Reading Poetry Aloud

Bring the words to life and make them dance!

Not all of us enjoy “performing” poetry. Or speaking in public. Whether we are competent - or even quite good at it - it’s just not our “thing.” If you enjoy performing at open mics and poetry slams, this newsletter may not be useful to you, but I hope you’ll add your tips and techniques to the comments, as I’m bound to miss a few.

Even if it’s not a joy, most of us can muster the wherewithal to read, recite, or perform our poems. And most of us can get better at it.

I asked poets, “What are some of your pet peeves when listening to poetry spoken aloud?” The first answer I got made me laugh out loud:

“People who suddenly acquire a mid-Atlantic accent when they read their poem aloud.”

He’s heard me read and swears he didn’t notice me doing this, but I tend to acquire an awkwardly British accent, which gets weirder as I self-consciously attempt to stop talking that way. Another poet suggested that perhaps that’s because poets were more likely than the average viewer to watch BBC dramas. That’s a kind theory, anyway. I have noticed others affecting accents and speech patterns that are not their normal way of speaking, and I wonder if they’re even aware that they’re doing it? Here’s a fun bit of trivia that came out of this discussion - did you know that there has emerged an Antarctic accent?

My pet peeves? I have two:

“Rambling preambles and self-conscious disclaimers.”

Avoid making excuses, disclaimers, or apologies. When reading your own poems, don’t say, “I wrote this in 15 minutes last night but kept getting interrupted by my colicky baby,” or “This isn’t very good, but, well, you’ll see…” If an introductory note is needed for context, prepare one as if for someone else to read. Keep it short and sweet - let the poem stand on its own legs. Prefacing a poem with an apology for how good it’s not is like arguing with a compliment even before you get one. Don’t do it.

“Stumbling over unfamiliar words.”

Sometimes we read others’ poems and stumble over unfamiliar words; sometimes, we write poetry containing familiar words we’ve only read in books - they’re not unfamiliar, but we’ve never heard them spoken aloud and don’t know how to pronounce them. Sometimes, we know how to pronounce them, but our tongues trip over them, anyway. That may be an indicator that we ought to rewrite the poem, if it’s one of our own. I once wrote a speech for Toastmasters that contained the word, “encephalography.” I know the word and its pronunciation, but my mouth just won’t cooperate. Before giving the speech at a contest, I changed it to “brain scan.” The technical term was not the point of the speech, and there was no point in drawing so much attention to it.

Another mentioned:

“Speaking too quietly.”

Yes! This is not the time for “inside voices.” Imagine that you are speaking to a person at the back of the room. Stand up tall to make room for your lungs. Use your diaphragm when you breath, speak, or sing - see Diaphragmatic Breathing Exercises & Benefits (clevelandclinic.org) to support your voice.

For many listeners, their pet peeve is:

“Speaking too fast.”

Ugh. I’m often accused of speaking too fast! And it’s hard to slow down, because I feel like I’m exaggerating every word and syllable, and it feels to me like I’m being condescending. It feels unnatural. Speaking slowly takes practice, but it is important if you want listeners to understand what you’re saying.

And finally:

“Speaking in a monotone.”

Speaking in a monotone robs the poem of its energy and loses the audience’s interest quickly. Practice reading the poem silently, several times. Then practice reading it aloud. Try standing in front of a mirror, watching yourself as you read, or reading it to a friend across the room. Record yourself, then play back the audio or video to listen and watch for any rough spots. You might imagine that you are acting out the poem, or saying it as lines in a play.

In all cases, practice makes…better.

Tips for Reading Poetry Aloud

1. Suggested by Billy Collins: Read the title of the poem and the author’s name. Read any introductory notes given by the poet (but see #2, below). Repeat the title. Read the poem, then repeat the title again.
   
2. Avoid affectations, such as taking on an accent you don’t use in everyday speech.
   
3. Avoid “rambling preambles,” excuses, disclaimers, or apologies. Let the poem stand on its own legs. Never argue with a compliment and certainly never argue with one before you get it.
   
4. Look up unfamiliar words and practice their proper pronunciation. Consider a rewrite if it’s still causing your tongue to trip and poem is your own.
   
5. Speak with enough volume everyone in the room can hear you clearly. You don’t have to shout, but make sure people at the back of the room understand every word. Practice diaphragmatic breathing and “project” your voice.
   
6. Speak s-l-o-w-l-y and clearly. Talking too fast is a sign of nervousness. Never let ’em see you sweat!
   
7. Use vocal variety and energy in reading the poem to hold the audience’s interest and attention.
   
8. Memorize the poem if you can, so that you can make eye contact with your audience.
   
9. Practice and don’t be afraid to ask for feedback on your delivery.

Just for Fun: “The Exquisite Corpse” Game

Oh, that sounds ghoulish, doesn’t it? The name comes from one of the lines that resulted when a group of Surrealists played the game in Paris in the 1910s and 1920s: "Le cadavre exquis boira le vin nouveau." ("The exquisite corpse shall drink the new wine.")

Exquisite corpse - Wikipedia

I tried this out with family, recently, and the only other person who had heard of the game was my 9 year old grandson, who had played it in Art class in 3rd Grade.

We wrote a collaborative poem following the traditional adjective-noun-verb-adjective-noun format on a theme of “water.” No structure or theme is required, but I thought it might lead to a somewhat more coherent result that a group of mixed ages (9 to 60) and interests would enjoy. And here it is:

Translucent waves flow over coral.
Majestic cascade plummeting, breathtaking feature -
Wet seahorses dream about dry meadows -
Liquid cloud snows ice cream.

We also created two drawings: an alien creature and a train. Interestingly, the first person’s alien head had no eyes, nose, or mouth, but the second person (without peeking at the first section!) gave the alien eye-stalks in the armpit beneath a tentacled arm.

Give it a try!

And please, if you have any pet peeves or suggestions for reading poetry aloud, let me know in the comments.