poetry assignment grade 8

Free Printable Poetry Worksheets for 8th Grade

Poetry: Discover the beauty of language with our free printable Reading & Writing Poetry worksheets, tailored for Grade 8 students. Enhance your teaching experience and inspire young minds to explore the world of verse.

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Explore printable Poetry worksheets for 8th Grade

Poetry worksheets for Grade 8 are essential tools for teachers looking to engage their students in the world of reading and writing. These worksheets provide a variety of activities that not only help students understand the structure and elements of poetry but also encourage them to develop their creative writing skills. By incorporating fiction writing exercises, teachers can inspire their students to explore different styles and themes, ultimately fostering a love for literature. Grade 8 poetry worksheets also offer opportunities for students to analyze and interpret various poems, allowing them to delve deeper into the meaning and emotions conveyed by the poet. With a focus on reading and writing, these worksheets are designed to enhance students' critical thinking skills and overall language arts proficiency.

Quizizz is an excellent platform for teachers to supplement their poetry worksheets for Grade 8, offering a wide range of interactive activities and assessments. With Quizizz, teachers can create custom quizzes that align with their lesson plans, ensuring that students are engaged and challenged throughout their reading and writing journey. In addition to quizzes, the platform also provides resources such as flashcards, polls, and collaborative challenges, allowing teachers to diversify their teaching methods and cater to different learning styles. By incorporating Quizizz into their curriculum, teachers can effectively monitor their students' progress in reading and writing, as well as fiction writing, and provide targeted feedback to help them excel in their Grade 8 language arts studies.

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Poems for 8th Graders

Table of contents.

• Speak Kindly by Kate Slaughter McKinney
• We Wear the Mask by Paul Laurence Dunbar
• Sonnet 43: How Do I Love Thee? by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
• Remember by Christina Georgina Rossetti
• The Charge of the Light Brigade by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
• The Angel of Marye's Heights by Walter A. Clark
• Barbara Frietchie by John Greenleaf Whittier
• O Captain! My Captain! by Walt Whitman
• The Dying Soldiers by Anonymous
• The Happiest Heart by John Vance Cheney
• When Milking-Time is Done by Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
• Maid of the West-Land by Robert J. C. Stead
• The Sod House on the Prairie by Ellen P. Allerton
• My Old Prairie Home by Ed Blair
• Crossing the Bar by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
• Comparison by Paul Laurence Dunbar
• A Sculptor by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
• Autumn by Ruby Archer
• Old-Fashioned Letters by Edgar A. Guest
• Song of the School Bell by John Edward Everett
• The Old Cane Mill by Nellie Gregg Tomlinson
• Threshing Time by C. L. Edson
• In Flanders Fields by Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae

Speak Kindly

Speak kindly in the morning, When you are leaving home, And give the day a lighter heart Into the week to roam. Leave kind words as mementoes To be handled and caressed, And watch the noon-time hour arrive In gold and tinsel dressed. Speak kindly in the evening! When on the walk is heard A tired footstep that you know, Speak one refreshing word, And see the glad light springing From the heart into the eye, As sometimes from behind a cloud A star leaps to the sky. Speak kindly to the children That crowd around your chair, The tender lips that lean on yours Kiss, smooth the flaxen hair; Some day a room that’s lonesome The little ones may own, And home be empty as the nest From which the birds have flown. Speak kindly to the stranger Who passes through the town, A loving word is light of weight— Not so would prove a frown. One is a precious jewel The heart would grasp in sleep, The other like a demon’s gift The memory loathes to keep. Speak kindly to the sorrowful Who stand beside the dead, The heart can lean against a word Though thorny seems the bed. And oh, to those discouraged Who faint upon the way, Stop, stop—if just a moment— And something kindly say. Speak kindly to the fallen ones, Your voice may help them rise; A word right-spoken oft unclasps The gate beyond the skies. Speak kindly, and the future You’ll find God looking through! Speak of another as you’d have Him always speak of you.

We Wear the Mask

We wear the mask that grins and lies, It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,— This debt we pay to human guile; With torn and bleeding hearts we smile, And mouth with myriad subtleties. Why should the world be over-wise, In counting all our tears and sighs? Nay, let them only see us, while We wear the mask. We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries To thee from tortured souls arise. We sing, but oh the clay is vile Beneath our feet, and long the mile; But let the world dream otherwise, We wear the mask!

Sonnet 43: How Do I Love Thee?

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of being and ideal grace. I love thee to the level of every day's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.

Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land; When you can no more hold me by the hand, Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay. Remember me when no more day by day You tell me of our future that you plann'd: Only remember me; you understand It will be late to counsel then or pray. Yet if you should forget me for a while And afterwards remember, do not grieve: For if the darkness and corruption leave A vestige of the thoughts that once I had, Better by far you should forget and smile Than that you should remember and be sad.

The Charge of the Light Brigade

Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. “Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns!” he said. Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. “Forward, the Light Brigade!” Was there a man dismayed? Not though the soldier knew Someone had blundered. Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die. Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front of them Volleyed and thundered; Stormed at with shot and shell, Boldly they rode and well, Into the jaws of Death, Into the mouth of hell Rode the six hundred. Flashed all their sabres bare, Flashed as they turned in air Sabring the gunners there, Charging an army, while All the world wondered. Plunged in the battery-smoke Right through the line they broke; Cossack and Russian Reeled from the sabre stroke Shattered and sundered. Then they rode back, but not Not the six hundred. Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon behind them Volleyed and thundered; Stormed at with shot and shell, While horse and hero fell. They that had fought so well Came through the jaws of Death, Back from the mouth of hell, All that was left of them, Left of six hundred. When can their glory fade? O the wild charge they made! All the world wondered. Honour the charge they made! Honour the Light Brigade, Noble six hundred!

The Angel of Marye's Heights

A sunken road and a wall of stone And Cobb's grim line of grey Lay still at the base of Marye's hill On the morn of a winter's day. And crowning the frowning crest above Sleep Alexander's guns, While gleaming fair in the sunlit air The Rappahannock runs. On the plains below, the blue lines glow, And the bugle rings out clear, As with bated breath they march to death And a soldier's honored bier. For the slumbering guns awake to life And the screaming shell and ball From the front and flanks crash through the ranks And leave them where they fall. And the grey stone wall is ringed with fire And the pitiless leaden hail Drives back the foe to the plains below, Shattered and crippled and frail. Again and again a new line forms And the gallant charge is made, And again and again they fall like grain In the sweep of the reaper's blade. And then from out of the battle smoke, There falls on the lead swept air, From the whitening lips that are ready to die The piteous moan and the plaintive cry For "Water" everywhere. And into the presence of Kershaw brave, There comes a fair faced lad, With quivering lips, as his cap he tips, "I can't stand this," he said. "Stand what?" the general sternly said, As he looked on the field of slaughter; "To see those poor boys dying out there, With no one to help them, no one to care And crying for 'Water! Water!' "If you'll let me go, I'll give them some." "Why, boy, you're simply mad; They'll kill you as soon as you scale the wall In this terrible storm of shell and ball," The general kindly said. "Please let me go," the lad replied. "May the Lord protect you, then," And over the wall in the hissing air, He carried comfort to grim despair, And balm to the stricken men. And as he straightened the mangled limbs On their earthen bed of pain, The whitening lips all eagerly quaffed From the canteen's mouth the cooling draught And blessed him again and again. Like Daniel of old in the lions' den, He walked through the murderous air, With never a breath of the leaden storm To touch or to tear his grey clad form, For the hand of God was there. And I am sure in the Book of Gold, Where the blessèd Angel writes The names that are blest of God and men, He wrote that day with his shining pen, Then smiled and lovingly wrote again "The Angel of Marye's Heights."

Barbara Frietchie

Up from the meadows rich with corn, Clear in the cool September morn, The clustered spires of Frederick stand Green-walled by the hills of Maryland. Round about them orchards sweep, Apple— and peach-tree fruited deep, Fair as a garden of the Lord To the eyes of the famished rebel horde, On that pleasant morn of the early fall When Lee marched over the mountain wall,— Over the mountains winding down, Horse and foot, into Frederick town. Forty flags with their silver stars, Forty flags with their crimson bars, Flapped in the morning wind: the sun Of noon looked down, and saw not one. Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then, Bowed with her fourscore years and ten; Bravest of all in Frederick town, She took up the flag the men hauled down; In her attic window the staff she set, To show that one heart was loyal yet. Up the street came the rebel tread, Stonewall Jackson riding ahead. Under his slouched hat left and right He glanced: the old flag met his sight. “Halt!”— the dust-brown ranks stood fast. “Fire!”— out blazed the rifle-blast. It shivered the window, pane and sash; It rent the banner with seam and gash. Quick, as it fell, from the broken staff Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf; She leaned far out on the window-sill, And shook it forth with a royal will. “Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, But spare your country’s flag,” she said. A shade of sadness, a blush of shame, Over the face of the leader came; The nobler nature within him stirred To life at that woman’s deed and word: “Who touches a hair of yon gray head Dies like a dog! March on!” he said. All day long through Frederick street Sounded the tread of marching feet: All day long that free flag tost Over the heads of the rebel host. Ever its torn folds rose and fell On the loyal winds that loved it well; And through the hill-gaps sunset light Shone over it with a warm good-night. Barbara Frietchie’s work is o’er, And the Rebel rides on his raids no more. Honor to her! and let a tear Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall’s bier. Over Barbara Frietchie’s grave Flag of Freedom and Union, wave! Peace and order and beauty draw Round thy symbol of light and law; And ever the stars above look down On thy stars below in Frederick town!

O Captain! My Captain!

O Captain! My Captain! our fearful trip is done; The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won; The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring: But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills; For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding; For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; O captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head; It is some dream that on the deck, You've fallen cold and dead. My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still; My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will; The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done; From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won; Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells! But I, with mournful tread, Walk the deck my captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.

The Dying Soldiers

A waste of land, a sodden plain, A lurid sunset sky, With clouds that fled and faded fast In ghostly phantasy; A field upturned by trampling feet, A field uppiled with slain, With horse and rider blent in death Upon the battle plain. The dying and the dead lie low; For them, no more shall rise The evening moon, nor midnight stars, Nor day light's soft surprise: They will not wake to tenderest call, Nor see again each home, Where waiting hearts shall throb and break, When this day's tidings come. Two soldiers, lying as they fell Upon the reddened clay— In daytime, foes; at night, in peace Breathing their lives away! Brave hearts had stirred each manly breast; Fate only, made them foes; And lying, dying, side by side, A softened feeling rose. "Our time is short," one faint voice said; "To-day we've done our best On different sides: what matters now? To-morrow we shall rest! Life lies behind. I might not care For only my own sake; But far away are other hearts, That this day's work will break. "Among New Hampshire's snowy hills, There pray for me to-night A woman, and a little girl With hair like golden light;" And at the thought, broke forth, at last, The cry of anguish wild, That would not longer be repressed "O God, my wife, my child!" "And," said the other dying man, "Across the Georgia plain, There watch and wait for me loved ones I ne'er shall see again: A little girl, with dark, bright eyes, Each day waits at the door; Her father's step, her father's kiss, Will never greet her more. "To-day we sought each other's lives: Death levels all that now; For soon before God's mercy seat Together we shall bow. Forgive each other while we may; Life's but a weary game, And, right or wrong, the morning sun Will find us, dead, the same." The dying lips the pardon breathe; The dying hands entwine; The last ray fades, and over all The stars from heaven shine; And the little girl with golden hair, And one with dark eyes bright, On Hampshire's hills, and Georgia's plain, Were fatherless that night!

The Happiest Heart

Who drives the horses of the sun Shall lord it but a day; Better the lowly deed were done, And kept the humble way. The rust will find the sword of fame, The dust will hide the crown; Ay, none shall nail so high his name Time will not tear it down. The happiest heart that ever beat Was in some quiet breast That found the common daylight sweet, And left to Heaven the rest.

When Milking-Time is Done

When milking-time is done, and over all This quiet Canadian inland forest home And wide rough pasture-lots the shadows come, And dews, with peace and twilight voices, fall, From moss-cooled watering-trough to foddered stall The tired plough-horses turn,—the barnyard loam Soft to their feet,—and in the sky's pale dome Like resonant chords the swooping night-jars call. The frogs, cool-fluting ministers of dream, Make shrill the slow brook's borders; pasture bars Down clatter, and the cattle wander through,— Vague shapes amid the thickets; gleam by gleam Above the wet grey wilds emerge the stars, And through the dusk the farmstead fades from view.

Maid of the West-Land

Heart that is free as the open air, Eyes like the beams of the morn that rise Over our prairies, bright and fair, Brow like the silver of sunset skies, Cheeks with a beauty that glorifies, Tresses of sunlight, through and through, Figure and form that we idolize, Maid of the West-land, here's to you! Hope that is broad as your face is rare, Yearning that unto the uttermost cries, Soul that itself is a breath of prayer, Heaven-sent spirit in womanly guise; Tender caresses that minimize The labors of life with their pain and rue, Loving affection that never dies— Maid of the West-land, here's to you! Courage that rises to do and dare, Spell that entangles the sage and wise From venturesome toe to your crown of hair Ravishing beauties that hypnotize; Many the man for your favor vies, Well may he plead for the favor, too; Twentieth Century's greatest prize— Maid of the West-land, here's to you! ENVOI. Maid of the West, in your wistful eyes, Tenderly deep as the western blue, The glorious hope of our future lies— Maid of the West-land, here's to you!

The Sod House on the Prairie

A low sod house, a broad green prairie, And stately ranks of bannered corn;— 'Twas there I took my dark-eyed Mary, And there our darling boy was born. The walls were low, the place was homely, But Mary sang from morn till night. The place beneath her touch grew comely; Her cheerful presence made it bright. Oh, life was sweet beyond all measure! No hour was dull, no day was long; Each task was easy, toil was pleasure, For love and hope were fresh and strong. How oft we sat at eve, foretelling The glories of that wide, new land! And gayly planned our future dwelling— For low sod house, a mansion grand. Alas! we little know how fleeting The joy that falls to human lot. While unseen hands were dirges beating, We smiled secure and heard them not. One day Death came and took my Mary; Another, and the baby died. And near the sod house on the prairie I laid my darlings, side by side. I could not stay. My heart was weary, And life a load too hard to bear. That low sod house was dreary, dreary, For love and hope lay buried there.

My Old Prairie Home

Dear old home of my youth in the long, long ago, Where the sunshine each morn filled the air, Where the meadow lark rose from the tall prairie grass As it warbled its sweet carols there. Oh I think of that home dear old home far away That was then on the wild prairie wide, Where each night I was tucked in the old trundle bed On the floor by the old fireside. In my fancy I see once again the old home, Dear log house father built long ago, Its steep roof made of slabs and its chimney of stone, With my name roughly carved below. There it stood many years ere another was built On the prairie around anywhere, And its light was a guide to the traveler lone, And its doors ever welcomed him there. There at night music sweet from the old violin Floated out on the sweet, balmy air, While I drifted to sleep in the old trundle bed— Peaceful sleep without ever a care. Oh bring back again the old home of my youth Where the grass rolled like waves of the sea, Where the dear wild flowers bloomed, where the lark sang so sweet, Oh my old prairie home let me see! There the low muffled tone of the prairie hen's mate Floated in from the prairie around, And away in the distance the wild deer roamed free, Then unknown the fierce bay of the hound, And at noon dear Bob White from the hedge piped his strain, Coming night brought the dove's mournful lay, And the song of the cricket and Katy-did rang From the grass till the breaking of day.

Crossing the Bar

Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell, When I embark; For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have crost the bar.

The sky of brightest gray seems dark To one whose sky was ever white. To one who never knew a spark, Thro' all his life, of love or light, The grayest cloud seems over-bright. The robin sounds a beggar's note Where one the nightingale has heard, But he for whom no silver throat Its liquid music ever stirred, Deems robin still the sweetest bird.

As the ambitious sculptor, tireless, lifts Chisel and hammer to the block at hand, Before my half-formed character I stand And ply the shining tools of mental gifts. I'll cut away a huge, unsightly side, Of selfishness, and smooth to curves of grace The angles of ill-temper. And no trace Shall my sure hammer leave of silly pride. Chip after chip must fall from vain desires, And the sharp corners of my discontent Be rounded into symmetry, and lent Great harmony by faith that never tires. Unfinished still, I must toil on and on, Till the pale critic, Death, shall say, "'Tis done."

Autumn...she is tranquil, deeply quiet, With a graceful, even moving; – Ruby Archer Autumn “

When, I wonder, shall I meet her, As I wander through the woodland, Meet the pensive maiden Autumn, With the eyes that look afar? I would welcome her and greet her, Gladly turn to her from Summer, As we leave the garish daylight For a single pallid star. She is tranquil, deeply quiet, With a graceful, even moving; And a benison of silence Falls about her where she goes. Wanton Summer was a-riot With impassioned song and blossom, Gay with glory, heartless ever, With a thorn for every rose. I shall meet the Autumn maiden— Here are signs that she is near me: On the hills a gauzy azure From her veil in gliding by; And her golden-rod is laden— Yellow plumes of starry masses— And the white, the purple asters For her coming footfall sigh. Yet I feel a half regretting For that lavish June-time sunlight, Every hour attuned to warbling, And with bee and blossom rife.— Hie away, and speed forgetting! I will seek my Autumn maiden. Wayward Summer is our dreaming; Sober Autumn—is our life.

Old-Fashioned Letters

Old-fashioned letters! How good they were! And nobody writes them now; Never at all comes in the scrawl On the written pages which told us all The news of town and the folks we knew, And what they had done or were going to do. It seems we've forgotten how To spend an hour with our pen in hand To write in the language we understand. Old-fashioned letters we used to get And ponder each fond line o'er; The glad words rolled like running gold, As smoothly their tales of joy they told, And our hearts beat fast with a keen delight As we read the news they were pleased to write And gathered the love they bore. But few of the letters that come to-day Are penned to us in the old-time way. Old-fashioned letters that told us all The tales of the far away; Where they'd been and the folks they'd seen; And better than any fine magazine Was the writing too, for it bore the style Of a simple heart and a sunny smile, And was pure as the breath of May. Some of them oft were damp with tears, But those were the letters that lived for years. Old-fashioned letters! How good they were! And, oh, how we watched the mails; But nobody writes of the quaint delights Of the sunny days and the merry nights Or tells us the things that we yearn to know— That art passed out with the long ago, And lost are the simple tales; Yet we all would happier be, I think, If we'd spend more time with our pen and ink.

Song of the School Bell

Kind neighbors, you and I are friends. And toiling for the selfsame ends, To help the children wiser grow, And teach them what they ought to know. Day after day, the winter through, I guard your sons and daughters true. Each day at nine I say, "hello", To the youthful world of joy and woe. Each day at nine are loudly sung Clear greetings from my iron tongue, While children rush with romp and race, As though to meet my fond embrace. Then through the hours they ply the mind To see what knowledge they may find— Sometimes with smile and radiant eye, Sometimes with frown and inward sigh. 'Tis now with bright, now downcast, looks They bend their heads above their books. Kind neighbors, you and I are friends. And toiling for the selfsame ends,— To help the children wiser grow, And teach them what they ought to know.

The Old Cane Mill

"What's sorghum?" Don't you know sorghum? My gran'son nigh sixteen, Don t boys know nothin' nowadays? Beats all I ever seen. Why sorghum's the bulliest stuff Wuz ever made ter eat. You spread it thick on homemade bread; It's most oncommon sweet. "Come from?" Wall yer jist better bet It don't come from no can. Jus' b'iled down juice from sorghum cane, Straight I'way 'lasses bran'. "What's cane?" It's some like corn, yer know, An' topped with plumes o' seed. Grows straight an' tall on yaller clay That wouldn't grow a weed. Long in September when 'twuz ripe, The cane-patch battle field Wuz charged by boys with wooden swords, Good temper wuz their shield. They stripped the stalks of all their leaves, Then men, with steel knives keen Slashed off the heads and cut the stalks An' piled them straight an' clean. The tops wuz saved ter feed the hens, Likewise fer nex' year's seed. The farmer allus has ter save Against the futur's need. The neighbors cum from miles erbout An' fetched the cane ter mill. They stacked it high betwixt two trees, At Gran'dads, on the hill. An' ol' hoss turned the cane mill sweep, He led hisself erroun. The stalks wuz fed inter the press, From them the sap wuz groun'. This juice run through a little trough Ter pans beneath a shed; There it wuz b'iled an' skimmed and b'iled, Till it wuz thick an' red. Then it wuz cooled an' put in bar'ls An' toted off to town While us kids got ter lick the pan, Which job wuz dun up brown. Gee whiz! but we did hev good times At taffy pullin' bees. We woun' the taffy roun' girls' necks— Bob wuz the biggest tease. Inside the furnace, on live coals, We het cane stalks red hot, Then hit 'em hard out on the groun'— Yer oughter hear 'em pop! Sometimes a barefoot boy would step Inter the skimmin's hole, Er pinch his fingers in the mill, Er fall off from the pole. When winter winds went whis'lin' through The door an' winder cracks, An' piled up snow wuz driftin' Till yer couldn't see yer tracks, Then we all drawed roun' the table An' passed the buckwheat cakes, Er mebbe it wuz good corn bread. "What's sorghum?" Good lan' sakes. Wall, son, yer hev my symperthy; Yer've missed a lot, I swan. Oh, sure yer dance an' joy-ride Frum ev'nin' untel dawn, Yer've football, skates an' golf ter he'p The passin' time ter kill, But give me mem'ry's boyhood days, Erroun' the ol' cane mill.

Threshing Time

I. There's dew on the stubble and fog in the air, And a red eye peeps over the hill, And a white flag of steam, flaring up with a scream, Has awakened the dull, drowsing doves from their dream On the aged, gray granary sill. And through dew on the grasses and fog in the air, The throng of the threshers is gathering there. With toiling and tugging, and lifting and lugging, They belt the steam engine that's wheezing and chugging— And pitchforks are gleaming and laborers laugh, Preparing to hurry the wheat from the chaff. The smoke and the vapor float over the trees, And a stamping horse rattles a chain; And men with red handkerchiefs looped at their throats Are climbing the mountains of barley and oats, The beautiful Alps of the grain. The smoke and the vapor floats over the trees, And the sun now has routed the fog on the breeze, While creaking and turning and slapping and churning, The belted red thresher has lisped out its yearning— Has mumbled its hunger in mournfulest note, And the first sheaf is ground in its ravenous throat. II. "Look out, fellers. Let 'er go! Pitch them first few bundles slow. Hold on son, don't gash my hands When you're cuttin' off them bands. Wheat's a-spilling. Hey, you Jack! Run that cussed wagon back! Grab a wheel, Bill, help him there. We ain't got no wheat to spare. Wheat's too high now, I'll be bound, To thresh and throw it on the ground. Belts off now! And I just said You boys would get her over-fed. You mustn't try to rush her through; The straw's still tough and damp with dew. When the sun gets two hours high You will find it's plenty dry. All right, let 'er go again; Now we're threshin' out the grain. See how plump them berries is. That's the stuff that does the biz. That there wheat's from college seed Of selected Turkey breed; The land was fall plowed just as soon— All right, boy, she s blowed for noon. Ease her down and hold her steady, Women folks says grub is ready." III. Now the thirsty sun swings lower on his torrid path to earth, And the yellow straw is piling toward the sky. Say, a feller learns at threshin what a drink of water's worth, For it tastes as sweet as cider when you're dry. At last the sun is setting, just a crimson ball of fire, And a coolness all the atmosphere pervades; The stalwart feeder's dusty arms at last begin to tire, And the last sheaf passes downward through the blades. Now the whistle's long drawn wailing is a song of seraphim, And the stars light up in heaven's purple deep; And the smoking and the joking, how it rests the weary limb Ere bedtime ushers in the perfect sleep. IV. The day is over, The world is fed. And the farmer sleeps On his feather bed.

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below. We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields. Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields.

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Eighth Grade (Grade 8) Poetry Questions

You can create printable tests and worksheets from these Grade 8 Poetry questions! Select one or more questions using the checkboxes above each question. Then click the add selected questions to a test button before moving to another page.

• heroic poem
• A man wants to have freedom before it is too late.
• Be patient.
• All people desire freedom and deserve equal rights during their lifetime.
• ABAB CDCD ABBA CC
• ABCD ABCD EFFE AA
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30 Poems About Eighth Grade

Written by Dan

Last updated December 18, 2023

Poetry can take us on an imaginative journey, allowing us to explore different moments in time and space. What better way for a young student to experience this than by writing and reading poems about their own lives?

This collection of eighth-grade poems celebrates the joys, triumphs, and struggles of growing up in middle school. Whether it’s friendships and heartbreaks or successes and failures, these poems express the rollercoaster ride of adolescence.

For eighth-grade students looking for something special to engage with in their classrooms, these poems can be an inspiring source of valuable lessons. Alternatively, those outside of school age can look back fondly at their own experiences as they read these timeless verses.

So let’s put aside our worries and explore the captivating world of poetry together!

Related : For more, check out our article on  Poems About Starting Ninth Grade  here.

Table of Contents

Five Free Verse Poems About Eighth Grade

The last first day.

The halls look the same,

but something’s different, I can feel it.

I hear the familiar chatter of friends,

but something’s missing, I can tell.

The rush to get to class on time,

the anxious patterns of first-day outfits,

the excited jitters of the unknown –

they’re all the same, yet they’re not.

This is the last first day of eighth grade,

the beginning of an end, the end of a beginning.

It’s bittersweet, but it’s time to start.

The mirror shows a stranger, not me.

I don’t recognize the curves, the bumps,

the foreign appendages that sprouted overnight.

My body is a puzzle I still can’t solve.

Acne and odors and a newfound love

for privacy, secrets, and locking doors.

The hormones rage inside like a storm,

and there’s no point in fighting their course.

Puberty, the universal middle school curse –

we endure it together, but alone,

praying we’ll come out whole on the other side

of this unexpected, awkward growth spurt.

The Social Ladder

Whispers and rumors, status and looks,

popularity reigns supreme in eighth grade.

We cluster in groups, divide and conquer,

marking our territory with every move.

The queen bees and the wanna-bes,

the jocks and the geeks and the in-betweens.

Everyone wants to be noticed, hoped to be liked,

but at what cost, we’re sometimes too blind to see.

The social ladder is unforgiving, a trial by fire,

and once you climb, there’s no guarantee you’ll stay.

Eighth grade is a lesson in power and empathy,

a never-ending cycle of who’s up and who’s down the next day.

The Endless Homework

Piles of textbooks, stacks of worksheets,

endless homework that never seems to end.

The teachers pile on more, ignoring our pleas,

igniting stress and chaos, like a ticking time bomb.

We scramble to finish, despite the exhaustion,

longing for a break, for a moment to breathe.

But the workload never ceases, mocking our tears,

reminding us of the never-ending grind of school.

Eighth grade homework, a rigor like no other,

grooming us for high school, but also, misery.

A necessary evil we must endure and conquer,

if we are to succeed and unlock the doors of opportunity.

The Goodbye

The end of eighth grade looms ahead,

a mix of anticipation, bittersweet regret.

We’ll leave behind the people and the place,

the memories, the laughter, and the tears.

The goodbyes are hard, the thought of leaving,

the comfort of familiarity, the known.

We’ll scatter and move on to different paths,

our destinies unknown, the future, unshown.

But even as we say our farewells,

I know we’ll remember the moments that mattered,

the inside jokes, the crazy adventures,

the friends that made this journey, unforgettable.

Eighth grade, the end of an era, the beginning of a new,

let’s celebrate this milestone, and the people we’ve become.

Forever etched in our hearts, our memories,

the laughter, the tears, but most of all, the fun.

Five Haiku Poems About Eighth Grade

Graduation day.

Caps tossed in the air

Memories held deep in our hearts

Eighth grade’s done, onward.

Mornings in the room

A space to work, laugh, and grow

Together we bond.

Winter Formal

Dancing under lights

Spirits high and hearts all aglow

New memories made.

The Last Day

Lockers clear and clean

Echoing halls filled with goodbyes

Eighth grade ends here.

The Bell Rings

The bell rings us in

Another day of learning starts

Growing all the time.

Five Limerick Poems About Eighth Grade

First day jitters.

On that first day of eighth grade,

I walked in with nerves like a razor blade,

The teacher was nice,

Asking no sacrifice,

A kind welcome from him had been made.

Passing Notes

In the back row we sat, side by side,

While the history teacher did chide,

On the subject at hand,

That’s when we had planned,

To pass notes scribbled with secrets inside.

Homework Blues

Homework, homework, always the same,

Each night a brand new list, what a shame,

How I wish it would stop,

That to-do list on top,

But I do it, for grades and for fame.

Field Trips

Eighth grade trips are Superb,

A day out of class, no book or a verb,

Museums of every can,

Science, history, and art, fan.

The best time, no doubt, my friends say with a twirl.

Finally, the big day has arrived,

All our efforts seem to have thrived,

Cap on my head, gown on my back,

Looking forward to the new track,

Our eighth-grade diploma, real proof we had strived.

Five Tanka Poems About Eighth Grade

In homeroom we sit

Friends by our side, books in hand

A familiar sight

The day stretching out before us

Growing and learning in sync

The Big Dance

Hear the beat, the sound

Music fills the crowded air

A sea of faces

Bodies swaying in rhythm

Dancing our way through eighth grade

The End is Near

Days grow shorter now

The end of the year draws near

Nostalgia sets in

Memories flashing like film

Eighth grade, almost over

A New Beginning

Eighth grade, check complete

Now off to the wide unknown

High school, a new start

Unfamiliar halls and faces

New opportunities too

Caps thrown to the sky

The culmination of years

Achievement in hand

Eighth grade now just a dream

Ready for life to unfold

Five Sonnet Poems About Eighth Grade

The first day.

The first day of eighth grade dawns too soon

Our childish summer, now a fading dream

The halls familiar, yet not quite the same

We’ll seek our fortunes, under the high noon.

Excitement and dread in equal measure

On teachers and friends, we’ll leave our mark

The past behind us, a future so stark

The eighth-grade journey, a thrill to treasure.

As books open, and pencils start to scratch

Our young minds, filled with promise and hope

A path laid, with guidance from those on watch

We’ll aim for excellence, refusal to mope.

So here we go, new chapter in our book

Onward, eighth grade, our best shall we look.

Inside Homeroom

The morning dawns, and inside homeroom

Excited murmurs, a classroom so bright

Friends by our side, no worry or fright

Our shelter, where we’ll learn and make room.

Laughter and jokes, discussions abound

Homeroom, the start of all our days

Sharing our dreams, swapping news and ways

Hearts and minds, to each other we’re bound.

A break from lessons, a time to reflect

Inside Homeroom, our world comes alive

A place that our memories shall select

As we grow and learn, through each hour we thrive.

Inside Homeroom, a second home indeed,

One where we’re safe, and our fears recede.

Eighth Grade Dance

The big dance of eighth grade, here we come

Eagerly we prepare our suits and gowns

The evening comes, the lights dimmed down

Love and laughter, under the moon and some.

Promises and secrets whispered at night

Music fills the air, and our hearts too

With joyful moments, our dreams take flight

Our friendships built and forever true.

On the dance floor, in each other’s arms

We sway and spin, as if locked on time

The outside world, with all its harms

On this night, we leave behind.

Eighth-grade dance, forever we’ll recall

An evening of magic, one and for all.

The Last Bell

The last bell’s toll, we know it’s almost time

A bittersweet goodbye, and the end of an era

A shared childhood, now a fading chimera

A world where everything had a rhyme.

In these halls, we laughed and sometimes cried

And here we learned, lessons that forever stay

The friends we made, with and beside

Paths we took, on life’s unpredictable highway.

How we long for days we’ll never get back

But we know, they had to come to an end

And we’ll keep memories, in the heart and the rack

Our time in eighth-grade, a forever friend.

The last bell’s toll, with tears and a smile

A final goodbye, with love and a pile.

The day has come, the day we’ve all craved

We don our caps and gowns, minds all aglow

Eighth grade is through, we’re all set to go

Our futures forever, in our minds engraved.

Our parents’ eyes filled with proud tears

A sense of accomplishment, and eagerness too

Our dreams, our goals, our paths anew

We’ll head to high school, free from all our fears.

A little sad, to leave our old grounds behind

A chapter in life, now a fading past

But how we’ll treasure, what we’ll come to find

Our memories, a forever cast.

Goodbye, eighth grade, we’ll bid you adieu

And all that you meant, forever young and true.

Five Ode Poems About Eighth Grade

Ode to homeroom.

Oh, Homeroom, our sanctuary and light

A place where we share all our dreams and plight

A room where discussions and laughter are rife

A safe space where troubles take flight.

Inside your walls, we make memories so dear

Whether studying or gossiping, we have nothing to fear

Homeroom, our joyful respite from the fray

A place where we’ll hold, eighth grade memories that stay.

Ode to Friendship

Friends we make, through thick and thin

Companions who stick with us, win or sin

The ones who’d always lend a listening ear

The ones who erased all our fear.

In eighth grade, we’re all about growing up

Living our best, striving for success all round the clock

With friends by our side, each step’s revitalized

For in eighth grade, our bonds, ever magnified.

Ode to Graduation Day

Graduation day, a celebration indeed

Of our achievements, of all that we had achieved

Our caps we toss, signaling the dawn of a new era

Our goals, our futures, forever clearer.

We’ll remember eighth grade, with gratitude and love

Our teachers, our friends, each one like a dove

For helping us through the triumphs and the strife

And raising the banner of eighth-grade life.

Ode to Teachers

Our teachers, who gave so much of their grace

Guiding us through our eighth grade race

Lectures, assignments, endless homework every day

Preparing us well for the future’s gateway.

Through thick and thin, they’ve stayed by our side

Teaching us how to face the world with stride

For eighth grade was not just classroom learning

It was also life skills, a discerning.

Ode to the Journey

How can we forget the journey we faced?

Our eighth-grade passions, goals, and hard-earned taste

The ups and downs, the highs and lows we scaled

Our path through eighth grade, a story never failed.

The lessons we learned, the friendships we sowed

The moments of joy, the struggles that slowed

In eighth grade, a season so rich in memory

Our journey, forever etched, in our own inquiry.

Eighth grade, a chapter so dear to our hearts

A journey of growth, of pushing past our parts

A time to explore, to discover our passion

A journey we’ll always recall, with treasured satisfaction.

Five Villanelle Poems About Eighth Grade

The lockers.

The lockers, tall like towers, line the halls

Each one assigned to tether books and coat

But, jammed with paper scraps, their purpose stalls

The numbers and the dents adorning all

Bear wint’ry coats and hang like winter’s coat

Avail to open with a jerk and haul

The books and looseleaf with a trembling note

And often come the moments when one falls

Afoul. And with a rhythmic beat it bloats

The snow boots stomp and hurry through the stalls

As nervous laughter starts (a novice’s gloat)

And as the bell rings in another small

Horde, the last footsteps linger and then it’s note

But, jammed with paper scraps, their purpose stalls.

The Cafeteria

In the cafeteria, one sits and waits

A cardboard tray with lunch, a plastic fork

The distant sound of peers, the crowded gates

The floor, stained red from melted sundaes’ fates

A place for some to laugh and some to cork

New tables marked for concerts by the plates

All in a row for everyone to gawk

Some bring their lunches in their plastic crates

Others come for pizza, drinks the store

Some take a seat with their own classroom traits

The smart, the funny, the shy, sassy and more

And though the food sometimes is up for bait

The space is always humming near the cork

The distant sound of peers, the crowded gates.

The bell rings loudly, and there’s no escape

It’s time to head to class, to sit and learn

For lots of students, this is their worst fate

Some clasp their papers, others just berate

As doors fly open, freedom for those yearn

The hallways fill with feet, this called the tape

Avoiding pushy waves that jostle and burn

Classes in concert halls or small rooms grape

A puzzling sense of time that’s soon adjourned

The teachers ready with tests, class debates

Pencils, and paper, for grades to discern

And though some sink, and others elevate

The bell’s the music calling first and stern

For lots of students, this is their worst fate.

There’s a special night we wait for all year

The one that’s glitzy, flashy, all in cheer

Where suits and dresses, matching ties, appear

There’s food, there’s music, converse near

The crown to wear for those who persevere

Some months before, the planning and the fear

The ways to ask, the friends around to hear

The Pre-Prom parties, limos there to steer

Snap a picture, march into a new atmosphere

The napkins labeled, the tables to revere

A calm before the students disappear

And though the night is bound to disappear

The memories, we hope, remain forever dear

Where suits and dresses, matching ties, appear.

The Memories

In the eighth grade we wearied and we learned

went through a time of growth, and sometimes burned

But looking back, the memories discerned

Adventures, sports, and games we churned

Friendships growing deep, our courage turned

The moments that we cried and sometimes yearned

The laughter shared till all our sides had turned

The end-of-year, we hoped we’d earned

But knowing soon our paths would all be turned

The lockers, lunchroom, teachers we spurned

The halls we walked, the poems we’d turned

Though high school will bring a brand new yearn

These eighth grade moments, we’ll forever spurn

But looking back, the memories discerned.

The collection of eighth-grade poems celebrates the vibrant and tumultuous journey of growing up in middle school. These poems capture the essence of adolescence, with all its joys, triumphs, and struggles.

For students, they offer an exciting opportunity to explore creative writing and express themselves in new ways.

For others, they evoke memories of their own past experiences. Poetry has the unique power to transport and inspire; this collection does just that. So let’s continue to appreciate these timeless verses and explore the captivating world of poetry together!

Q: Why is poetry relevant for eighth-grade students?

A: Poetry is an excellent tool for eighth-grade students to explore their emotions, gain self-awareness, and develop their creativity. It is a versatile medium in which they can express themselves authentically and without fear of judgement. Poetry can also help students to develop critical thinking skills, expand their vocabulary, and improve their writing abilities.

Q: Can poetry be used to teach other subjects?

A: Yes! Poetry can be used to teach many subjects, including history, science, and social studies. It can effectively help students understand complex topics, inspire them to learn more, and encourage critical thinking.

Q: How can teachers support students who are struggling with writing poetry?

A: Teachers can provide students with a variety of prompts and exercises to help overcome writer’s block and inspire creativity. They can also offer feedback and create a supportive environment where students feel comfortable sharing their work. Additionally, teachers can encourage students to read the works of published poets and participate in poetry readings to help generate ideas and build confidence.

Q: How does poetry benefit mental health?

A: Writing or reading poetry can be highly therapeutic for mental health. It can help people to process and understand their emotions, reduce stress and anxiety, and improve overall well-being. For eighth-grade students, poetry can serve as a healthy outlet for emotional expression during a time when they may be dealing with new and complex feelings.

Q: Do eighth-grade students need to have prior knowledge of poetry to write their own poems?

A: No, prior knowledge of poetry is not necessary for students to write their own poems. While understanding poetry structure and devices can be helpful, the most important aspect of poetry is self-expression. Encouraging personal thoughts, emotions, and experiences can lead to authentic and impactful poems.

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About The Author

I'm Dan Higgins, one of the faces behind The Teaching Couple. With 15 years in the education sector and a decade as a teacher, I've witnessed the highs and lows of school life. Over the years, my passion for supporting fellow teachers and making school more bearable has grown. The Teaching Couple is my platform to share strategies, tips, and insights from my journey. Together, we can shape a better school experience for all.

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Interactive Poetry Activities Your Students Will Love

Do you want to make poetry so fun and engaging that your students will ask for more? Here are some simple activities to get you started.

1. Blackout Poetry

There are so many reasons blackout poetry is great: kids love it, it's creative, and it forces you to clean the falling-apart books from your classroom library without the guilt of tossing them in the trash.

What is blackout poetry? It's simple. Rip out the pages of old books. Give the students some basic instructions, then watch the creativity flow!

Sample Instructions:

Blackout Poetry Examples:

2. Poet VS Poet

College basketball's March Madness is the perfect time to pit poet against poet for some exciting classroom debates, but any time of year teachers can create a similar feel by putting poets head to head and comparing their power.

Kids love competition. Creating competition with poetry naturally adds excitement and connects a sometimes intimidating genre with something familiar.

How do you implement a poet vs poet match up in your classroom? You could use an already created tool ( see Poet Vs Poet here ) or create your own match ups. For example, after a simple lesson on figurative language, ask your students to read the poetry of two different poets and rate their use of metaphors, similes, personification, and imagery. As a class, debate the poet's ratings using text based evidence.

If you are at all familiar with the basketball brackets of March Madness, poetry brackets work the same way (and you can find and download blank brackets by doing a simple Google search). I like to start with a sweet sixteen of poets, then narrow down to an elite eight, a final four, a championship, and a winner. Poets advance by having classes vote on the better poet in each match up. The reward of listening to kids debate poet's skills like the poets are athletes is worth any time it takes setting up this activity.

3. Found Poems

Found poems give language to students who may struggle to find the right words. Found poetry is easily accessible, hands on, and fun. Easy to set up, all you need to do to implement found poetry in your classroom is gather together stacks of old magazines, scissors, glue, and colorful paper.

First, instruct students to find powerful words in the pages of magazines, cut them out, and make piles on their desk. You could also assign cutting out powerful words from old magazines for homework and save yourself the time and mess in your classroom.

Next, students arrange and rearrange the words on their desk into meaningful poetry. This is a great opportunity to reinforce the power of form, shape, and line breaks in poetry and encourage students to be thoughtful in their choices. Talk to your students about choosing the best words, eliminating unnecessary words, and playing around with word choice.

Finally, instruct students to glue their poem into place on a colorful piece of paper and decorate your room with the beauty and power of poetry.

4. Poetry Escape Room

A poetry escape room is the most engaging and fun way to introduce or review poetry with your students. Escape rooms by nature are hands on and engaging. Combine the fun of an escape room with poetry and your kids will be hooked. (Check out the poetry escape room I did with my students here.)

Escape rooms, or breakout rooms, are a new trend similar to scavenger hunts. In a poetry escape room, students put together clues based on poems, poets, figurative language, poetry form, rhyme scheme, or any other poetic element. Then, students work to unlock the clues using their poetry knowledge.

Poets are experts at hiding meaning within the lines of their poetry, so use that to create clues that ask students to interpret, make inferences, and analyze. Escape rooms are a great method of turning tasks that can be intimidating to kids and making them into interactive challenges that students are motivated to engage in.

To create a poetry escape room, first choose the poetic elements or reading skills you want to target, a specific poem you want students to read and reread several times in different ways, or a theme or poet to design your escape room around.

Next, gather the materials and tasks that you would normally share with students in a traditional format, but think of creative ways to turn the tasks into clues. For example, if you want students to identify the figurative language in a poem, create task cards that students have to place in the order that those poetic elements appear in the poem. Hide small letters on the task cards so when students place the cards in order, the next clue appears. See the example below:

Get creative and hide clues within poems with bold words, put clues on task cards that students have to place in a certain order based on analysis, or choose clues based on symbolism or inferences that students can find only when they do a close read of the poem.

Although escape rooms require a lot of preparation and thought, the end result is worth the time. Students will be more engaged, thoughtful, and active in reading poetry than you could ever imagine. Escape rooms are a great way to review poetic elements or kick off a new study of poetry when you really want to catch students' attention and get them motivated.

Check out my step by step guide to creating your own escape room here .

5. Poetry Mash Up

Create a poetry mash up by writing poetry forms on slips of paper and placing them in one jar, types of figurative language and placing them in a second jar, and sound elements and placing them in a third jar. Pass the jars around the classroom and have students choose from each one, writing a poem based on what they chose.

For example, a student might choose haiku (poetry form), imagery (figurative language), and onomatopoeia (sound element). That student would then be challenged to write a haiku with imagery and an onomatopoeia. There are endless combinations and kids will have a blast writing, sharing, and seeing what poems are created in your poetry mash up.

Play over and over and model your poetry writing with students as well. Have fun laughing at the ridiculous and enjoy the surprise when students create some really amazing pieces with different combinations of poetic elements.

Making poetry fun and hands on is not only possible, but with a little creativity, it's really easy to implement at any level. Help your students to find the joy in creating magic with only a few words in different shapes and forms. Take the intimidation factor out of poetry by connecting poetry to fun challenges, familiar activities, and hand on learning.

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15 Fun Poetry Activities for High School

April 8, 2019 //  by  Lindsay Ann //   3 Comments

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High School Students + Fun Poetry Activities

If you’re an English teacher, looking for fun poetry activities for high school or middle school students, I’ve got you covered. I’m opening up my poetry toolbox and sharing some of my favorite (and most successful) poetry games and activities!  Whether you’re looking for a stand-alone lesson or something more, there’s something here for everyone.

Pop Sonnets

The creation of pop sonnets is one of my favorite poetry activities to use in conjunction with the reading of a Shakespearean play, but it can be used as a stand-alone lesson. The hook is that modern-day songs have been turned into Shakespearean sonnets. You can study one of Shakespeare’s sonnets and ask students to modernize it. Then, work in reverse by re-working a modern-day song as a sonnet. Or, just use this as a “hook” to help students feel more comfortable with Shakespearean language.   Take a look and thank me later.

Songs as Poetry

Studying modern-day songs is a great way to teach about figurative language and poetic devices while studying poetry. Try reading the lyrics, but omitting or re-writing the metaphors and talking about the change in message/meaning. Look for examples of imperfect rhyme in one of Eminem’s cleaner songs. Study poems as paired texts . Analyze lines from a famous soundtrack. Ask students to bring in their favorite songs and discuss. So. Many. Options!

Here are 12 great songs to analyze if you aren’t sure where to start:

• “Across the Universe” by the Beatles
• “Angel” by Sarah McLachlan
• “Blank Space” by Taylor Swift
• “Chasing Pavements” by Adele
• “Infinity” by Mariah Carey
• “Stereo Hearts” by Gym Class Heroes
• “Counting Stars” by One Republic
• “It’s Time” by Imagine Dragons
• “Imagine” by John Lennon
• “Mad World” by Gary Jules
• “Zombie” by The Cranberries
• “Letter to Me” by Brad Paisley

Slam Poetry

Students need to know that poetry is not dead. It’s living. It’s breathing. It’s storytelling. It’s cool. In April, my classes come alive with the magic of slam poetry as students become authors and performers. They re-discover wonder and learn to let down their guard. They learn that there is intersectionality between their story and the stories of others. They are appreciated. They appreciate others. When I use this fun poetry activity for high school students , my classroom really becomes a true community.

Grab my slam poetry “mini” unit to get your students started with slam poetry!

Not sure which slam poems are school-appropriate and engaging? Here are 40 of my favorite slam poems !

Paint Chip Poetry

This poetry writing activity is FREE if you’re willing to grab some paint chips from your local hardware store, preferably ones with multiple colors in one. Or, Amazon sells an awesome paint chip poetry “game.”

• Have students use one of the color names as the title for a poem.
• Have students write poems in stanzas, using each of the color names as inspiration.
• Have students use all of the color names somewhere in a poem.
• Have students choose two contrasting colors and make a poem of contrasts.
• Have students choose two complimentary colors and make a poem.
• Have students choose a color and write an identity poem.

Blackout Poetry

This is an oldie, but goodie poetry writing exercise for high school students. Copy a page or two from a whole class novel. Or better yet, choose a completely divergent text, maybe a science textbook or page from a dictionary. Students string together words on the page to form a poem, and black-out the rest of the words. If they want to go above and beyond, they can create an original illustration to accompany their blackout poem.

Book Spine Poetry

Take your students to the library (or have them browse a site like Goodreads) and challenge them to create poems from book titles. Each title becomes a line in the poem. An optional challenge: have students choose (or randomly draw) a theme, and their poem has to relate to their chosen theme. If you’re looking for some FREE templates, I’ve got you covered: Click Here !  I created these templates as a quick fun poetry activity for high school sophomores after my librarian told me that having my classes pull so many books would be a pain to re-shelve.

Poetry Tasting

A lot of teachers are loving my reading progressive dinner stations . Poems are short and accessible texts that always rock when used with this activity.

Here are some options for poetry stations, a fun group poetry activity: 

• Choose a certain kind of poem or a certain poetic movement to explore at ALL the stations, i.e. the ghazal or Imagist poetry.
• Choose different kinds of poems or movements to explore at each station.
• Choose poems related to ONE thematic idea.
• Choose poems written by teenagers.
• Choose “famous” poems.
• Choose slam poems.

Poetry Transformations

If you’re studying word choice and tone in poetry, why not have students transform a poem, switching from one tone to another? Then, have students write a reflection analyzing why they made 4-5 important changes.

Found Poems

This poetry activity is exactly what it sounds like. Have students choose / cut-out words from magazines to form “found” poems. Or, have students listen to a TED talk or story, writing down a certain # of words they hear. Then, ask them to use these words + ones of their own to write an original poem.

Easter Egg Poems

If ’tis the season, you might as well use those plastic easter eggs you may have lying around. Put “poetry inspiration” in each egg. At the very least, I suggest a word or phrase. If you want to go “all-in,” create a combination of the items below:

• Random household objects, i.e. a piece of string, a bead
• Newspaper/magazine clippings
• Words/phrases
• Famous first lines
• A “mentor” poem, copied and folded up

Tell students that their challenge is to write a poem inspired by these objects. Or, if you prefer, have students incorporate words / ideas from each object in their poem.

Favorite Poem Project

If you’ve never seen the site “ Favorite Poem Project ,” I suggest checking it out as a poetry unit resource. The site’s goal is to interview a variety of different people about their “favorite poems.” In each short video, an individual shares a personal connection to his/her poem and reads the poem out loud.

After being a fan of this site for some time, I decided to have my students make their own “favorite poem” videos . They explored, chose a poem that they liked “best,” and created videos on Flipgrid discussing their thoughts about the poem and reading it aloud. These videos were then viewed by classmates. Everyone enjoyed this a lot!

Metaphor Dice

Poems as Mentor Texts

Using mentor texts for writing is a powerful strategy for poetry instruction, yet one that I find myself “skipping” because there isn’t time. I have to remind myself to “make” the time because it’s important. If we’re going to spend time analyzing texts, it only makes sense to have students try to use those writing moves in their own writing. After all, students should be writing frequently, and not always for an assessment grade.

Here are 12 great mentor poems if you’re not sure where to start:

• “ We Real Cool ” by Gwendolyn Brooks
• “ Montauk ” by Sarah Kay
• “ This is Just to Say ” by William Carlos Williams
• “ Mother to Son ” by Langston Hughes
• “ My Father’s Hats ” by Mark Irwin
• “ Chicago ” by Carl Sandburg
• “ Entrance ” by Dana Gioia
• “ My Father is an Oyster ” by Clint Smith
• “ If ” by Rudyard Kipling
• “ Ode to a Large Tuna in the Market ” by Pablo Neruda
• “ The Bean Eaters ” by Gwendolyn Brooks
• “ The Summer I Was Sixteen ” by Geraldine Connolly
• “ Where I’m From ” by George Ella Lyon (As a bonus, students can submit their poems to the “I am From” project. ) p.s. If you’re looking for ready-to-use templates,  here you go !

Magnetic Poetry

A fun activity to fill extra class time, or just for fun: magnetic poetry . Give each student (or pairs of students) a handful of magnetic poetry pieces. See what they come up with. Take pictures and display around the room.

Interactive Poetry Bulletin Board

Sort of like magnetic poetry, but with a twist, it’s fun to set-up an interactive bulletin board as a fun poetry activity for high school students to try before or after class. You can do this in several different ways.

• Poem of the day + a “feel-o-meter” for students to rate the poem on a scale from “mild sauce” to “hot sauce.” You can have students use push pins to vote.
• Large scale magnetic poetry + a bulletin board becomes “push pin poetry.” You choose the words. Students move them around to form poems.

Hey, if you loved this post, I want to be sure you’ve had the chance to grab a FREE copy of my guide to stream l ined grading . I know how hard it is to do all the things as an English teacher, so I’m over the moon to be able to share with you some of my best strategies for reducing the grading overwhelm. 

Click on the link above or the image below to get started!

About Lindsay Ann

Lindsay has been teaching high school English in the burbs of Chicago for 18 years. She is passionate about helping English teachers find balance in their lives and teaching practice through practical feedback strategies and student-led learning strategies. She also geeks out about literary analysis, inquiry-based learning, and classroom technology integration. When Lindsay is not teaching, she enjoys playing with her two kids, running, and getting lost in a good book.

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ThinkWritten

101 Poetry Prompts & Ideas for Writing Poems

Not sure what to write a poem about? Here’s 101 poetry prompts to get you started!

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These poetry prompts are designed to help you keep a creative writing practice. If you’re staring at a blank page and the words aren’t flowing, the creative writing prompts for poems can be a great way to get started!

New for 2023! Due to popular demand, I created a printable, ad-free version of these poetry prompts you can download to use at home or even in the classroom! Get them at our Etsy Shop .

Even if poetry isn’t your thing, you could always use these things to inspire other writing projects. Essays, journal entries, short stories, and flash fiction are just a few examples of ways this list can be used.

You may even find this list of creative poetry writing prompts helpful as an exercise to build your skills in descriptive writing and using metaphors!

Let’s get onto the list, shall we?

Here are 101 Poetry Prompts for Creative Writing

Most of these creative writing ideas are simple and open-ended. This allows you total creative freedom to write from these poetry prompts in your own unique style, tone, and voice.

If one poetry idea doesn’t appeal to you, challenge yourself to find parallels between the prompt and things that you do enjoy writing about!

1.The Untouchable : Something that will always be out of reach

2. 7 Days, 7 Lines : Write a poem where each line/sentence is about each day of last week

3. Grandma’s Kitchen : Focus on a single memory, or describe what you might imagine the typical grandmother’s kitchen to be like

4. Taste the Rainbow : What does your favorite color taste like?

5. Misfits: How it feels when you don’t belong in a group of others.

6. Stranger Conversations : Start the first line of your poem with a word or phrase from a recent passing conversation between you and someone you don’t know.

7. On the Field : Write from the perspective of a sports ball {Baseball, Soccer, Football, Basketball, Lacrosse, etc.} – think about what the sports ball might feel, see, hear, think, and experience with this poetry idea!

8. Street Signs: Take note of the words on signs and street names you pass while driving, walking, or riding the bus. Write a poem starting with one of these words you notice.

9. Cold water: What feelings do you associate with cold water? Maybe it’s a refreshing cold glass of water on a hot day, or maybe you imagine the feelings associated with being plunged into the icy river in the winter.

10. Ghostwriter: Imagine an invisible ghost picks up a pen and starts writing to you.

11. Lessons From Math Class: Write about a math concept, such as “you cannot divide by zero” or never-ending irrational numbers.

12. Instagram Wall: Open up either your own Instagram account or one of a friend/celebrity and write poetry based on the first picture you see.

13. Radio: Tune in to a radio station you don’t normally listen to, and write a poem inspired by the the first song or message you hear.

14. How To : Write a poem on how to do something mundane most people take for granted, such as how to tie your shoes, how to turn on a lamp, how to pour a cup of coffee.

15. Under 25 Words : Challenge yourself to write a poem that is no more than 25 words long.

16. Out of Order: Write about your feelings when there is an out of order sign on a vending machine.

17. Home Planet: Imagine you are from another planet, stuck on earth and longing for home.

18. Uncertainty : Think about a time in your life when you couldn’t make a decision, and write based on this.

19. Complete : Be inspired by a project or task be completed – whether it’s crossing something off the never-ending to-do list, or a project you have worked on for a long time.

20. Compare and Contrast Personality : What are some key differences and similarities between two people you know?

21. Goodbyes : Write about a time in your life you said goodbye to someone – this could be as simple as ending a mundane phone conversation, or harder goodbyes to close friends, family members, or former partners.

22. Imagine Weather Indoors : Perhaps a thunderstorm in the attic? A tornado in the kitchen?

23. Would You Rather? Write about something you don’t want to do, and what you would rather do instead.

24. Sound of Silence : Take some inspiration from the classic Simon & Garfunkel song and describe what silence sounds like.

25. Numbness : What’s it like to feel nothing at all?

26. Fabric Textures : Use different fiber textures, such as wool, silk, and cotton as a poetry writing prompt.

27. Anticipation : Write about the feelings you experience or things you notice while waiting for something.

28. Poison: Describe something toxic and its effects on a person.

29. Circus Performers: Write your poetry inspired by a circus performer – a trapeze artist, the clowns, the ringmaster, the animal trainers, etc.

30. Riding on the Bus : Write a poem based on a time you’ve traveled by bus – whether a school bus, around town, or a long distance trip to visit a certain destination.

31. Time Freeze : Imagine wherever you are right now that the clock stops and all the people in the world are frozen in place. What are they doing?

32. The Spice of Life : Choose a spice from your kitchen cabinet, and relate its flavor to an event that has happened recently in your daily life.

33. Parallel Universe : Imagine you, but in a completely different life based on making a different decision that impacted everything else.

34. Mad Scientist : Create a piece based on a science experiment going terribly, terribly wrong.

35. People You Have Known : Make each line about different people you have met but lost contact with over the years. These could be old friends, passed on family, etc.

36. Last Words : Use the last sentence from the nearest book as the inspiration for the first line of your poem.

37. Fix This : Think about something you own that is broken, and write about possible ways to fix it. Duct tape? A hammer and nails?

38. Suspicion : Pretend you are a detective and you have to narrow down the suspects.

39. Political News : Many famous poets found inspiration from the current politics in their time. Open up a newspaper or news website, and create inspired by the first news article you find.

40. The Letter D : Make a list of 5 words that start with all with the same letter, and then use these items throughout the lines of your verse. {This can be any letter, but for example sake: Daisy, Dishes, Desk, Darkness, Doubt}

41. Quite the Collection : Go to a museum, or look at museum galleries online. Draw your inspiration from collections of objects and artifacts from your favorite display. Examples: Pre-historic days, Egyptians, Art Galleries, etc.

42. Standing in Line : Think of a time you had to stand in line for something. Maybe you were waiting in a check-out line at the store, or you had to stand in line to enter a concert or event.

43. Junk Mail Prose: Take some inspiration from your latest junk mail. Maybe it’s a grocery store flyer announcing a sale on grapes, or an offer for a credit card.

44. Recipe : Write your poem in the form of a recipe. This can be for something tangible, such as a cake, or it can be a more abstract concept such as love or happiness. List ingredients and directions for mixing and tips for cooking up your concept to perfection.

45. Do you like sweaters? Some people love their coziness, others find them scratchy and too hot. Use your feelings about sweaters in a poem.

46. After Party : What is it like after all party guests go home?

47. Overgrown : Use  Little Shop of Horrors  for inspiration, or let your imagination run wild on what might happen if a plant or flower came to life or started spreading rapidly to take over the world.

48. Interference: Write a poem that is about someone or something coming in between you and your goals.

49. On Shaky Ground: Use an earthquake reference or metaphor in your poem.

50. Trust Issues : Can you trust someone you have doubted in the past?

51. Locked in a Jar: Imagine you are a tiny person, who has been captured and put into a jar for display or science.

52. Weirder Than Fiction: Think of the most unbelievable moment in your life, and write a poem about the experience.

53. Fast Food: Write a poem about fast food restaurants and experiences.

54. Unemployed: Write a poem about quitting or being fired from a job you depended on.

55. Boxes: What kinds of family secrets or stories might be hiding in that untouched box in the attic?

56. No One Understands : Write about what it feels like when no one understands or agrees with your opinion.

57. Criminal Minds : Write a poem from the perspective of a high-profile criminal who is always on the run from law enforcement.

58. Marathon Runner : Write a poem about what training you might be doing to accomplish a difficult challenge in your life.

59. Trapped : Write about an experience that made you feel trapped.

60. Passing the Church : Write a poem about noticing something interesting while passing by a church near your home.

61. Backseat Driver: Write about what it’s like to be doing something in your life and constantly being criticized while trying to move ahead.

62. Luster: Create a descriptive poem about something that has a soft glow or sheen to it.

63. Clipboard: Write a poem about someone who is all business like and set in their ways of following a system.

64. Doctor: Write a poem about receiving advice from a doctor.

65. First Car : Write an ode to your first car

66. Life Didn’t Go As a Planned : Write about a recent or memorable experience when nothing went according to plan.

67. Architect : Imagine you are hired to design a building for a humanitarian cause you are passionate about.

68. The Crazy Cat Hoarder : Write about someone who owns far too many cats.

69. Queen : Write a poem from the perspective of a queen.

70. Movie Character : Think of a recent movie you watched, and create a poem about one character specifically, or an interaction between two characters that was memorable.

71. Potential Energy : Write about an experience where you had a lot of potential for success, but failed.

72. Moonlight : Write about an experience in the moonlight.

73. Perfection : Write about trying to always keep everything perfect.

74. You Are Wrong : Write a poem where you tell someone they are wrong and why.

75. Sarcasm : Write a poem using sarcasm as a form of illustrating your point.

76. Don’t Cry : Write a poem about how not to cry when it’s hard to hold back the tears.

77. Listen Up: Write a poem telling someone they are better than they think they are.

78. Flipside : Find the good in something terrible.

79. Maybe They Had a Reason : Write a poem about someone doing something you don’t understand, and try to explain what reasons they might have had.

80. How to Drive : Write a poem that explains how to drive to a teenager.

81. Up & Down the Steps: Write a poem that includes the motion of going up or down a staircase

82. Basket Case: Has there ever been a time when you thought you might lose your mind? Jot your feelings and thoughts down in verse form.

83. Lucky Guess:  Many times in our life we have to make a good guess for what is the best decision. Use this poetry idea to write about feelings related to guessing something right – or wrong.

84. Dear Reader:  What audience enjoys reading the type of poetry you like to write? Craft a note to your potential audience that addresses their biggest fears, hopes, and dreams.

85. All or Nothing : Share your thoughts on absolutist thinking: when one’s beliefs are so set in stone there are no exceptions.

86. Ladders in the Sky : Imagine there are ladders that take you up to the clouds. What could be up there? What feelings do you have about climbing the ladders, or is their a mystery as to how they got there in the first place?

87. Always On My Mind: Compose a poem about what it’s like to always be thinking about someone or something.

88. Paranoia : What would it be like if you felt like someone was watching you but no one believed you?

89. Liar, Liar: How would you react to someone who lied to you?

90. Secret Word: What’s the magic word to unlock someone’s access to something?

91. For What It’s Worth: Use a valuable object in your home as inspiration as a poetry prompt idea.

92. Coming Home to Secrets: Imagine a person who puts on a good act to cover up a secret they deal with at home.

93. Productivity: Talk about your greatest struggles with time management and organization.

94. Defying Gravity: Use words that relate to being weightless and floating.

95. Signs of the Times : How has a place you are familiar with changed over the past 10 years?

96. Sleepless Nights : What ideas and feelings keep you up at night? What’s it like when you have to wake up in the morning on a night you can’t sleep?

97. You Can’t Fire Me, I Quit : Use one of the worst job related memories you can think of as a creative writing prompt.

98. By George : You can choose any name, but think of 3-5 notable figures or celebrities who share a common first name, and combine their personalities and physical characteristics into one piece of poetry. For example: George Washington, George Clooney, George Harrison.

99. Shelter : Write a poem about a time you were thankful for shelter from a storm.

100. Cafeteria : Create a poem inspired by the people who might be eating lunch in a cafeteria at school or at a hospital.

101. Dusty Musical Instruments : Base your poem around the plight of a musician who hasn’t picked up the guitar or touched a piano in years.

Love these prompts? The printable, ad-free version of these poetry prompts can be used offline or in the classroom! Get them at our Etsy Shop .

There are unlimited possibilities for ways you can use these poem ideas to write poetry. Using a list like this can greatly help you with getting into the habit of writing daily – even when you don’t feel inspired to write.

While not every poem you write will be an award-winning masterpiece, using these poem starters as a regular exercise can help you better your craft as a writer.

I hope you enjoy these poetry prompts – and if you write anything you’d like to share inspired by these creative poetry writing prompts, let us know in the comments below – we love to see how others use writing ideas to create their own work!

And of course, don’t forget to get the ad-free poetry prompt cards printable version if you’d like to use these prompts offline, in the classroom or with your small group!

Chelle Stein wrote her first embarrassingly bad novel at the age of 14 and hasn't stopped writing since. As the founder of ThinkWritten, she enjoys encouraging writers and creatives of all types.

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96 comments.

I had a wonderful inspiration from prompt number 49 “On Shaky Ground,” although it’s not exactly about an earthquake. I wanted to share it on here, so I hope you enjoy it!

Title: “Shaking Ground”

The ground’s shaking My heart’s aching I’m getting dizzy My mind’s crazy

On shaking ground It’s like I’m on a battleground We’re all fighting for love Dirtying our white glove

The ground’s shaking My body’s quaking Love is so cruel Making me a fool

On shaking ground We are all love-bound Stuck in a crate Nobody can avoid this fate

The ground’s shaking We are all waking Opening our eyes Everyone dies

On shaking ground Our love is profound Although we are separate Better places await

The ground’s shaking Death’s overtaking Heaven is descending The world’s ending

On shaking ground In love we are drowned

Awesome interpretation Amanda! Thanks for sharing!

heyyy, I have written something regarding prompt 27 and 96 The Night Charms.

Do you dread the dark; Or do you adore the stars? Do you really think the fire place is that warm; Or you just envy the night charms? The skyline tries to match the stars’ sparkle, The sky gets dark, the vicinity gets darker. The “sun” has set for the day being loyal; These are now the lamps burning the midnight oil. The Eve so busy, that everyone forgets to praise its beauty. The sun has set without anyone bidding him an adieu, Failed to demonstrate its scintillating view. The moon being the epitome of perfection, Has the black spots, Depicting an episode of it’s dark past.

And I sit; I sit and wonder till the dawn. What a peaceful time it is, To have a small world of your own. Away from the chaos, I found a soul that was lost. So tired, yet radiant, Trying to be someone she’s not in the end. That bewitching smile held my hand, Carried me back to shore, letting me feel my feet in the sand. The waves moved to and fro, Whispering to me as they go, “Oh girl, my girl This is the soul you have within you, Never let it vanish, For it alters you into something good and something new, Don’t let the cruel world decide, Don’t let anyone kill that merry vibe.”

Then I saw my own soul fade, Fly into my heart, For what it was made. Oh dear lord, The night’s silence became my solace, My life lessons were made by the waves. Who am I? What have I done to myself? Many questions were answered in self reproach, The answers were still unspoken with no depth. Oh dear night, What have you done to me? Or should I thank you for putting a soul that I see. The nights spent later were now spectacular, My darkness somehow added some light to my life, Making it fuller… Everyday after a day, walking through the scorching lawns, I wait for the the dusk to arrive, and then explore myself till the dawn.

This is so amazing I ran out of words. Very lit thoughts beautifully penned. Keep writing like this dude.❤🌻

That is beautiful, it inspired me to write about my fears, thank you!!

Thank you for the inspiration! 😀 This was based of 21 and 77 (I think those were the numbers lol)

Goodbye to the days when we played together in the sun Goodbye to the smile on your face and to all of the fun I look at you, so dull and blue How long before I can say hello to the real you You are worth more than you think At the very least, you are to me Though there are greater things that wait for you than the least You are worthy of the most, the greatest of things If only goodbye could be ‘see you later’ I want to see the real you again To your suffering I don’t want to be just a spectator I want it all to end Goodbye to my only friend I want to heal you but I don’t know how I wish I had this all figured out Please come back to me I just want you to be free

Thank u so much im more inspired after seeing these creative ideas. 🤗

Glad they inspired you!

Thanks for sharing Amanda!

That was beautiful! I am a writer too! I actually just finished writing one but, it wasn’t from this website, just kind of something that’s been on my head for a while you know? Anyways, again, that was awesome! I am a Christian, and I love seeing people write about that kind of stuff! 🙂

I am jim from Oregon. I am also a writer, not very good but active. I am a Christian as well as you are. Sometimes it is hard to come up with something to write about.

All of a sudden, I have started to write poetry. Do you like all forms of writing? I would enjoy reading some of you work if you would you would like to s if you would like to send me some.

i have written one about frozen time:

my brother will be drawing, his pencil wont leave the sheet, my mother hearing the radio, today’s news on repeat. my sister, in fact, is making her bed, she’ll be making it still, till the last bug is dead. me, on the other hand, i’ll be visiting you, i’ll see you in action, doing the things that you do, i’ll be happy to see you, just a last time, i’ll kiss your still lips, and hold for a while. then i’ll take a plane to saudi, where i’ll see my dad, he’ll be swimming with turtles, he will not seem sad. i have lived on this earth, for 15 whole years, time for goodbye, with not a single tear.

hey beautifully expressed…!!!

Beautifully penned 🌼

I love it I tried one out myself as well Change

She sat looking out the window. The sound of the piano’s cheerful tune ringing out throughout the room. The sweet smell of burnt pine emanating from her fireplace. The sky is blue and the sun shines bright. She closes her eyes for a second. She opens them again. The window is broken and scattered on the ground. The piano sits covered in ashes, every symphony played now just a distant memory replaced with a discordant melody. The room smells of smoke and ash. The sky is dark and rain falls on the remnants of her home. Not a living thing in sight,not even her.

Nice one Amanda. kind of tells me the chronology of love and its eventualities.

such a dilightful poem, thanks for the word that made the day for me. you are such a good poet.

Omg! What!! This is amazing! I’d love to feature this piece on my blog monasteryjm.com. I also love this blog post by thinkwritten.com, planning on putting the link in my next blog post so others can come over here to check it out! So helpful!

this is so great! I’ve been needing inspiration. this might work

Thank you so much for this article! I love the profundity and open-endedness of the prompts. Here is a poem I wrote, drawing inspiration from #56, “No One Understands.” I wrote this from the perspective of a psychic Arcturian Starseed in her teenage years and how the world perceives her spiritual connection; while at the same time hinting at the true meaning of her various baffling actions. Enjoy 🙂

Starseed – a poem on perspective

In the snow She stands alone Wrapped in shrouds of mystery Her gentle hand gloved with giving Caressing A violet stone

Math class is dismissed But there still she sits Speaking to the ceiling in tender tones A soft and healing resonance Murmuring sweetly of ascension to Another, dearer dimension

In homeroom Her classmate weeps Of missed planes and shattered dreams Quietly She strokes the hand of the suffering And whispers then of channeling Some celestial utopia called Arcturus Where she claims to have been.

Please feel free to let me know where I need to improve! I’m fourteen years old and only an amateur, so a few suggestions would be greatly appreciated. Thank you, love and light 🙂

#79 I don’t know why he was so mad Did he not get his mail Was he already mad Or did he only get bills

He swung his arm with force He caused a loud bang He hurt his own hand He left with some blood

He is the man that punched the mailbox His hand dripped blood on it He left it with a dent He left it alone after that

That’s great Michael, thank you for sharing your response to one of the prompts!

Awesome! That was simple and yet creative

Interesting tips and keywords for boosting inspiration. I’ve found some good topic for start writing. Thanks

sleepless nights (#96)

it’s never a strangled cry that drags me from my dreams, but a gentle whisper, there to nudge the socks off my feet, and settle me back into the sheets. i seem to wake before i’ve had a chance to fall to rest.

why is it that i can never sleep, but always dream?

sleepless nights rule my life and drag me by my toes, throwing me into a sky of black and blue. not a single star can break through this spillage. and i sit and wonder in a sea of sheets, rippling around me, why my mind can swim these dark, tangling waters and i never need to take a breath.

have you ever noticed how static-filled the dark is? because when i lay buried under these burdens and blankets, the world seems ready to crumble under my grasp.

i can’t sleep, but i can dream, of days when i wasn’t pulled struggling from bed but awoken into the light. i wonder how i ever survived the grainy sky’s midnight troubles, the oil spill of its thunderclouds, the sandpaper raspiness of the three a.m. earth against my throat.

oh, how i can never sleep in a world that threatens to fall apart.

this is amazing! i hope i can be this good one day

once again beautiful <3

Thank you so much for these prompts! They’re so thought-provoking.

You’re welcome! Glad you enjoy them!

Take me back to those days, When I was allowed to dream, Where no one use to scream. Take me back to those days, When I was a child, Where I never use to find reasons to smile. Take me Take back to those days, When I never used to lie, Where I never used to shy. Take me back those carefreee days, When I was far away from school days. Take me back to those days , where every one used to prase, no matter how foolish i behave. Take me back to those days, when i wasn’t stuck between fake people. Take me back to the day I was born, So that I could live those days again………….

so mine is basically a mix between 76 and 77… I made it for my literature club i recently began trying to make.

‘Listen to me’ Listen to me your words mean more than you think your opinion is worthy to be shared your songs are capable of being sung

Listen to me

your smile is bright your frown shows nothing more than you should be cared for like you care for us.

your laughter is delightful and so is everything else

dont let the past go hurt you find strength in the experience

are you listening to me?

can you here me?

because YOU matter

Nice, thank you for sharing!

Prompt #1 “Untouchable”

Grasping Reaching Searching for the untouchable The indescribable On the tip of my tongue My fingertips Close to my heart But warping my brain Yet understood in the depths of my soul Emotions undiscovered Words Unsaid Deep in the depths of my mind Hand outstretched Lingering on the edge Eyes wide open But somehow still blind Unattainable But still in the hearts of The Brave The Curious The Resilient They Seek the unseekable They pursue the unattainable Each man seeing it in a different aspect Each of their visions blurred Each distorted by Experiences Traumas Wishes Dreams Filtering what’s untouchable

Thank you, glad you enjoy it!

I had good inspiration from #51, locked in a jar. I used it more metaphorically instead of literally. So here it is: glass walls, lid screwed on tight, can’t escape, not even at night. From the inside, looking out, this is not who I’m supposed to be. I’m supposed to be bigger, I’m supposed to be free, not stuck in a jar, no room to breathe. I need to move, I need to soar, I need to be able to speak my opinions and more. So as I look down at my tiny self, in this glass jar, “let me out, I can’t take it anymore”, I say to the bigger me, the one ignoring my tiny pleas.

Just wanted to add a twist to this promt. I’m just a beginner in the art of poetry, but I tried. If anyone has any creative criticism, go ahead! #16: our of order

My brain is out of order My thoughts have filled it to the brim Of my deepest thoughts of who I am Who we are As people We are out of order Never focusing on what we want Our passions All we ever get is work on top of work Pushing us down and down Like a giant hand Squeezing us into the depths of our depressions Until We can do anything But take it Anymore

Thank you Ash for sharing your take on the prompt with us!

Thank you ASH for reminding we can do anything if we try

Was inspired by #77 listen up Listen up…….! When would you listen up! Seems! you have given up! No matter who shut you up! Stand straight and look up!

Look up don’t be discouraged Let you heart be filled with courage Listen up and be encouraged Let life be sweet as porridge

You might have been down Like you have no crown Because deep down You were shut down

There is still hope When there is life Yes! You can still cope If you can see the light Yes! Even in the night

Oh listen up! Please listen up and take charge, You are better than the best Listen up! And oh! Please listen up.

beautifully written!

I wrote a poem using prompt 21 and I’m so proud of it. Comment if you want me to post it🤓

I bet the poem you wrote about prompt 21 is really good. I would like to read it please.

Mental prison, what a way to be trapped, being hidden, being snapped,

Clear glass is all i feel, apart from people, I hope I heal, I will never be equal,

I am different I am hurt raging currents people put on high alert but no one cares

No one dreads many tears I only have so many more threads

One day I’ll be gone but no one would care I will run away from the death chair

But until then

Mental prison what a way to be trapped being hidden being snapped

One day this will all blow away someday I will be molded out of clay but until then I will be lead astray

This is so darn awesome. It’s so deep and evokes the deepest of feelings🥰

I wrote almost the same thing omg I’m turning it into a contest entry

Inspired by No. 1! I am completely new to poetry, but I love it so much already! Here it is.

Perfection is Untouchable-

Perfection waiting, out of reach

Will I never touch it?

It always remain

Untouchable

No matter how hard I try

I will never quite reach

It will always remain

Though many people have tried

And seemed to have come close

But perfection’s not the goal

‘Cause we can’t quite grasp it

Perfection will always be

For all eternity

Looks like you are off to a great start!

Of Course, Silly Billy Me

”Well shit, I guess I lost my opportunity” the youngster retort

You see, for him, it’s all about his hurt – but she’s so educated, knows more about the rules of English than the rest of us.

Thus, to me she said… You cannot use curse words in a court report… you need to paraphrase his quote.

Into her spastic face I smiled – and pled my case

If you were my English professor back in the day, I could only imagine how much further in life I would have been…

”Don’t you mean farther in life?”

Of course, silly billy me.

This poem is called Secret Keeper and was inspired by #92. I hope you like it.

Everyone has a secret, Whether it be their own, Or someone else’s, We all have one.

But what if, You met someone, Who had a secret so big, That telling anyone would lead to horrible things.

And what if, That person told someone, And what they told them, Was more horrible than anything they could have ever imagined.

What if, That person told everyone, And when the parents, Of the kid with the secret found out, They were furious.

What if, They kept doing horrible things, Even though everyone knew, Even though they knew it was wrong.

And finally, What if, No one ever helped, The little kid with the biggest secret.

On number 28 : Poision I wrote a poem for it and would like to share it. The poision of friends and love

Beaten,she lies there. For they may be mistaken. Laughter rings throughout the school halls; a pure disaster. The dissapearence of parents hast caused this yet no one stops it. “Your a disgrace!” She heard them say. While in place she cries “I don’t belong here! Perhaps im out of place..” But she is not misplaced rather.. Shes lost in space.

I miss when you called me baby And I was in your arms saftely I know we drive eachother crazy But I miss callin you my baby

Those restless nights when I couldn’t sleep You calmed me down with your technique Always reminded me I’m strong not weak If only I let you speak

My heart only beats for you My feelings for you only grew You understood what I was going through I will never regret knowing you

Your smile melted my heart I wish we could restart And I could be apart Of a man I see as a work of art!

Stary night painting poem I guess ill call it

I raised my paint brush to my canvas So I could help people understand this This feeling of emotion for this painting has spoken I see the light as opportunity As for the whole thing it symbolizes unity The swirls degnify elegance and uncertainty For this painting executes this perfectly Where as my paintings let me adress Everything I feel I need to express!

#56 WHITE NOISE Faded away In the background Unheard Not visible

Eardrums splitting from the screams Yet none seem to care Can even hear my cries for help? For I am screaming as loud as I can

Are you? For all we hear Are whispers in here

Fading away in the background Unheard, invisible Yet it’s there, not loud enough Not noticeable, but there White noise Blank and pure In the background Faded away, yet so clear.

Just need to listen So open your ears She’s screaming for help But it’s muted to your ears

So open ’em up And listen to the calls For faded away, in the background Not visible, but clear. White Noise. It’s there.

Hi guys, I’m kind of late joining in. I read the prompts and the poems posted and this community is a creative bunch. I liked #35 People You Have Known. I want to share it with you guys.

Bern, a friend from grade school was my seat mate as well Rob had always teased me so my young life was hell Neesa was pretty, she knew that she was my crush Miss Homel, our teacher was always in a rush Played ball with Buco and I got hit on my head Fell in love with Cia, dreamt of her in my bed Had a tattoo with Marcus and called it “The Day” Chub challenged me to eat two pies, I said, “No way” I had to go far away so I wrote to Charie In this new place I found a friend in Perry My Grandma Leng passed away, she was a doll My grumpy uncle, Uncle Zar was teased by all These people have touched my life for worse or better Won’t be forgotten, be remembered forever

I hope that you liked it. Thanks guys. Thanks Think Written.

#37 fix it Still new to poems, and I haven’t written one in a while. Criticism is welcome because I need some more inspiration since I haven’t been getting any.

This is the body repair shop where we fix humans that have stopped how may we help you?

the girl stumbled upon the front door and spilled her list of regrets out into the open

“we’re sorry, miss” “but i’m afraid your first kiss will just be a dear old reminisce”

“your heart is also one that cannot be mended” “for every shattered piece- their lives just simply ended” the sewing kit can’t sew the fragments of her heart back because there were way too many to backtrack

she cried her heart out and it went “plop!” her tears like a river and like a lightbulb flickering its last light she too, took her last breath and was put to death

This is the body repair shop where we fix humans that have stopped “it seems we have failed again today” “sorry we’ll just try harder again another day”

I did poetry prompt #7. I wrote about the street I grew up on. Luverne Luverne, I moved onto you at the age of three. We like to race up and down your pavement road, either biking or running. You keep safe the house that I grew up in, one that has six humans and three dogs. You shelter other houses, too, that hold family friends and best friends to last a lifetime.

Luverne, we love you.

-Margaret McMahon

I was inspired by the prompt poison. Monster Roses are beautiful and delicate, but flawed.

Every rose has thorns that cause you to bleed.

Its innocence and beauty draws you in.

Only then when you touch it, it poisons you.

Am I really such an ugly monster, that plants pain an watches it spread?

I would say no.

Wouldn’t we all?

But maybe, just maybe a rose doesn’t notice it’s thorns.

-Lilliana Pridie

You said you’re only just starting?! That was sooo good! No criticism here. 🙂

Sorry, that was meant for “Ash” but yours was amazing too! 🙂

Prompt number 8: Street signs STOP Stop look and listen Stop at the corner Stop at the red light Stop for pedestrians Stop for cyclists Stop for animals Stop doing that Stop drop and roll Stop doing something else Stop shouting Stop whispering Stop talking Stop being quiet Stop posting cute cat videos Stop forgetting your appointments Stop making plans without me Stop eating all the yummies Stop running Stop the insanity Stop shopping Stop the never-ending commentary in my head Stop stopping Stop

Thanks for making this site and all its suggestions and especially this space to post our work, available!

I wrote from prompt #72 about moonlight. Shining down like a spotlight, Illuminating everything around you. The pure white light, Paint your surroundings in a soft glow. The round ball in the sky, speckled with craters like the freckles on your face. Looking down upon the sleeping earth, A nightlight for those still awake, a nightlight for you. Guides you, pulls you, lulls you towards it. It caresses your face with the light, casting away the shadows of the night.

I liked it I just wrote a small poem dedicated to my tutor and tutor just loved it .I used 21 good bye . I liked it really.😊

I just took up writing so bear with me.

Based on #72 “Moonlight”

A full bed Just the left side filled Soft, cold, baby blue sheets wrap around bare feet

She sweetly invites herself in Dressing the dark in a blue hue through cypress filled air, like 5 A.M. drives in January on the misty Northern coast.

Damp hair dances across grey skin, Waltzing with the breeze to Radiohead’s “How to Disappear Completely”

Euphoria slow dances with Tranquility Heavy eyes give in to sleep

Ladder to the Sky I want to climb the ladder to the sky I’m sure all would be well and that I could fly The ladder would be sturdy but still give me a fright Because looking down I’ll realized I’ve climbed many heights The higher I climb the greater the fall The greater the fall, the greater the sprawl But if i ever get to the sky up high I would be sure to hug you and say “goodbye” Once I’ve climbed the ladder I’ll know Sometimes its okay to look far down below Life is full of failure but soon I’ll find Happiness is a place, and not of the mind We all have ladders to climb and lives to live We all have a little piece of us that we can give Because when we climb that ladder to the sky We should think “No, life never passed me by”

Hi Ray, I love your piece.It gives one courage to face the challenges of live and move on.

Thanks for sharing the prompts Chelle Stein. I wrote this sometimes ago before coming to this site and I believed prompts #1 and #88 inspired my writing it. kindly help me vet it and give your criticism and recommendation. It is titled “SHADOW”.

My shadow your shadow My reflection your reflection My acts your acts

No one sees me,no one sees you Programmed by the Ubiquitous, To act as our bystander in realism

Virtuous iniquitous rises on that day To vindicate to incriminate My deeds your deeds.

Thanks for the seemingly endless amounts of writing prompts. I’ve been working on a poem, but it isn’t much.

She’s got my head spinning, Around and around; She’s all I think about, I can’t help but wondering, Does she feel the same?

Of course not, I’m just a fool; I’m nothing special, Just another person; Bland and dull.

How could a girl like her, love a guy like me? But the way she looks at me, Her smile, I can’t help but to feel flustered; Is this just my imagination?

It must be.

Wow! That’s exactly how I feel! Amazing poem!

Thanks so much, I’m glad you like it. 🙂

A massive thank you to thinkwritten.com for these amazing prompts. Some of these prompts have now formed the basis of my upcoming poetry collection (Never Marry a Writer) scheduled for release on January 1 2021. I will also be leaving a “Thank you” message for this website in the acknowledgements section. You have inspired a whole poetry collection out of nowhere which is highly commendable. So booktiful that!

That is wonderful news!

So I didn’t use any of the prompts but I wanted some feedback on this; it’s not great but I’m working on improving my writing skills

I am a girl who is broken easily and loves music I wonder if things will ever be normal again I hear light screaming through the darkness I want freedom from the chains trapping me in my fear I am a girl who is broken easily and loves music

I pretend to float in the ocean, letting the waves carry me away from reality I feel a presence of hope like a flame on my bare skin I touch the eye of a storm, grasping the stillness it brings I worry about wars that a spreading like wildfires I cry when I’m not with the people I love I am a girl who is broken easily and loves music

I understand feeling hopeless when you have no control over what is happening I say our differences make us special I dream to be a nurse, to help others when they can’t help themselves I try to do my best in everything I hope that all mankind will stop fighting and live in peace I am a girl who is broken easily and loves music

HELLO EVERYONE.. THIS SITE IS JUST WOW, AS AND WHEN I WAS OUT OF TOPICS OR WAS NOT ABLE TO THINK UPON IT ..IT HELPED ME A LOT WITH HINTS TO BEGIN WITH MY ANOTHER POEM .. I M NOT A PROFESSIONAL WRITER BUT JUST A STARTER AND A STUDENT OF 12TH DIVISION.. I WOULD LIKE TO SHARE ONE OF MY SPECIAL CREATION , ALTHOUGH NOT FROM THIS SITE. HOPE YOU ALL WILL LIKE IT.

AU REVOIR GOODBYE UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN, I BID U FAREWELL UNTIL WE TIE AGAIN, SEE YOU SOON , SEE YOU AGAIN, LETS SAY GOODBYE FOR A BETTER DAY.

THE FIRE THAT BURNS IN OUR HEART , THE MEMORIES THAT PRESERVES OUR PAST. ITS NOT THE GOODBYE THAT WRENCH THE HEART , BUT THE FLASHBACKS THAT HAVE PASSED.

I RECOLLECT AND RECOUNT , MOMENTS THAT ARE HALF FADED AND RENOWNED, I ALWAYS FEEL SO CHARMED, THAT I HAVE SOMETHING, WHICH MAKES ME SAYING GOODBYE SO DAMN HARD.

TAKE A TRIP DOWN MEMORY LANE, WALK ON THE STREETS WITH GOLDEN TRAILS. FOR I M NOT GONNA WAIL, BECAUSE I KNOW I WILL MEET YOU SOON ON THE FORTHCOMING DAY.

I wrote a poem based on #101.

Thank you so much for the inspiration!!

And then it was there. What I had been missing. What is it? You may ask. Well, it’s quite simple actually. It’s the joy of music. It’s the joy of sitting down and making music. It’s the joy you feel when you look up at people admiring you. The joy you see in peoples’ eyes. I don’t know why I ever stopped that. The piano sat on the stage. Dusty and untouched. It’d been decades since I’ve seen it. I haven’t come to this stage since I lost her. After the concert. The last time I ever heard her voice. And yet here I am years and years later. Knowing why I haven’t been happy in so long. Of course pain is always gonna be there, But as I played a soft note on the piano, All of it seemed to disappear. It was as if all the weight on my shoulders got lifted. The melodious notes resonated around the hall. And for a few moments, I forgot about all the pain. I forgot about the tears. I forgot about the heartache. And as the last notes echoed around the hall, I was truly happy.

Prompt #92: Coming home with secrets

My mother’s radio sits in the balcony And it greets me with electric static Coming to this sheltering home is somewhat problematic Cause the walls are too thin, and it’s back to reality. Back to the running water that conceals the noise of cracks Crumbling behind my peeling mask, holding my face with wax An unraveled thread masking the makeup smile of a wakeup call That runs down to my chin and I keep under wraps. I take invitations to the mall, yet the space around me seems so small Nevertheless, I show my teeth with a big, shiny grin And suck a trembling breath through their thin slit Happy to wear tight jeans, to stop me from an embarrassing fall. The bath hurts on my skin, but even more to protect screams from the halls My head floats in the water, but feels trapped in its walls It cracks my head open with all these secrets inside me Before a blink of an eye, to my room I’d already flee. Not to the radio playing static or streets that won’t let me be But to under the blankets, where no one can really see The struggle to be a walking, talking, breathing secret That was thrown to the ocean in a bottle, wishing to be free. However, the words untold keep coming like ever so frequent Like adrenalized filled cops in pursue of an escapee delinquent All the more, my doppelganger and I have come to an agreement To take these secrets to our grave, that we nowadays call home.

Recipe for Happiness

Start with friendship, Then add time, A dash of humor, And forgotten binds. Mix it up, Till blended well, And make sure, To remember the smell. Put that bowl, To the side, Grab a new one, Add grateful sighs. Then add family, And a smile, Then sit back, And mix awhile. To that bowl, Add a laugh, A cheerful cry, And blissful past. Whip until, There’s heavy peaks, Then pour in, What we all seek. Combine the two, Then mix it well, Spray the pan, And pour it out. Cherish the memory, The beautiful scent, Of unity, And happiness.

My mother died when I was younger so this poem is about me sitting on the lawn at night shortly after she passed away. I was imagining better times, which is why in my poem I talk about how the girl is imagining ‘walking on the moon’ and she is gripping the grass tight and trying to remember the warmth of her mothers palms.

Sitting in the blue black grass She’s walking on the moon Watching specks of silver dance To the mellow tune Her fingers gripping the grass so tight She can almost feel The warmth of her mothers palms

The winds cold fingers

The winds cold fingers Tousle with my hair Loosening the soil My sobs are carried away on the wind

I would love to share this list (credited to you) with students participating in a virtual library program on poetry. Would that be possible/acceptable? These are great!

Wow! Thank you so much for all these awesome prompts! I’ve written two poems already!

Prompt #1 AND #15, untouchable and less than 25 words. i’m lowk popping off??

Apollo Commands the sun, which squints so brightly, scorches and freckles. i want her hand on mine. searing pain fears, still i reach out, and bubble.

I looked at the word “Duct tape” And thought about it. Its not anywhere in this poem at all but it inspired it yk?

Feathers are Soft

Feathers are soft People aren’t

Plushies are soft People aren’t

Pillows are soft People aren’t

People are mean Not nice Not joyful

well my poem is only loosely based on the second prompt because I found I had too much to say about Sundays. I would love to share it with you but these comments don’t support links.

Inspired by number 55 in list of poetry suggestions. Poem to song guitar chords. —————————————————-

Carnegie Hall

D I was feeling ecstatic G when I went to the attic A and found my auld busking D guitar

D But I felt consternation G I disturbed hibernation A at first it seemed quite D bazaar

D When I blew off the dust G it smelt like old must A but t’was time to give it a D bar

D It was then I heard flapping G which sounded like clapping A my first ever round of D applause

D It stayed with the beat G while tapping my feet A I kept playing despite all my D flaws

D I took early retirement G though not a requirement A “Bad Buskers” all get D menopause

D I’m strumming the strings G and the echo it rings A but no jingling of coins as they D fall

D So I play here alone G as to what I was prone A never made it to Carnegie D Hall

D Time to call it a day G as they used to say A for no encores or no curtain D call

D There’s a butterfly G in my guitar

D There’s a butterfly G in my guitar.

Finn Mac Eoin

23rd July 2022

I love this Finn, where can we listen to your song?

Hello I wrote this in remberence of 9/11. Its now sitting in ground zero. A ordinary day to start  Same as any other Dad goes off to work again, Child goes with their mother. Vibrant busy city,  busses, cars galore Workers in the offices, from bottom to top floor. Throughout our life situations Hard times often do arise, Unfortunatly we never think of saying last goodbyes. That’s exactly what happened on September 11th 2001 A day that turned the world so cold When tragedy begun. Twin towers has exploded Co ordinate attacks, Al-Qaeda behind the planes That seemed to be hijacked. Thousands were killed instantly Some lives hang by a thread, Calls were made to loved ones Onlookers face of dread. Fears & screams while running As smoke fills up the air, News reports on live tv Helplessly they stare. On the news we hear the voices of all who are caught inside, Lying next to injured ones Or sadly ones who died. One man makes a phone call My darling wife it’s me, I’m sorry that I upset you And that we disagreed. My offices have been attacked they’re crumbling to the ground, A massive explosion hit our floor then instantly no sound. If I do not make it I’m stating from the heart, I love you darling, & in your life I’m glad to play a part. Tell the kids daddy loves them Continue well at school, Stand up for all your beliefs Don’t be taken for a fool. The wife is crying down the line Darling please don’t go, I love you darling so so much I’ve always told you so. He replied my darling im feeling really kind of weak, Breathlessly he’s coughing, he can hardly speak. If you ever need me just look up to the stars, I will hear your voices And heal up any scars. Suddenly all was quiet The wife screams down the fone, Darling can you hear me, don’t leave me here alone. The towers live on tv start to crumble to the ground, Clouds of smoke then fill the air The world in shock no sound. Crying at the images of all who has lost their lives , Mums,dad’s , Nan’s & grandads, husbands & wives. Rescue teams included and all those left behind To All who were among them,  all who did survive, All who were injured All who sadly died. Never in this lifetime that day will be the same For ground zero holds the memories Of every single name.

Those hero’s on that awful day who never thought about their life Who fought to save the innocent To keep each sole alive Those who were pulled to safety Those we lost in vein, Never be forgotten The pain will still remain We will never forget that tragedy For the days will never be the same. But may I say with all my heart In God we put our faith United we stand For eternity were safe Amen

This is a beautifully sad poem. You really wrote your way into my heart. <3

I wrote a poem inspired by number 72. Not really sticking to what it said but thought this was kinda close to what it said…

After dusk, the almost eternal night. The dark, winter sky, full of millions of tiny stars. The sky, a color of blue that seems darker than black.

Sunset, full of an array of colors. Purple, orange, pink, and yellow. Nearly all dark blue.

Right as dawn appears, practically the same sunset hours later. Light wispy clouds fill the sky. Orange, pink, and light blue diffuse in the sky as the sun awakens

Wrote one based off the recipe one (I don’t remember which number)

From the Kitchen of: any teenager ever For: Disaster Ingredients: Social anxiety Existential dread A crush Zero sense of self worth A single class together And no social cues

Steps: (Warning: Do NOT do this if your crush is not single) You’re going to try to talk to your crush. Just say hi. If that doesn’t work, don’t go forward with the rest of these steps. Once you’ve talked to your crush, overthink every single thing you said to them. Do it. Then you’re going to decide you’re stupid for overthinking it. Next, you’re going to wait until they begin speaking to you on their own accord. If they don’t, overthink some more. One day you will think your crush is waving to you in the hallway. They won’t be. They’ll be waving to their friends behind you. Play it cool and pretend you’re doing the exact same thing. Run into the bathroom and cringe at yourself. Keep talking to them and try to partner up with them for a project. If they say no, don’t continue further; you’ll only embarrass yourself. If they say yes, say you need their number for the project. Call them “about the project” and eventually segway into other topics. Continue doing this until you guys eventually call all the time for no reason. Ask them out. If they say no, do not, I repeat, do not act like it was a dare or a joke. It ruins everything. Say “oh okay. Well, can we still be friends?” and continue from that point. If they say yes, go on a date with them outside of school before asking them to be your partner. Eventually break up and either get your heartbroken or break someone else’s heart.

And that is how you make an average teenage disaster. Enjoy!

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Find Poetry resources | TPT

Learn more about poetry resources.

Poetry encourages students to engage with language, explore their thoughts and feelings, and connect with the broader human experience. If you’re a teacher or parent looking for printable and digital poetry resources, look no further. TPT has an extensive collection of resources, created by other teachers, that are designed to help with any need across grade levels.

If you want to make poets out of younger students in elementary grades, then acrostic poems or fill in the blank poems are the perfect place to start. (In fact, many poetry resources on TPT include templates so your students can easily get started producing their own poetry, whether it’s a haiku, or limerick.) For older students in middle and high school, you can find an array of resources to teach them about everything from iambic pentameter, figurative language, to famous poets from history. With plenty of TPT resources at your fingertips, you can sharpen your students’ poetry skills in no time.

Fun and engaging poetry activities to try

Teaching students about poetry can be an engaging and creative experience. Here are a few ideas for poetry activities that you can find on TPT to help you introduce and explore the world of poetry with your students:

Poetic Device Scavenger Hunt

Distribute some poems and have students identify and highlight poetic devices like similes, metaphors, alliteration, onomatopoeia, and imagery. Discuss what these are and the overall impact on the reader's experience.

Poetry Analysis Jigsaw

Divide students into small groups, assigning each group a different poem. Have each group analyze the assigned poem's themes, tone, and literary devices, and present their findings to the class.

Poetry Slam or Performance

Organize a poetry slam where students can perform poems they’ve written themselves or those written by famous poets. This will help build confidence and strengthen their public speaking skills.

Writing Poetry from Different Perspectives

Ask students to write a poem from the perspective of an inanimate object or an animal to foster empathy and encourage creative, out-of-the-box thinking.

Creating Found Poetry

Provide magazines, newspapers, or online articles. Have students cut out interesting words and phrases, and use them to create their own unique poems.

These (and other!) activities can help deepen your students’ appreciation for poetry and enhance their creative writing skills.

Frequently asked questions about teaching poetry

What types of poetry resources are available on tpt.

There are many different types of poetry resources sold by Sellers on TPT. Some popular poetry lessons include learning how to write haikus, acrostic poems, limericks, and free verse.

How do I find poetry resources on TPT?

Educators can save time preparing poetry lessons with resources created by experienced teachers. Simply start a search for poetry resources on the TPT marketplace, and filter by grade level, price, and/or resource type to find materials that've been proven to work in classrooms like yours. No matter what you’re teaching, there are plenty of poetry lessons and activities sold by Sellers on TPT that are tailored to meet your students' skill levels.

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