I may have always been a poet.
Filling journals with thoughts, writing long letters to friends and family. I’ve scratched poems beneath my paintings, written them across my bedroom walls, even on the palm of my hand. Poetry is expression. It’s how I mark the world—leaving pieces of myself in ink, in paint, in moments that hold.
For me, poetry isn’t about waiting for inspiration.
It’s about gathering my experiences and finding the words to tell my truth.
Poetry is a way of seeing. A way of living.
A way of being.
A poet’s tool is language, and over the years, I’ve developed a practice of collecting it—gathering words like seeds, storing them as raw materials, waiting to be shaped into something meaningful.
These aren’t just words. They’re possibilities—quiet invitations to begin.
Words to a poet are like paint pots to a painter—each one holding a hue of experience, waiting to become something new.
And the sound of a word? Just as important as its meaning.
When we talk about how words sound in a poem, we step into the realm of sonic texture—how language feels as it moves through the mouth and into the ear. Just like music, sound shapes the emotional experience. Poets choose words not only for meaning, but for the way they hum, hit, soothe, or strike.
That’s why a poem can feel like a song—its rhythms speak directly to the body, not just the mind.
Soft, breathy sounds—s, f, and h—can create quiet, intimacy, even sorrow. These are the sounds of whispers, wind, and slow exhales.
She sifted silence from the sea foam air.
Here, the repetition of “s” and “f” brings a hush, like the imagery itself is whispering.
In contrast, harsh consonants—k, t, g, d—bring urgency and tension.
The clock cracked midnight, ticking through grief.
Each word lands sharply, reflecting the jagged edge of loss.
Repetition and rhyme also carry weight.
Alliteration, assonance, consonance—these aren’t just decorative. They ground the poem in the body. A repeated sound can mimic footsteps, a heartbeat, even a spell being cast.
We rise, we run, we reach, we rest.
Those steady beats and recurring r sounds create momentum. Movement. Meaning.
Because in poetry, sound is meaning.
The way a word feels in your mouth or echoes in your chest can be as important as what it says.
If you’ve ever felt the urge to write but didn’t know where to start, or if you want a practice that keeps creativity flowing—without waiting for inspiration—I’d love to share what works for me.
The practice I’ll be sharing has helped me grow poems that have been shortlisted in contests and published in books.
And it’s something anyone can do.
💌 Want to make your poems sing?
In the full masterclass post for paid subscribers, I’ll share:
✅ A non-AI, deeply personal method for building poems
✅ A step-by-step writing exercise to turn everyday words into poetry
✅ Ways to find inspiration in ordinary things you have in home
✅ How to build your own non-AI toolbox that will spark creativity
✅ 100 powerful words I return to again and again
✅ How to use everyday materials as poetic sourcebooks
✅ The role of journals—and how I mine mine for inspiration
✅ A note on influence, integrity, and honouring the voices that shaped you
✅ Gentle practices to help you begin, return, and keep collecting
Do you want to take your poetry practice to the next level?
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Like you, I love to write—especially poetry. When I was studying creative writing, I learned to fall in love with the great poets. But it didn’t start that way.
I remember reading The Canterbury Tales—the most difficult, boring and long poem I had ever picked up. I couldn’t get into it. The language felt dense, the structure overwhelming, and I kept wondering why this poem mattered so much.
Then one day something shifted. I stopped trying to simply read it and started listening to it—its rhythm, its form, the way it moved like music. I took the time to learn about each character—the Knight, the Wife of Bath, the Pardoner—their stories, their place in the world of the poem. And suddenly, it was no longer a tedious text—it was alive. It became one of my favorite poems in the world.
That experience taught me something about poetry: sometimes, the key isn’t just in the words—it’s in how we gather them, how we hold them, how we allow them to reveal themselves over time.
Alongside my creative writing studies I’ve been fortunate to learn from some truly inspiring teachers. One of my most influential mentors has been Judyth Hill, a poet whose teachings have profoundly shaped my writing practice.
The Poetry Cupboard (by Judyth Hill)
One of the most influential mentors in my writing life is poet and teacher Judyth Hill. Her approach to poetry—rooted in rhythm, presence, and deep trust in the creative process—transformed the way I write. Judyth taught me that poetry isn’t about chasing the perfect line. It’s about listening. Noticing. Gathering.
Years ago, she introduced me to a concept that changed everything: The Poetry Cupboard.
It’s not a physical place, but a mindset—a way of collecting words, images, sounds, and fragments of memory that might one day become poetry. Instead of waiting for inspiration to strike, I began to gather language from daily life, like ingredients for a meal I would cook later.
A poetry cupboard isn’t something you fill once—it’s something you return to and replenish, over and over again. It’s an attitude as much as a practice. Judyth taught me that poetry isn’t about chasing the perfect line—it’s about listening, noticing, gathering. It’s about trusting that the words will come, and that we already carry more poetry than we think.
Her influence continues to shape my writing, and I’m so grateful to share these teachings with you. If you ever have the chance to take a workshop with her, I can’t recommend her enough.
How to Build a Poetry Cupboard (as taught by Judyth Hill)
For example, try this right now:
Gather a pen and paper. Close your eyes and, one at a time, say out loud the title of each section below. Then open your eyes and write down the very first words that come to mind.
Start with something like: 10 Shades of Green…
Your mind will immediately begin to offer you gifts—words drawn from your memory, your experiences, your life. These aren’t just random associations. They’re personal. They carry meaning.
Write them down without judgment. These words are the raw materials of your poetry—seedlings from the soil of your own story.
10 Shades of Green
Chartreuse, lime, emerald, moss, jade, olive, forest, seafoam, sage, viridian.
10 Goddesses
Athena, Aphrodite, Isis, Kali, Brigid, Freyja, Demeter, Hecate, Amaterasu, Pele.
10 Flavours of Ice Cream
Vanilla bean, dark chocolate, pistachio, salted caramel, strawberry, espresso, honey lavender, coconut, peanut butter swirl, mint chip.
10 Words for Love
Amour, adoration, devotion, tenderness, affection, passion, infatuation, fondness, endearment, longing.
10 Types of Wine
Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, Pinot Noir, Malbec, Syrah, Riesling, Tempranillo, Sangiovese.
10 Shades of Blue
Azure, navy, sky, cobalt, indigo, sapphire, baby blue, teal, denim, cerulean.
10 Words for Wind
Gust, breeze, gale, zephyr, squall, drift, current, draft, whisper, wisp.
10 Textures
Velvet, grit, smooth, coarse, feathered, rippled, slick, fuzzy, brittle, knotted.
10 Forgotten Words
Susurrus, gloaming, betwixt, scriptorium, yonder, peradventure, brume, nigh, eldritch, thither.
10 Childhood Memories
Swing sets, ice cream trucks, sidewalk chalk, dandelion wishes, bedtime stories, first snow, paper dolls, tree forts, scraped knees, secret codes.
Why are these lists so powerful? Because these words have to come from your memory, your own life, your own experiences. After all, poetry is a recollection of what we’ve lived—moments, details, and feelings that have stayed with us over time. That’s where the magic lives. Not in inventing something entirely new, but in paying attention to what’s already there. When a word carries your story, it becomes more than just language—it becomes a doorway.
Each shade of green you recall, each goddess whose name lingers in your mind, each flavour of ice cream you’ve tasted, each word for love that has touched your heart, each sip of wine that has warmed your throat—all of these are drawn from the well of your own existence.
Poetry is not about seeking something outside of yourself; it is about gathering what is already there.
By the way - you have just added 50 words in your poetry cupboard. 50 starting points, images, rhythms, connections waiting to be made. Poetry doesn’t begin on the page—it begins with how we gather the world around us.
Just imagine how full your poetry cupboard will be when you start adding lists of other things in your life such as flowers, colours, types of architecture, animals, types of trees, and more.
In a journal, a notebook, a file on your phone—somewhere just for your gathered words. Make it a habit. Organize it in a way that works for you:
A page for colours
Another for textures
One for names of winds, rivers, trees, goddesses, stars
This isn’t just a list—it’s a living resource. Refer to it when you’re editing a poem, when a word feels flat, when you want something richer, deeper, more precise.
And whenever you hear a beautiful word, an unusual word, a word that catches in your chest—write it down. Add it to your cupboard.
Language is an inheritance. Poetry is knowing how to spend it.
Note: Judyth Hill teaches poetry, I have taken many classes with her over the years. She is a remarkable teacher - I have learned more about wild writing and poetry from her and the circle of fellow poets in her classes than any where else. She also has a publishing company and many people go on to publish poetry books through her.
Check her out. Judyth Hill
Poetry Writing Exercise:
How to use your Poetry Cupboard to write a Poem
This exercise will guide you through using your Poetry Cupboard to generate a poem in a natural, organic way—without staring at a blank page, waiting for inspiration.
Step 1: Choose a List from Your Poetry Cupboard
Flip through your poetry cupboard (your notebook, file, or collection of words). Choose one of your word lists—it could be colours, textures, flowers, weather, emotions, or anything that sparks something for you."10 Shades of Green" from the earlier list: Chartreuse, lime, emerald, moss, jade, olive, forest, sea foam, sage, viridian.
Step 2: Free write for 5 minutes
Using the words from your list, start writing freely for five minutes. Don’t worry about making it a poem yet—just let the words lead you somewhere.
Ask yourself:
What do these words remind me of?
Where have I seen these colors in my life?
What emotions do they bring up?
Can I describe a memory using these words?
For example:
The chartreuse fields of my childhood summers, the viridian hush of the woods at dusk. My grandfather’s jade ring flashing as he shuffled his cards. Seafoam edges curling on the shore, moss growing thick between the cracks of old stones.
Step 3: Circle Words and Phrases that Stand Out
Go through your free writing and circle the words, images, and lines that feel the most vivid. These are the seeds of your poem.
Maybe the phrase "viridian hush of the woods at dusk" stands out. Or "moss growing thick between cracks of old stones."
Step 4: Shape Your Poem’s Opening Line
Choose one of the strongest lines from your free write and use it as your first line. This will anchor your poem.
Example:
"The viridian hush of the woods at dusk carried the weight of something unsaid."
Step 5: Let the Poem Unfold
From here, let the poem emerge by answering these questions:
What happens next?
Who or what is in this moment?
What feeling do I want to leave the reader with?
You don’t need to use all 10 words from your list—just the ones that naturally fit.
Example draft:
The viridian hush of the woods at dusk carried the weight of something unsaid. Moss clung to stone like an old memory, olive-dark and heavy with rain. I pressed my palm to the rough bark of sage-colored trees, whispering names I no longer spoke aloud.
Step 6: Refine and Expand
Read through your draft. Does it flow? Does it evoke an emotion? Play with line breaks, remove unnecessary words, and read it aloud to hear the rhythm. Pin it up on your wall. Record yourself saying it out loud.
Bonus: Try This with Other Lists
Repeat this process using different lists from your Poetry Cupboard. See how different words shape different moods and themes.
Your poetry cupboard is a well of inspiration waiting to be drawn from. With this method, you'll never have to start with a blank page—you'll always have a place to begin.
Poetry is, after all, about digging deep into memory. We use words and images to stir up feelings, recall experiences, and transform them into expressions—into something we can shape, share, and give meaning to. Inspiration doesn’t always come from staring at a blank page. Sometimes, it’s about gathering, about surrounding ourselves with language and imagery that awakens something inside us.
Collect Magazines & Seed Catalogs for Inspiration
Because I write a lot about nature—especially flowers—I’ve found that bulb and seed catalogs often contain some of the most stunning descriptions of plants. Their language is rich, poetic, and full of sensory detail—making them perfect inspiration for writing.
For example, I receive the Spring Breck’s Bulbs catalog every year, and it has become an invaluable resource—not just for my garden, but for my poems. The way Breck’s describes the colors, textures, and movement of flowers often sparks new imagery in my work.
But inspiration isn’t limited to seed catalogs. Magazines, brochures, and other printed materials can provide unexpected sources of poetic language and ideas.
1. Botanical & Gardening Magazines
Magazines like ;Fine Gardening’, ‘The English Garden’, and ‘Garden Design’ are full of beautiful descriptions of plants, flowers, landscapes, and changing seasons. The way these magazines describe natural beauty can help you find new words and metaphors for your own writing.
2. Travel Magazines & Brochures
Publications like ‘National Geographic Traveler’, ‘Condé Nast Traveler’, and even local tourism brochures often contain vivid descriptions of places, cultures, weather, and geography. If you write about landscapes, movement, or distant places, these can be goldmines of poetic imagery.
3. Fashion & Design Magazines
While it may not seem obvious, fashion magazines like ‘Vogue’, ‘Harper’s Bazaar’, and ‘Elle Decor’ use rich, textural language to describe fabric, colour, movement, and emotion. This can be especially useful if you want to incorporate sensory details into your poetry.
4. Science & Nature Publications
Magazines like ‘National Geographic’, ‘Scientific American’, and ‘Nature’ often describe the natural world in precise yet poetic ways. If you write about the environment, animals, weather, or the cosmos, these magazines can introduce new terminology and striking imagery.
5. Food & Culinary Magazines
If you love writing about flavours, textures, and sensory experiences, food magazines like ‘Bon Appétit’, ‘Saveur’, and ‘Cooks Illustrated’ contain descriptions of ingredients and dishes that can inspire metaphors, emotions, and personal memories.
6. Poetry & Literary Magazines
Reading poetry magazines like ‘Poetry Magazine’, ‘The Paris Review’, and ‘The Kenyon Review’ can introduce you to new poetic forms, structures, and ways of seeing the world.The best way to become a better poet is to read poetry, and literary journals often feature some of the most innovative voices.
7. Historical & Cultural Publications
Magazines like ‘Smithsonian’, ‘Archaeology Magazine’, and ‘History Today’ can be great sources for ‘historical narratives, forgotten words, and intriguing details’ that may find their way into your poems.
How to Use Publications in Your Poetry Cupboard
Cut out phrases or descriptions that resonate with you and keep them in a journal.
Highlight evocative words and write them into your Poetry Cupboard lists.
Use articles or images as prompts for new poems.
Find unexpected metaphors by combining descriptions from different sources (e.g., using a colour from a fashion magazine to describe a forest).
By keeping a collection of well-written, image-rich materials at your fingertips, you ensure that your poetry cupboard is always stocked with inspiration. Poetry is about gathering—and magazines, catalogs, and journals are wonderful places to gather from.
100 Powerful Words That I Use That Shape My Poetry
Here are 100 words that I find myself returning to in my poetry, based on my themes of nature, memory, grief, love, and transformation:
Nature & Landscape
Moss, river, tide, wind, hollow, fern, dusk, cedar, ash, birch, thicket, stone, drift, meadow, tide pool, shadow, fog, rust, soil, wild
Memory & Time
Echo, thread, linger, fading, uprooted, relic, shatter, trace, vanish, remnant, tether, fractured, hush, crumble, stillness, haunt, reverie, worn, passage, unravel
Grief & Longing
Ache, weight, hollowed, absence, whisper, wound, lament, silence, driftwood, fragile, murmur, vacancy, echoing, erased, fissure, undone, phantom, wither, ruin, veil
Love & Connection
Embrace, threadbare, warmth, honey, belong, soft, light, ember, bloom, cradle, reach, quiet, home, nest, pulse, clasp, rooted, solace, hold, glow
Movement & Transformation
Flutter, scatter, rise, fold, unfold, breach, drown, bloom, spill, flicker, shift, carry, wane, mend, reclaim, awaken, return, breathe, wander, become.
When I find myself over-using these words I pull out my thesaurus and find a sister word. A thesaurus is a poets best friend.
What Remains
Moss clings to stone,
a quiet ache in the hollow dusk.
Wind unravels the hush of cedar,
soft whispers carried in the tide.
I trace the worn thread of memory,
each echo a tether to what lingers.
The river does not return,
but I listen—still—
to the weight of his absence.
Shadow and ember,
cradle and ruin,
I gather what remains—
fold it into warmth,
let it bloom in the quiet.
M.B.
Use Your Journals
I also have shelves full of journals—years of handwritten pages filled with personal experiences, observations, and moments that shaped me. Once a year, I go back through them. I revisit the life I’ve lived, reading with a poet’s eye. I make little check marks in the margins: Oh, that could be a poem, or this might be the start of a short story.
These journals aren’t just records—they’re a well of inspiration. Because when we write the truth—our truth, drawn from our own lived experience—it’s full of texture, detail, and emotional weight. That’s what makes writing rich. That’s what the world wants to read.
Language is Shared
There’s a fine line between copying someone’s work and making it your own. But here’s the thing—people don’t own words. Language is communal. It’s passed between us like seeds, shaped by time, place, and voice.
Take the phrase “murmuring pines.” Those two simple words existed long before they were put together in print. But when Henry Wadsworth Longfellow opened his 1847 poem Evangeline with:
“This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks…”
—he transformed those words into something unforgettable. He didn’t invent them. But the rhythm, the sound, the imagery—they belonged to him in the way he used them. And now, when we hear murmuring pines, we think of that line. Of that feeling. Of that forest.
That’s what poetry does. It takes the language we all share and makes it personal.
So when we gather words—whether from a catalog, a conversation, or the pages of an old book—we’re not stealing. We’re listening. We’re shaping. We’re letting language pass through our own lived experience, where it becomes something new.
Poetry isn’t about being original for the sake of it.
It’s about being true.
✨ A Note on Plagiarism in Poetry
Poetry is rooted in influence and shared language—but there’s a line between inspiration and imitation. Plagiarism happens when you use someone else’s original words, phrases, or structure without credit, and present them as your own.
It’s okay to be inspired by another poet’s voice or theme. It’s even okay to borrow a word or two—we all do. There is even a type of poem you can write called a borrowed poem where you borrow lines from other poems you love. The thing is - you need to give credit where credit is due. But if a phrase feels unique or coined, or if you’re echoing another poem closely, credit the original poet.
A simple “after [poet’s name]” honors the lineage and keeps your integrity intact.
Remember: language is shared. But your voice is what makes it poetry.
So Keep Collecting
Poetry isn’t about waiting—it’s about gathering. It’s about noticing, collecting, and shaping the world around you into something meaningful. Whether it’s through the words you have scribbled in your journals, moments tucked away for later, or phrases found in unexpected places, the act of gathering is what keeps creativity alive.
When you surround yourself with language, imagery, and rhythm, poetry begins to flow naturally. It becomes less about searching for inspiration and more about opening yourself to what’s already there.
So, keep collecting. Keep storing away words that move you. Keep listening to the world, and let poetry find its way to the page.
Poetry begins in the gathering.
Keep listening. Keep collecting.
Let what’s inside you rise to the page.