Write Your Way to Fame
Have you ever thought about how nice it would be to see your poem discussed in the New York Times? Think you have what it takes to become a famous poet? Well the unfortunate truth is that no one has what it takes to be a famous poet. Here's a little exercise: Name the most famous contemporary poet you can think of. Louise Gluck, Frank Bidart, and Maya Angelou, are all well known poets, but did you even know who all of them were?
Mainstream America has no interest in poetry and so your biggest audience, as a poet, is going to be other poets. Even Maya Angelou had to write novels in order to place herself in the who's who's list of poets. Poets have to have day jobs. Even Pulitzer Prize winning poets are essentially awarded a day job along with the esteem and money that comes with the prize.
Now then, if you still aim to be a published poet, despite the lack of fame or wealth you will receive for your endeavors, there are a few things you can do to boost your "career." Considering the fact that your biggest audience will be poets, you might need to establish a name for yourself within that circle.
Get subscriptions to well know literary journals. Keep your poetic eye on the kind of poetry that these journals publish. When you find a reputable journal that publishes poetry that compliments your poetic style, find out how you can submit your poem to this journal.
Submitting poetry to literary journals is an art in itself. Always pay particular attention to the guidelines and be sure to follow them to the last letter. If and when your poetry is published, be sure to pay attention to the rights. You might not be able to submit the same poems to another journal.
All right, then your next step will be to submit poetry to other journals, and since you've been published before, you can put that in your biography. You are now establishing a history of getting published in reputable journals. The more you publish, the higher you can go, see?
You can also try your hand at publishing chapbooks and asking local bookstores if you can do poetry readings to help you sell them. Self-publishing, which is how you publish your chapbooks, is more common and helpful for poets than it is for traditional novelists. The reason for this is that the consumer very rarely seeks after poetry. You might consider publishing your books and chapbooks after developing a history of getting published by literary journals.
Finally, don't count out the power of the Internet Super Highway. Create a website for yourself that attracts the poetic community. Advertise your website and try to boost up your site's Google rating. Once you do this, you have a great marketing tool for your self-published chapbooks and poetry books.
There are many ways, some not even mentioned in this article, for you to establish yourself as a poet. Just remember that it might be a slow, and at times, arduous journey that rarely yields wealth and fame.
Devrie Paradowski is a freelance writer and poet. Her poetry has been published by several literary journals and she has written dozens of articles for various publications including "Poetry Renewal Magazine," and "Poetryscams.com." She is the author of the chapbook, "Something In the Dirt," which can be found at http://www.lulu.com/content/108560 . In 2001, Devrie founded a popular online literary community ( http://www.LiteraryEscape.com ) that has become highly respected for some of the most honest and in-depth poetic critique on the Internet. In keeping with her commitment to inspire amateur writers to hone their skills, she also founded a local writer's group called, "The Fire and Ice Writer's Group."
MORE RESOURCES:
 New York Times | In a Poetry Event's Title, Fuel for Debate on a Slur New York Times Sandra María Estevez is participating in El Museo's poetry series, although she dislikes its title. Now that word forms the title of a poetry series — “Spic ... |
 Sydney Morning Herald | Politics needs poetry – so hooray for Herman Van Rompuy guardian.co.uk First let me say this: on balance, I would far rather that people in politics were writing poetry than not. Where are the poets in the House of Commons? ... Profile: Herman Van Rompuy: eu's new president ROMPUY ROMPS IT Herman Van Rompuy's Greatest Hits |
 Times LIVE | Brown professor wins national poetry award Providence Journal AP / Tina Fineberg The night before he won the National Book Award for poetry for his experimental work, “Transcendental Studies: A Trilogy,” ... Providence Poet Wins National Book Award Novelist Colum mccann wins book award Colum mccann wins major US fiction prize |
 Spicezee | GCU resonates with Faiz's poetry Daily Times Prof Dr Nabeela Kayani of the English Department presented a paper, describing Faiz as a pillar of Urdu poetry. Faiz rejected fascism, she said, ... Faiz's poetry - a beacon of light for oppressed GCU pays tribute to Faiz “Faiz was a revolution who is evergreen” |
Pick-Up Lines In Rome: Sexual Harassment Or Poetry? Huffington Post (blog) It was a beautiful summer day and that sentence was a joyful verse of poetry. I wasn't at all offended by it: it felt more like a serenade rather than a ... |
Poetry with a passion Honolulu Advertiser This was the venue for October's First Thursday Slam Poetry event. Over 25 poets read their work. Poems ranged from graphic to heart-wrenching to beat ... |
Poem of the day – Death of a little girl StarNewsOnline.com A PLACE FOR YOU TO SHARE YOUR POETRY, ANYTIME, ANYWHERE. Welcome to our online community of poets! I am an aspiring poet myself and would love for us to ... |
Cowboy poetry gathering at Whitman center Grand Junction Sentinel Two days of poetry, music and stories will fill the Whitman Education Center for the Grand Junction Cowboy Poetry Gathering. The Museum of Western Colorado ... Cowboy poets gather for weekend performances |
Provacative PR hosts tea-tasting and poetry event The Daily Titan A Spot of Josephine and Jane, a tea-tasting and poetry event, will be held this Sunday at the MUZEO, an Orange County museum. ... |
bad poetry a hit CU Columbia Spectator The Philolexian Society kicked off the 24th Alfred Joyce Kilmer Bad Poetry contest tonight to celebrate the shameful pleasure in good bad poetry. ... Bright life in US inspires Amherst poet In Litchfield, Poets Are Gathering |
Because of You
You are to me my lifelinemy security.That scares me.
A Different Place...
I wish we had met 20 years ago..
A Happiness Poem
If a happiness poem could bring forth a smile, Then my face would always dress in style.If my ears could hear my computer screen,From one to another, they, too, would grin.
Ballade of an Inca King
Ah! Leave the gold, wealth and landSays the Inca King?;In Spain, they leave the bustling streets,For sail to Peruvian shores;The murmur of the gold is sweet,It glows and glistens like the sunA mountain of gold, or the graveAwaits the human, Inca-god?!Spaniards sing their songs of victoryWhere breaks the green Peruvian sea;Who now, worships the Inca King (?) Guarded behind prisons doors-?They chatter about his golden ringsThey watch the winds cross the shores?They count the days that idle by,For gold they worship and will die.Envoy.
Why I enjoy Writing?
During interviews and general conversations with the public,one of the most difficult questions for me to answer(timely and thoroughly) is,"Why do you enjoy writing"?So due to the challenge manifested in such a question,I pondered on creating an answer. Many reasons came to mind,but after digesting much"time for thought",I managed to condense my response to three items.
The Time Has Come and Buzzing
Most of my poems are written late at night, often, as this one was, after I have turned out the lights to go to sleep. It seems that is the time when I am most creative.
Sleep, Dreams, and a Poem
The Incubus' Flash-lightHe looked inside my headAnd found a dreamHe didn't like-;As I looked back at him,I found an incubus Shinning a light(and stole this poem fromhim-last night).Thoughts: Dreams and Poetry: in dreams we let go of our inhibitions; in poetry we write them back out.
The Man Who Could Not Say Sorry For His Sins
Sorry would be a start.Though you cant take back your mistakes, and you cant unravel time,you'd think there would be remorse, for such a self serving crime,to send others out to die, to pay the blood price you have decreed,when its purely posturing and posing, all about vanity and greed,to secure a perceived niche in history, glowing down the years,is the extent of your ambition, is the puny limit of your fears,when those you have sent to die, believing implicitly in you,leave relatives behind who see, that nothing you said was true,there is no thought now for those, whose number you dont count,they are yesterdays forgotten, though daily they still mount,no thought of resignation, no apology to those left behind,just onward with the ego, fast forward from those times,as if nothing ever happened, as if your lies are quite ok,as if now is what to focus on, and then was another day,lost back in the mists of time, obscured by clouds half seen,not an affront to the living, not impeachable and obscene,you may want to move on now, and ignore your past infamy,but you should be tried for treason, and jailed for blasphemy.
Mechanical Poetry - Part Three
Have you ever read the lyrics of a Simon and Garfunkle song? Pure poetry. Want to write poems like that? Start copying them.
Poetry in Turbulence
To many non-specialists of literature, poetry is deeply unsatisfying. There are several reasons for this, but two in particular come to mind.
The Ballad of: Brawling Mad-dog Sergeant Rook [Now in: SPANISH and English]
English VersionA bunch of us guys in the hutIn ?NamWere playing cards, singing songs;In a solo-room, back of the hutLay mad-dog, Sergeant Rook;And watching from a distanceWas his sidekick, Corporal Cook.When out of the night, he wantedTo fightThis bully of six-foot-twoDog-drunk, smelling like a skunkI wanted to fight him too.
Give Me a Lily Pad & The Continuum [two Poems]
What can I do to keep this world in its orbital spin?I gave up trying to win the hearts of the many-.Throw the meat-balls against the wall, stop, stop!!Trying to make them spin, like God did in the heavens!Sexual longings-a pathway to anger and rage-Turn the page to the cheap hotels, turn the pageGive it a pathway to run, tell your friends, they've won.
The Game of Life
When your life becomes unbearable And the light of promise ceases to glow, When all your dreams and aspirationsLie dormant on ambition's death row.When you feel that all is hopeless, Life troubles just seem to abound.
Thank You To Our Soldiers And A Tribute To Old Glory And A Prayer For Peace
Thank youDedicated to soldiers and their loved onesFor those who have laid in fox holes,carried guns,marched for hours.For those who have had cold sleepless nights,endless days of discomfort.
Tale of the Brick Maker, of San Jeronimo, Peru [In English and Spanish]
Tale of the Brick Maker, Of San Jernimo, Peru[A Cup of Sorrow]-1In the Andean mountains, within theMantaro Valley region of Peru, Isolated, secluded, tranquil, is the littlevillage of San Jernimo.Near the village, here lay the fertile valleywith bent-grass, and hugeMountains stretching northbound,And heading towards the ocean's coast.
Memoirs of a Wastelands Rim [a Poem: now in Spanish and English]
Memoirs of a Wasteland's RimIt still was light when she paused at the wasteland's rim-Over, the rim rest like a sleeping brute, a wooden frameAdjacent to the blue where early stars hung like oil lampsHanging from old beams and shade?the wooden frameHer footing caught the beams, as she had fallen onto itAlone, she watched the forenoon, climbing around herA drifter woman, marked by life, and slanting dreams With appearance of hurt and molded muscle on her faceHer figure etched against the wooden frame,She tried to jump, and lost her balance, hanging like a birdNow sipping the gloom in the ledge and shattered hopesShe yielded before the sluggish advance of sunsetBlood dripped, with her dying darknessAnd a crimson moon hurled a flame acrossThe shadowy clouds, burning throughout the skyThe tormented sky above her?Crossing the valley's floor her eye gripped itRocky images, highest pointsThrusting herself up boldly from to the ledgeThe painted morning blushed over the rimHer brows and nose, face against the granite stoneMassive injuries was taking form,Her silhouette floating so indolently across the sunIt was too great a task-to die alone?she wished nowShe had not jumped?a thousand feet below, yet to go.Too much for any woman in a lost worldOut of the weak wood her mind had peace; She knew soon it would all be over-alasMute and protesting against life's uselessnessA narrow path lay below her slender bodyBetween death and attainment, a careless footThe rocks beneath her weakening, she plungedPlunged to her death, in the carving hands of the valleyThinking of it, as she fell, thinking with a smiled,Saying, looking up-dead before her echoes: 'Time is short?time is short?time is short!'When they found her, her face was unafraid of falling.
Biography of Charlotte Bronte
Charlotte Bronte (1816 -1855) Novelist and Poet.Charlotte was the daughter of the Rev.
Life is a Fantasy
LIFE IS A FANTASY!A pink-eyed rabbit, fuzzy whiteHops in bedrooms filled with frightA child of six with much to knowHer father's basest feelings showShe knows of LOVE, only through himHe satisfies his every whimHe leaves, she wipes himfrom her chin!Her mother NEEDS to see the bestHe answered her God requestTo have a roof to comfort bringA yard where all the birdies singTell me how she could really knowWhat source for learning could she go?Her mother regularly beaten if not worseThe cycle of violence - a woman's curseConflicting visions, dependenciesOne can endure many idiosyncrasiesShe could not make him defendant beDenial, avoidance? she disbelievesThe rabbit hides beneath tall trees.At thirteen a step-grandfatha'Finds a well-trained girl that oughta'Do what powerful men requestNever knowing what is bestAnd run away she does at lastFreedom can be such a 'blast'A rabbit's foot upon a chainThe FANTASY her 'safe' domainHow long in life must it remain?To protect her from these menWho always for her lips, do 'yen'A state trooper in Tennessee Like every other man does see Her lips so full and luscious red Through the bars, not in a bed.
Poetry in a Nutshell
Poetry is more than just rhyming and prose that is in meters and verse. It is an art form.
Catherine Daly reviews Antidotes for an Alibi
Amy KingAntidotes for an AlibiBlazeVox BooksISBN 0-9759227-5-02005These poems read to me like poetry versions of flash fiction. Now, I like flash fiction very much, but I like the more fabulistic kind.
