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Poetry Prompt: Choose Risk Over Cuteness —The Acrostic Poem

By Callie Feyen 16 Comments

What do you risk when write an acrostic?

Hide and Reveal in the Acrostic Poem

What is that relationship where you both know that something’s there, and it’s not that either of you are afraid to admit it, but it’s more fun to hint, to tease, to keep leaving clues for the other to figure out? I don’t know what it’s called, but it’s quite a rush to get as close as you can to the tantalizingly unsaid.

Never in a million years would I have compared the acrostic poem to this kind of mystery, until I read Tania Runyan’s chapter on the form in How to Write a Form Poem.

I’ve always considered the acrostic the cutie pie of poetry. It’s what you get the construction paper out for. It’s the kind of poem where you use block lettering for each first letter, and even better, include a design inside each letter that symbolizes what it is you’re writing about — you know, to really drive that point home. (As if that is what poetry is concerned about.)

But Runyan encourages us to “choose risk over cuteness,” and suddenly I am in high school again, holding a note from a boy who’s written a message in code in the margins of the paper — just outside that faint pink line where teachers tell us not to take our pens and pencils. It will take me the rest of the day to figure out the message. Forget the Pythagorean theorem! Who cares about conjugating verbs in French? Give Edgar Allan Poe his heart back! WHAT IS THIS GUY TRYING TO TELL ME HERE IN THE MARGINS?!?!

What deliciousness it was to figure out his message, but the delight was even sweeter when I could continue with a secret message of my own. Nothing was stated, except I knew, and he knew that I knew.

This is the attitude Runyan takes with acrostics, and indeed, it is risky. This is not the form for dull No. 2 pencils and Elmer’s glue. We don’t want to be told what “L” stands for. We want to feel it creeping up our back, warming our cheeks, pulling at the sides of our mouths.

underneath the science lab table
nobody can see that
she moves her hand towards his
and ever so slightly brushes his hand.
It is a gesture unreadable.
“Did she twitch?” he might
think, except
he knows, or rather he feels that
it is deliberate and he remembers that every
night, the last thing they do before
going to bed is check in with each other, long, lingering texts. He
smiles and shifts silently; intertwines his finger with hers.

Try It

This week, write an acrostic poem, but choose risk over cuteness, as Runyan encourages us to do.

Featured Poem

Thank you to everyone who participated in last week’s poetry prompt. Here’s one from Jillian Hughes we enjoyed:

Never Broken

20 months and a thousand broken
neural pathways are all that separate
me and you. A pair of wringing hands,
a broken heart, a mismatched brain.
We all wanted to solve your puzzle,
put your pieces back together.

Did we do enough, when we were together?
Did you feel lost? Did you feel broken?
Like some sick kind of riddle? An unsolvable puzzle?
Or were you always able to separate
heart from head, soul from brain?
Was our love sturdy? Could you hold it in your hands?

Was it too heavy? Too hot? Make you yank back your hands?
Were you sick of holding our hopes together?
I hope you found solace in the corners of your brain.
Maybe we were always the ones that were broken.
What God has joined together, no man should separate.
Maybe you were always a poem, never a puzzle.

Maybe I ask too many questions, I’m too hung up on puzzles.
I should focus on things I can hold in my hands,
Things I can’t easily break or separate.
Like me and you. Siblings. Forever together.
A bond that can never, ever be broken.
A bond forged by heart, not by brain.

I hope you know I love your brain.
It makes me wonder, gives me pause, makes me puzzle.
Teaches me how to honor the beauty in the broken.
The bruised fruit, the lined hands.
Don’t you love how wisdom and struggle are always together?
A pair of tangled threads that refuse to separate.

I’m still learning how to separate
The truth in my bones from the knowledge in my brain.
All of it blurry, muddled together.
Like some kind of thousand piece puzzle.
Isn’t the answer written all over your hands?
Does it break your heart to know we’re all broken?

I refuse to separate the pieces of your puzzle.
I’ll honor your brain by holding your hand.
If we are together, we will never be broken.

—Jillian Hughes

 

Photo by William Warby Creative Commons, via Flickr. Post by Callie Feyen.

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Callie Feyen
Callie Feyen
Callie Feyen likes Converse tennis shoes and colorful high heels, reading the poetry of Gerard Manley Hopkins, and the Twilight series. Her favorite outfit has always been a well-worn pair of jeans and a white T-shirt, but she wants hoop skirts with loads of tulle to come back into style. Her favorite line from literature comes from Sharon Creech’s Absolutely Normal Chaos: “I don’t know who I am yet. I’m still waiting to find out.” Feyen has served as the At-Risk Literacy Specialist in the Ypsilanti Public Schools and is the author of Twirl: my life with stories, writing & clothes and The Teacher Diaries: Romeo and Juliet.
Callie Feyen
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Filed Under: Acrostics, Blog, How to Write a Form Poem, poetry, poetry prompt, poetry teaching resources, writer's group resources, writing prompt, writing prompts

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About Callie Feyen

Callie Feyen likes Converse tennis shoes and colorful high heels, reading the poetry of Gerard Manley Hopkins, and the Twilight series. Her favorite outfit has always been a well-worn pair of jeans and a white T-shirt, but she wants hoop skirts with loads of tulle to come back into style. Her favorite line from literature comes from Sharon Creech’s Absolutely Normal Chaos: “I don’t know who I am yet. I’m still waiting to find out.” Feyen has served as the At-Risk Literacy Specialist in the Ypsilanti Public Schools and is the author of Twirl: my life with stories, writing & clothes and The Teacher Diaries: Romeo and Juliet.

Comments

  1. Megan Willome says

    April 26, 2021 at 9:19 am

    Love that alligator!

    My acrostic is taken from a line from the novel “My Sister, the Serial Killer,” by Oyinkan Braithwaite.

    Comfort, Texas

    Love is that drive down 87 and I-10
    On silent trips, day after day,
    Veering away from the deer
    Ensconced along the edges.

    I like this drive, you
    Say, break the wall of

    Neglect between us, this
    Open wound we ignore,
    Twitchy, our separate fingers fiddle

    Alone. The clouds crowd us. I ask,

    What do you miss? You
    Exhale your answer: Sky. Un-
    Exceptional blue
    Draws our gaze up yonder.

    Reply
    • Callie Feyen says

      April 28, 2021 at 5:38 pm

      Love that secret message, Megan! 🙂

      Reply
    • Tania Runyan says

      April 30, 2021 at 11:51 am

      I love this acrostic, Megan. Powerful.

      Reply
  2. Bethany R. says

    April 26, 2021 at 3:21 pm

    That is a fun way to view acrostics. And I smiled at the idea of trying to understand what the guy is saying in code, in the margins. What fun.

    Reply
  3. Crystal Rowe says

    April 27, 2021 at 8:44 am

    This is so fun. I have always loved acrostics, as cute as they may be, and it was fun to try to be a little risky in creating a secret code of my own. I now have many words written vertically all over my journal to fill out in the days to come, but here’s one I made work (I think).

    Question – how do you do punctuation and capitals in an acrostic like this? Does it matter?

    Climbing into my bed with books in their hands, I
    adjust my position to welcome my daughters in;
    radiant light streams through the windows and
    I hear footsteps on the stairs.
    Never selfish, he offers us steaming mugs—
    gifts of coffee (for me) and tea (for them); we
    hold them tightly
    as we each fall into a world of our own.
    Not every morning begin this way; many
    days we awake and do our own things; today I am grateful to
    sit together in silence, with books and steaming mugs in our hands.

    Reply
    • Callie Feyen says

      April 28, 2021 at 5:39 pm

      This is such a delightful and cozy scene!. Great work, Crystal.
      As for punctuation, I don’t know for sure, but it looks like you did it correctly. I tend to think like a sentence, and if it’s in the middle of a line, so be it. 🙂

      Reply
    • L.L. Barkat says

      April 29, 2021 at 7:36 am

      Crystal, I love the welcoming in of your daughters. The books. The steaming mugs.

      How you handle capitalization is all up to you in the acrostic. If you are hoping someone might notice, you can capitalize the beginning of each line. If you are really hoping someone will notice, you can hint at it in the poem title. Or, you can keep it as your poem’s little secret, which can be so personally satisfying! 🙂

      Reply
    • Tania Runyan says

      April 30, 2021 at 11:54 am

      Lovely, Crystal, and I agree with Callie and L.L.’s advice about punctuation and capitalization. There are many options and several “levels” of secrecy you can play with!

      Reply
  4. Kim Knowle-Zeller says

    April 27, 2021 at 1:53 pm

    I just love acrostics and so appreciate this understanding of them, so much richness. I can’t count how many acrostics I’ve written with my name. But here’s one to share:

    Perhaps, she thought, I should go for a walk
    into the woods, or the fields, or along the riverbank
    lacking for nothing
    grounded by the earth
    remembering what it is to breathe deeply
    imagining others who walked the same path
    making a way where there once was none
    a single step, one after another
    grace upon grace
    eventually arriving home again, but with new eyes to see.

    Reply
    • Crystal Rowe says

      April 27, 2021 at 6:38 pm

      Kim, I love this so very much. You have taken me on a pilgrimage indeed my friend.

      Reply
    • Callie Feyen says

      April 28, 2021 at 5:40 pm

      Ahhh, it starts with a nudge, a question. I like it, Kim

      Reply
    • Tania Runyan says

      April 30, 2021 at 11:55 am

      Kim, the acrostic works beautifully with the subject: “new eyes to see”!

      Reply
  5. Sandra Heska King says

    April 28, 2021 at 12:30 pm

    Here’s a found one with lines I culled from a poetry collection, Beggar in the Everglades by Diana Woodcock. I’m not sure if it’d be considered a cut-up or freeform.

    On a Saturday

    At peace in the midst of this wildness, free now,
    listening with ears and heart. Hope’s voice rings
    louder here than that of despair’s. Let the light
    illuminate life. Walk gently on their holy
    ground, attentive to the margins. Take chances.
    Alligators can be quite companionable,
    though a bit shy and elusive at times.

    One must stay alert, oblivious to self, surrounded by the grassy
    river, wind swaying blade-sharp sedges, present to and kin to all of nature
    sense of wonder reawakened. Stay as the hesitant moon rises over the slough.

    Reply
    • Katie Brewster says

      April 28, 2021 at 12:42 pm

      Sandy,
      From those last three lines:
      “grassy river”
      “blade-sharp sedges”
      “hesitant moon”
      So descriptively lovely:)
      Just learned on Jeopardy last night that The Everglades is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

      Reply
    • Callie Feyen says

      April 28, 2021 at 5:41 pm

      Matches the picture! 😉

      I like, “a bit shy and elusive at times.” Indeed. 🙂

      Reply
    • Tania Runyan says

      April 30, 2021 at 11:58 am

      A found acrostic poem! I love the combo!

      Reply

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