Poetry is an art which allows us to explore our inner and outer worlds with the most creative use of language possible. Poets combine words in ways that in other forms of writing might seem nonsensical, inappropriate, or at least grammatically incorrect. We may write in incomplete sentences, choose whether or not to use form or rhyme, and put voice to unusual and unlikely ideas: how the color red smells, what sound a dandelion makes when someone steps on it, or what anger tastes like.

As poets, however, we do have an imperative to choose each word carefully. Word choice can significantly alter the tone, imagery, and entire experience conveyed by a poem. The following are a few tips that can help poets become more aware of the power of judicious word choice:

• Play around with pronouns
• Use the senses
• Avoid cliché
• Imagine senses and objects in unusual ways
• Edit

1. Play Around with Pronouns

To begin, let’s put together the opening of a poem. For our first line, we’ll use:

I watch the sun set.

There is nothing wrong with using the pronoun “I.” It is a very useful word, and sometimes the necessary choice. But if you notice that your work nearly always begins with “I” or is written in the first person, take some poems and rewrite them using another perspective: “he,” “she,” “we,” or even “you” can entirely alter the energy and intent of a poem.

Consider our phrase—“I watch the sun set.” Here, we have the speaker of the poem telling us what he or she is doing. If we write, “You watch the sun set,” we have a speaker watching someone else as he watches the sun. Now we have two people in play: the speaker watching the person who is watching the sun. This adds immediate complexity to the poem’s experience. Will the speaker be writing about “you,” “the sun,” or both? Is the poem possibly about a relationship?

“He/She watches the sun set” is similar to “you” in that there are two people implied: the speaker watching someone else watching the sun. However, it is not as personal as “you.” There is less of a connection implied between a speaker and a “he” or “she.” If the speaker addresses a “you,” there is more urgency in the tone; the speaker feels compelled to address this person directly.

“We watched the sun set” provides a mystery as to how many people are involved—we only know there are more than one—and implies a connection between the speaker and the other person or people. They are all, including the speaker, watching. Be sure to choose the pronoun that best suits the intent of your poem. Each offers a different entry into the poem, and therefore a different tone and expectation.

2. Use the Senses

We have five senses: sight, touch, hearing, smell, and taste. When writing, it is helpful to explore as many of the senses as possible. Smell and taste in particular are underused.

Let’s continue with this:

She watches the sun set.

What else might “she” be sensing as she watches the sun? Perhaps she hears the final few bars of a bird’s song, or the first rough, high notes of a cricket. If she is sitting in the grass, the coolness of the earth might make her shiver. Maybe she is brushing her fingers over a few soft dandelions. She could be chewing on a bit of honeysuckle, relishing its small sweetness, or catching the faint aroma of leaves being burned by a neighbor two blocks away.

The amount of detail you use determines the speed of the action: the more words used to add detail, the slower the action. You might want the entire poem simply to describe a moment, replete with imagery and sensual detail; but you may also include a great deal of information in a small number of lines by choosing your words carefully.

Let’s look at one possible example based on our work so far:

She watches the sun set, and

her fingers gently brush the

bright green grass

as she breathes

the faint aroma of

burning leaves.

There are three senses present in six lines: sight, touch, and smell. With a little reworking, we can use fewer words and change the tone of the poem:

She watches the sun set.

Her fingers brush gentle grass;

faint, burning-leaf scent

finds her breath.

In the first example, “she” is the subject of all the action. In the second example, we get rid of an unnecessary adverb—“gently”—and create a new subject for each sense: “She,” “fingers,” and “scent.” This way, we see the watcher being a bit carried away by her environment. She seems less in control and the poem’s tone is more ambiguous and mysterious.

3. Avoid Cliché

It is easy for familiar, well-worn words to find their way onto the page. If your poetry contains a lot of phrases such as “strong as an ox,” “clear as crystal,” or “she broke his heart,” you might want to rethink what specific experience within the poem these words want to convey.

In our example, we have been using a cliché: “she watches the sun set.” What is useful about a cliché is that it is readily understood by a great number of people. The concept of the sun “setting” gets the general idea across very quickly. Cliché can be used in poetry if the writer wants to use it for satirical purposes or to subvert its meaning; but it is not specific or descriptive, and that can sap the energy from an otherwise fine poem.

Examine your poems thoroughly and mark any lines or phrases that strike you as too familiar, too general, or something you’ve heard a thousand times in your life. Is there a reason to keep a cliché in? What purpose do you have for using it? How does it add to the poem’s intent? If you don’t have a particular reason for using a cliché, ask yourself what idea specific to the experience of the poem you want to express.

How do we rework a cliché? “She watches the sun set” may seem perfect at first; after all, we all know what it means. However, it tells us nothing about the person or the sensation of her particular experience. What exactly is she doing? That is up to the poet. The best way I know to rework a cliché leads us to the next section:

4. Imagine Senses and Objects in Unusual Ways

“She watches the sun set.” The sun is “setting” on the horizon. Inherent in this imagery is the sun as a static, solid object in control of itself—it is doing the setting. What if the sun were a liquid? We could write, “The sun melts,” or “drips,” or “liquefies,” or “stains” the horizon. What if the sun were a gas? Perhaps it “dissipates” over the horizon, or “suffocates” it. Notice how quickly the tone of the poem changes from neutral (“the sun sets”) to threatening “the sun melts”—will it return tomorrow?) to deadly (“the sun suffocates the horizon”).

We think we know the color or colors of a setting sun, but let’s think as specifically as possible. For example:

She watches as

the yellow-orange sun

melts into spreading hues

of indigo and green,

staining the dusty blue sky.

Now our imagery creates a more complicated tone. The colors are radiant and beautiful, but the words “melts” and particularly “staining” carry threatening connotations of finality and danger. The sun is in control; “she” at this point merely observes.

These examples deal with only the sense of sight. Now let’s stretch our imagination even more. What does the sun smell like? What if the sun were cold instead of hot? What noise does a setting sun make?

How about:

She smells toasted air;

the sun burns the sky

from blue to brown.

Or:

She watches the icy sun in its

slow-motion crash;

shards of orange and purple

pierce the horizon.

Or:

She listened as the sun sang

a luscious tune in

mezzo-soprano before

waving a yellow goodbye.

By now you can see there is no end to the way imagery and the senses can be used in a poem. It all depends on the tone you wish to set.

Let’s get just a bit more picky with our description. “She watches” does not tell us very much about our subject. Maybe her eyes could be the subject:

Her eyes absorb

the melting orange sun.

Perhaps this:

Her eyes catch the shards

of purple and orange

breaking away from the

icy, orange sun.

Or this:

Her eyes melt to tears

to see the sun lower itself

from crystalline yellow

to orange-red

to purple-blue

to dusky brown

to starry nothing.

There are so many ways to “watch.” Which would you choose?

5. Edit

By all means, when the muse visits and you are scrambling to write down words before they escape your brain, simply write. Don’t worry about tone, imagery, subject, and everything else we’ve discussed here. Getting your words onto the page should be your singular focus when you’re writing a first draft. Don’t let your internal critic stop you from writing.

Once that is done, and you have something on the page, edit. Here are a few tips to help you become a vigilant editor:

• Be serious about editing. Be ferocious and don’t be afraid to cut out anything that does not add to the experience of the poem.

• Sniff out cliché like a bad food in a refrigerator. Think all around the imagery and senses that might be used.

• Show your work to other readers and writers of poetry and listen to them. Never, ever get defensive. Listening does not obligate you to take their advice. Even if someone says, “This is terrible,” you can say “Thanks for the input” and move on.

• Join a workshop. Workshops provide motivation to write and a sense of community with other writers.

• Read poetry. Get your hands on some small press journals and poetry collections and familiarize yourself with what’s out there. Reading a lot of good poetry will help you write good poetry.

The tips offered here are guidelines, not unbendable rules. They are meant to help the poet stretch his or her imagination and become more aware of how powerful language can become when we combine judicious word choice with fresh ideas. Remember, the most important thing about writing a poem is to write it. So get started!