August 18th is my favorite holiday: Bad Poetry Day. The best thing about it? When you shake off the restraints of “good” writing, you sometimes get “great” writing. So let’s write some bad poetry! (I know it sounds stupid, but I promise you won’t regret it.)
The Exercise
Write the worst poem you possibly can. Keep it under ten lines. It can be about your current work in progress or about the object directly to your left right now or about anything at all.
Then write another bad poem. And another.
Aim for ten, because by that point you’ll truly have shaken the rust out and will be feeling freer. But if you want to write more, write more. That’s it. That’s the exercise.
If you like what you come up with, share the results with a friend or on social media, preferably paired with a 2010-era aesthetic tumblr-type photo. It heightens the whole experience, trust me.
If you want some more specific prompts, try out some of these:
Write a poem using the title “a short series of thoughts” and make sure those thoughts are random and ridiculous.
Think of the stupidest, weirdest, and most oddly specific metaphor you can, then extend it past the point of absurdity. When you think you can’t go any further, keep going. Try starting with “we go together like…” “today I feel like…” or “my beloved is like…”
Pick an object. (Or a character.) That’s your title. Then write a short, two- or three-line rhyming poem that explains the title in a weird way.
Write an over-the-top ode to something weird and unimpressive. Think “ode to a toenail clipping” or “ode to a dog-eared page.” Make it lofty and pretentious, get as purple as possible.
Pair two or more unalike things and write about the way they relate. The stupider and more specific, the better.
The Purpose
Even if you’re primarily a prose writer, writing poetry—even bad poetry—can unlock a part of your brain focused on details, specificity, and musicality that might get underutilized when you’re busy thinking about plot and character. I make a habit of writing poetry at least once a month just to keep my prose feeling fresh.
Writing intentionally bad poetry, though, not only unlocks that poetic part of your brain, it shakes off the shackles of perfectionism and performance and lets you be silly and weird. And in the silly and weird is where you’re going to find aspects of your voice you might otherwise be neglecting: unexpected metaphors, fresh turns of phrase, new ways of thinking about something, words or ideas you might not normally combine, unique takes that only you could have come up with.
Especially if you follow the prompts I provided, writing bad poetry will also help you with specificity of detail—taking metaphors too far and forcing yourself to rhyme or write ridiculously over-the-top lines will push you past the writing ruts you usually fall into, past the same old details and phrases you always use, and into something new and fresh and interesting that your readers will love.
Should you use these poems word for word in your book? Probably not. But giving your brain a break and trying something new will open up new possibilities in your writing that you can use going forward.
Plus, writing bad poetry is just fun. So celebrate Bad Poetry Day with me and try your hand at a few deeply terrible poems!
Happy writing!
Kristen Sommers 