In the final installment of this 3-part series, we will discuss how limiting the use of abstractions in your poetry can be beneficial. This technique – in my opinion – is more important than the first two techniques we’ve discussed (meter and rhyme) because it deals directly with content and imagery.
The Relationship between Poetry and Abstractions
Like any other piece of literature, there are probably some poems you enjoy reading more than others. As readers, the poems we generally find the most mesmerizing are those that describe an abstract idea without using actual abstractions in the vocabulary.
Abstractions are ideas or concepts that aren’t physically tangible (e.g. life, death, love, loss, etc). While abstractions make excellent subjects of poems, using abstractions in the actual content typically results in a weaker poem.
In other words, if a poet writes about nostalgia, he or she won’t necessarily use the word, “nostalgia” in their poem. They probably wouldn’t even describe that as the emotion being felt by the speaker either. In other words, the poet wouldn’t say, “the adult missed childhood,” or “the adult wished he could go back in time and be a child again.”
That’s boring, and boring equals snoring.
A good poet – and a good writer, for that matter – uses concrete descriptions that involve the five senses (e.g. touch, taste, sight, smell, and auditory).
Let’s look at an example. Although the following paragraph I’ve written is not poetry, it still illustrates how the five senses can build better imagery in writing.
“I remember sitting in the velvet, floral-patterned armchair with a warm blanket tucked about my shoulders as I sipped my hot cocoa. The scent of homemade bread baking in the oven wafted in from the kitchen, mingling with the sound of Grandmother’s humming and the clamor of clanking pots and pans.”
- Touch: velvet (texture), warm (temperature), hot (temperature)
- Taste: cocoa
- Sight: floral-patterned
- Smell: baking bread
- Auditory: grandmother’s humming, clanking pots and pans
Okay, so that might have been a bit long winded, but you get the idea. It’s a simple abstract idea – nostalgia, maybe homesickness – described by concrete descriptions or sensations.
Now that you have seen a good example, let’s take a look at what not to do.
The following shoddy stanza I intentionally, and painfully, wrote with the purpose to show you what to avoid in your writing.
In the following lines, take note of the abstractions (I’ve italicized them for your convenience).
my memories of you are disappearing,
and I am lost in sorrow
without you
I want to turn
turn back
to that precious moment
when you still loved me.
your love was … yadda yadda yadda
You have probably seen this style of poetry before, as this type of writing is fairly common on social media outlets. Now, I am not by any means ragging on those who post their poetry on social media. In fact, I have seen some lovely poems on Pinterest and Instagram. That being said, there are far more poor-quality poems on social media than there are of those that are well-written, with the obvious reason being that anyone capable of clicking the “share” or “post” button can publish their work, regardless of their skill and experience in that craft. Anyone can make a social media post and call it poetry, but as to whether or not it is actually ready for publication is an entirely different matter. I digress.
Returning to the analysis; what makes this last piece so terrible?
- There are several abstractions
- One of these abstractions is used twice
- More importantly, there’s not a single description that appeals to the five senses
At this point, you may be wondering, “Why is that so important?” or “Are you saying I can’t ever use abstractions?”
Should Abstractions Be Used in Poetry?
It’s not that you can’t use abstractions; in fact, there are times when it’s incredibly difficult to leave out abstractions. Yet, if you have more abstractions in your writing than tangible descriptions, you risk your work failing to shape vivid imagery. This style may be fine for ramblings in a diary, but it doesn’t make quality literature. Your readers’ minds are canvases, and your poetry should paint a clear picture for them. Providing details does more than just explain what’s happening, it helps the reader experience what the speaker of the poem is communicating.
To better understand this, let’s examine the previous example, line by line.
“my memories of you are disappearing,”
Okay, but what memories are disappearing? Is it the memory of whether the hue of the person’s eyes were grey or blue, or is it the texture of your ex’s favorite, red sweater?
“and I am lost in sorrow”
There are better ways to illustrate being lost or experiencing sorrow. Why not show the speaker of the poem fumbling through their daily tasks? Are they spacing out more (e.g. washing the same dinner plate two to three times because they’re so lost in thoughts they can’t focus, etc)?
“to that precious moment”
Describe this moment. Show a happy memory; whether it’s a barbeque, or strolling down a park lane and getting caught in the rain, etc.
“when you still loved me/ your love was…”
Again, the occasional use of an abstraction is alright. Even using a few abstractions can work as long as the poet adds concrete descriptions for support (we’ll look at an example of this in a moment); however, using the same abstraction multiple times and in close proximity doesn’t
typically work well.
Another noteworthy item in regards to abstractions and vocabulary is that abstractions often lack a certain weight, especially the word “love.” “Love” is used so liberally – especially in western culture (e.g. I love those shoes, I love your hat, I love you, etc) – that it becomes almost redundant and loses the intensity of its definition. Poetically, it’s far more powerful to find another way to communicate love, without actually using the word – or at least, not using it too often.
For instance, if a poet wants to inform the reader that a hard-working, single mother is loved and respected by her children, the poet probably wouldn’t say “her children loved her.” Instead, he or she might describe the exhausted mother coming home to a clean house with dinner already in the oven. This communicates a great deal more, and helps form an effective picture in the mind of the reader.
When Should You Use Abstractions
Having discussed the reasons why abstractions should be avoided, let’s now look at how they can be incorporated without weakening the poem.
To best illustrate this, let’s look at one of Elizabeth Bishop’s poems, “One Art.” In this example, I’ve italicized some of the abstractions (with the exception of “write,” which was already italicized in the original poem) and placed the descriptive illustrations in bold font.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
“One Art” by Elizabeth Bishop
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.
—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
Bishop’s poem is filled with the repetitive use of abstractions – loss, losing, disaster, etc. – but it reads incredibly differently than the previous example, doesn’t it? The reason for this, aside from the use of rhyme and meter, is that Bishop’s abstractions serve a purpose. They form a question in the reader’s mind: what did she lose?
Bishop then answers this question: door keys, her mother’s watch, three loved houses, two cities, two rivers, and a continent.
But what truly makes this poem meaningful is that ultimately, in the last stanza, the reader learns that the loss the speaker is referring to is actually the loss of a relationship.
Now imagine if someone wrote this in a lazy manner without any tangible descriptions (another shoddy few lines I made up to create an example of what to avoid):
Losing you
Was the hardest loss
I’ve ever lived through
It doesn’t take much time or talent to create that last, three-line stanza, but it takes a poet to create something on par with One Art.
In Summary: Show, Don’t Tell
It all comes down to one of the most basic creative writing rules: “show me, don’t tell me.” Whether you’re writing poetry or a novel, this is an excellent rule-of-thumb. For novels, it means letting the characters’ dialogue and actions speak for themselves, and for poetry it means using concrete, tangible descriptions. Again, this doesn’t mean you should never use abstractions, but rather, by being selective in both the use and placement of your abstractions you can ultimately strengthen the quality of your writing.
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