How to write manifestation poems

like you mean it

I just wrote a chapbook of astro love poems—are we surprised I’m into manifestation? But don’t worry, I’m not here to convince you manifestation will make you hot, rich, and famous. I couldn’t sell that even if I wanted, and I don’t want to. I do, however, think poems are spells and spells are powerful, and in that sense, every poem is a manifestation poem.

Meaning, this could also be titled “How to write poems like you mean it.” Let’s start there.

I used to write flash fiction primarily, and I’ve been thinking lately about the difference between poetry and fiction, really between poetry and everything else. My crude conclusion (crude because it’s Wednesday morning before 8 hours of meetings)(and conclusion because I’m feeling audacious) is that poetry does not f*ck around. It gets straight into the meaning of meaning. A poem about walking through your house holding white towels isn’t about white towels. It’s not even about solitude; it’s about solitudeness, the raw emotional statehood of solitude.

So, to write any sort of poem, whether it be inspired by personal experience or not, I sit in the emotion of it like a mud bath. When writing “Venus in Scorpio: Or Why I Love You Like a Burning” I started with a list of objects I associated with Scorpios: candles, witchy swamps, handcuffs, revenge. When writing TV poems, I of course, watch particular scenes over and over, and I’ll also write from the perspective of different characters even if those lines don’t make the final poem.

Basically, get in The Mood and stay there.

The day before my 34th birthday (eek), I got to write with

Annalise Parady

and a few other new Pisces friends in a Pisces workshop where we reflected on the birthdays behind and the birthdays ahead. One of the prompts was to choose a word for the year ahead and write to that word.

I chose roses.

This poem is sassy because I want sassy in the year ahead, while this poem, “Honest Work,” which I also wrote with the intention of manifesting, is peaceful because I want peace and integrity in the work I do.

What’s the metaphorical mud bath of boldness? What does it feel like, sound like, look like? Answering those questions, I arrived at couplets, short lines, saucy line breaks, a dress with pockets.

And what’s the metaphorical mud bath of honest work? What does it feel like, sound like, look like? The perfect solitude of early morning. A bird building a nest.

Once you’ve got your materials, soak.

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