apology. "We won't eat sacrifices." Your arms wilt in the kitchen bags of packaged food dangling at your sides. Do you tell him? The blessings you murmured over the stew Can be heard at the Oba’s own table. Do you tell him? You plucked the ogbono seeds for the soup yourself Stood in the kitchen for hours Stirring and singing your mother’s favorite songs Do you tell him? As you look at his daughter’s grinning faces Full of joy and devoid of the markings the Iyoba wore with pride. It’s not your God who grew this food, you want to shout. It’s not your Queen that fought our wars. Does your God know our language? Could your God sing our songs? Does it matter? Because there you both stand stuck between the powers that be and the powers that bend. The truth flails on the wrong side of your tongue And you pity it. So you swallow, smile, and say “Òy' èsé.” (5) ​ God’s Gift Adesuwa Olumhense ​ She no longer walks on coals, but she still tempers her steps. She walks a slow, trembling gait, aware of each toe that hits the earth, murmuring to the grass her apologies. She walks, and watches as you take your first step, your fourth, your ninth, into the pure madness that is freedom. Freefall. She pauses, mouth stretched wide to warn as the sink gathers a dish overnight, then a pot, but the drums of war have not started. Her world is buzzing, not from hands, not from names, but from the vertigo of the rollercoaster’s climax. And this is peace, the far echo of a mourned lullaby, the warm brush of sheets on a bed you bought with your own money. This is peace, as the kitchen gathers forbidden spices and flavors, as you create your own recipe for life’s magic, splatter it across nonstick pans on a Wednesday evening and call it art. (6) ​ One last secret Adesuwa Olumhense ​ Do not fear; The child inside you never died. She wanders, barefoot, through your veins Hikes up your back as you section your hair just to slip down the slide of your spine in the shower She mimics your silly faces at each baby on the street Stumbles right beside you to pronounce ingredients in the African market Asks the questions you don’t dare voice aloud. If you listen just right to the wind and its laughter You’ll hear her, giggling right back. (7) ​ Forward By: Adesuwa Olumhense Your world did not end in one day. When the fabled day passed, no white flag was thrown. The mourning doves chirped quietly to themselves. Instead, you face this 3 am version of you husk and human Paper skin wrapped around crackling bones gripping your shaking knees It ends like this: When they pull your fingers back To tell you that you should watch your figure So you shove your hands into your school uniform (you weren’t that hungry anyway—) When they say your skin will burn and blacken in the sun Too dark, too dirty, too ugly And you wrap yourself in shade and sorries. Like this When they pull your hands away from the steering wheel For your brother to push forward. “Save his pride,” your father says. “His little sister cannot drive first.” When you can no longer bear to make silly faces in the mirror So you turn away from your sun. When you look into your mother’s face And a thousand ghosts stare back. ​ Your world did not end in one day It will not restart in one either. ​ What is the cure for a lifetime spent dancing with the dark? When it begins again Your world will not start with a pale dawn. You scream your way to a new beginning Vision blurred, fists trembling And new truths buzzing under your tongue Your first battle, a distant “no,” You barely hear yourself Your opponent rears back from the blast And a part of you yearns to do the same You lay by the beach read the words of your sisters Until your skin matches the deepest of soils And it is no longer sin, but sacred But still, sometimes, you tremble A mosaic of misery That 3 AM version of you creeps back Hugging shaking knees to a heaving chest But never forget the wonder of watching ivy crawl up the garden wall For the versions of you, bruised, trying, grieving Countless hands clenched tight on a near forgotten daydream Your world did not end in one day It will not restart in one either. But on the nights where you continue your dance with demons On the nights where demons leave and you continue your dance alone Remember this. With each step, know your aunties smile that little grin, bright enough to make their iwu glow Know your grandmother hides her laugh in the cloud of palm oil smoke Know your sisters will turn to greet the mirror like an old friend (Like you, dearest, like you) And smile. (8) When they say “Get over it” By: Adesuwa Olumhense ​ You must never claim the sins they shoved under your skin. A jagged gift tastes of terror. A Trojan weapon will not outgrow its design. But when you remove the rot, excavate the essence of your soul Free from weight, full of grief, drenched in promise You will pull gravel from the depths of the spirit Pebble by pebble, tear by tear Shadow screams at sunlight, and the shards will try to take you with them. You must fight! From the depths of the ruin, with the strength of one thousand ‘cans’ to their army of ‘cannots’ From the blackest tunnels they left you in You must fight, because you have waited your entire life to bloom. Shadow screams at sunlight, and the shards will not give in. But you tend the gravel, coax it from your rich soil. Call each bit of rubble by name and set it aside. For the Sun has always resided in you And what is Earth, but an immeasurable beginning? The light will shower its rays of wishes And you, dear heart, are the heir to it all. ​ (c) Adesuwa Olumhense 2023 for The Untold Narratives

Before submitting, here are things to know. Stories that have all of the following will be prioritized: They elevate a little-known person or fact that counters a popular understanding They focus on a historically excluded group, giving a different perspective or side of a story They feature new voices from underrepresented identities, situations and realities. They do not perpetuate stereotypes or hate of any group. It will take 2-4 weeks to let you know whether your submission has been accepted. If you have any questions, please email info@theuntoldnarratives.com . Thank you for sharing your work! Are you ready to submit your story? Submit here! Submit Thanks for submitting!