How to read poetry

You will hate poetry if you don’t know how to read it.

Or, at least, you will like fewer poems than you would if you knew how to read it.

But you don’t have to love all poetry. I don’t.

The key to poetry—reading or writing it—is to never force it. As I stated in my poetry class the other day:

You cannot write with the answer.

Similarly, in reading it:

You cannot read thinking you have all the answers.

Be open.

The best way for me to help you read poetry is to tell you how I read poetry, with some tips I’ve picked up along the way plus standard protocol for poets in the biz.

1. Just read. Pick up whatever collection you might have or be interested in and read. There is no pressure at this stage to read anything that doesn’t draw you in. Don’t force it. Just read until something gives you pause. It’s okay if you read several before something stops you. You could even read titles and or first lines if you wish, but poems are short, reading all the way through each poem won’t harm you, and it will give you more than if you expect every poem to blow your mind. If you force it, you won’t receive what the poet is trying to offer you.

2. When something gives you pause, stop. Slow down. This is the point to start paying attention. It could be anything from

• how the poet grouped certain words
• a description that makes you stop and want to take it in
• any line or stanza that brings to light some new truth that you’ve
never thought of before

Just read the part a few times. If something more strikes you as you read it over, great, but if not, it’s okay to move on. This is just an opportunity to slow down your hectic world and get more out of something that may seem so small and simple to the harried eye.

3. After you’ve taken a short pause, continue reading the poem all the way through. At the end, stop another moment, and just let it seep in. In that short amount of time, from the opening to the close of the poem, what did you get out of it? Did you get anything? Do you think that whatever lay between the title and the last line was complete?

• How did it make you feel?
• What are some thoughts it made you think?
• Was there a theme/impression it left?
• If you could summarize the poem in a few words, what would they be?
(You could even take a few words or lines from the poem that you think
define the poem.)

4. Now read back through the poem after you’ve asked yourself these questions and settled on a theme. As you go back through, see if everything you just read fits the theme you’ve given it. Make note of places where maybe it doesn’t, and highlight anything that you believe reaffirms your theme, or speaks to your theme strongly.

5. At the end of your second or subsequent read-throughs, ask yourself: Is my theme consistent with the poem? If there are lines that do not match up with your impression, ask yourself two things:

• Could there be a meaning, metaphor, or other poetic device the poet is using that I might be misreading?
• Could there be another theme, different from mine, that I am overlooking because I am getting in the way of the poetry?

This second question is the key to art: empathy. Putting yourself in the place of the poet. Removing your beliefs, opinions, perceptions so you can see the world from another point of view. Are there, even, any experiences and truths from your own life that maybe you’ve forgotten or buried that make you think this poem is about something other than what the poet may have intended?

At this point, you can read the poem as often as you like until you feel you have discovered the secret to the universe the poet has tried to reveal.

But again, don’t force it. If you’ve tried, and you keep getting the same thing from the poem, it may not speak to you. Take from it what you can—whatever it was that stopped you during the very first read-through.

If it’s beautiful language, keep those lines with you to inspire your own writing.

If it was a description, use it to remember the beauty you didn’t see in the world before.

If there was a new truth revealed, try to perceive your everyday a little differently than you did before you found those lines.

And if nothing else, be grateful for this piece of honesty, vulnerability, and beautiful writing that someone was brave enough to put out into the world.

Check out my Poetry Pays campaign:

POSTPONED: Public Poetry Reading!

I’ve been working on compiling some of my best poems for a book—but before I publish, I want to have a reading to share a few with you.

Tuesday, August 8 at 12 PM – 2 PM

WeWork Custom House

220 NW 8th Ave, Portland, Oregon 97209



First-ever poetry reading with just @peggyperduepoet.

I’ll be outside the WeWork building on the sidewalk (public space!) reciting my poetry, whether anyone’s there to listen or not. But I really hope you’ll come to listen! During your lunch. On your errands. Taking a stroll. I’d love to see some familiar faces in the crowd, but I hope to have all sorts of new ones too.

I want to make poetry for the people, who it’s always been for. Not academics. Not for the pretentious. It’s not classist. I want so badly to change how we see poetry, and how it can affect our lives.

Come experience poetry one of the most powerful ways it can be!

Check it out on Facebook.









Can you hear me?

Do you see

what I say?


How can you speak if you are not silent?

And if you speak, how will you ever hear the silence of others?

The great and haunting echoes of truths untold?






Can you hear them?

The veins of

Beating Hearts?


They are in you, every last one of them.

The streams of stories spilt over earth.

The dirt in your skin, salt of your pores.


The voices without go in,

The voice within, all around.






Can you hear?


Check out my Poetry Pays campaign:

On the shoulders of all

I shrug
… and the world falls

I shrug

in unknowing


and the world


off my tired

aching shoulders


Check out my Poetry Pays campaign:

the rain

tip tap
click clack

the soundtrack to a rainy day in portland

the piano is the song of the rain
the typewriter the song of my brain
my music has always been the rhythm,
the “wave of the mind”
the shards of ivory keys
liquid drops of dead elephants
the silent tapping of fingers
that create fluid notes that pound the ears
deafening silence of an internal struggle
a world
us all


Check out my Poetry Pays campaign:

These lives we follow

This is the life we follow.

A choice we’ve made not to lead.

To live what life others give us.

To take and want and despise them.


because we chose

not to please ourselves,

but others.

And so we blame

all others.

We waste the time others carve us.

Trudge through the work others hand us.

We feed off food they’d never eat.

Buy the clothes they made for us.

Dream the sleep of not enough.

This is the life we follow.

A life not lived, hollow.


Check out my Poetry Pays campaign: