I can’t remember when I first learned about pantoum poems - possibly from my Creative Writing teacher1 in high school - but, as one who has some artistic inclinations yet also craves organization & structure, it became a favorite form. Learn more about its history and formal details here if you’d like; I’m going to give a brief overview of the basics I taught and use for myself. Essentially, you’ll end up with a 16-line poem composed of 8 repeating lines; it will have a sort of chanting vibe that can be either meditative or creepy, depending on the topic and which lines you choose.
The simplest way to create a pantoum is to spend a few minutes writing to a prompt or theme - I’ve had students detail how they got to school or free write about a recurring dream. Tip: It’s best to write on every other line so you have room to isolate lines and number them. Try not to think too hard about crafting, just let yourself go stream-of-conscious while following the thread - this morning I chose the idea of rituals, as I stood stirring sugar into my tea and allowed myself to breathe in its aroma for a few quiet minutes.2
Once you’ve written a couple of pages/about 5 minutes, go through and isolate words and phrases you especially like. The end goal is to have only eight total lines, though you can mix & match pieces as you wish [it is your work, after all, and rules only matter if you’re entering a contest], meaning break apart phrases to use as one. Number the lines 1-8. Another tip: I write the prompt in pen then use a pencil to choose my lines, because I will inevitably pick at least a dozen that I like and have to narrow down so being able to erase or modify your selections without removing the original writing is important.
After you’ve decided on the lines you want to use, write them in this order:
Do feel free to modify lines when repeating - sometimes you have a particularly smart turn of phrase that you want to include but it feels a little long or maybe loses its impact on second reading. The custom centuries ago was to read pantoums aloud, and changing up the lines just a bit brings a sort of awakening to the repetitive chant quality.
Here is my impromptu offering for this late Friday thing.
Every morning I awaken and slowly stretch I put on slippers and my ragged sweater to pad downstairs I stir sugar in my tea, watch the crystals swirl into sweet nothingness The cats curve around my calves Put on slippers, pad downstairs I make my way to the old school desk on the porch The cats keep curving Chimes serenade me in the wind At the old desk I don't know what makes the morning full or absent of birdsong Chimes serenade When my tea gets cold, I go back inside What makes the morning full or absent Stir sugar, watch the crystals, sweet nothingness I go back inside Every morning, I awaken
Other pantoums of varying structures to enjoy are here and here and here.
And now, create your own, please.
I truly adored her encouraging smile, wild hair & Bohemian style and was thrilled to eventually become Facebook friends, though I’m still devastated that she chose none of my poems for our class publication 39 years ago.
#Disclosure: This image sounds far, far more Real Simple white lady lovely than it actually was, with bedheaded & sweaty morning-breathed me half-awake in the dark kitchen.
Thanks for these steps into a pantoum- this form is so cool, I think— and I will play with one this weekend - loved what you did with yours
I am on day five of no routine and the things I thought would be easy are not. I have yet to find a spot to perch and let my mind wander. My fantasy of morning pages on the porch with the dogs dissolved in the rain and fog. I'm sitting at my desk in pajamas... again. Thank you for the pantoum. I enjoyed your poem and lesson and will return to the exercise when my brain is working again.