How to Read Poetry
Some of us find poetry difficult to interpret because of our approach to reading it. Rather than ask, What is this poem saying to me? we ask, What has the poet said? Although the latter question is legitimate, it can also become a stumbling block when we assume that understanding a poem requires us to discover precisely what was going on in the poet’s mind when it was written. After all, it is impossible to read another person’s mind. Indeed, even poets do not always fully understand the implications of what they write.
A poet may begin a poem with a particular idea, emotion, experience, or message in mind, only to discover, in the course of writing, that the poem is leading somewhere else. The finished work may reveal meanings, connections, and possibilities that were not part of the poet’s original intention. This is because writing is not always a process of simply transferring fully formed thoughts onto paper; sometimes, it is a process of discovery.
This is why I believe that, when reading a poem, we should pay less attention to what we imagine the poet intended to say and more attention to what the poem itself communicates. Instead of asking only, What has the poet said? we should also ask, What is the poem saying? What does it evoke in me? What meanings can I discover in its images, symbols, metaphors, language, structure, and silences?
This approach does not require us to disregard the poet’s intentions entirely. Knowledge of a poet’s background, circumstances, or stated intentions can enrich our understanding of a poem. However, such knowledge should not become a cage that confines the poem to a single interpretation. The poem is a work of art in its own right, and its meaning need not be exhausted by the circumstances of its creation or the explanation its author offers.
Of course, our ability to interpret a poem is influenced by our knowledge, experience, cultural background, and familiarity with the subject matter. A poem that appears obscure to one reader may be immediately accessible to another whose experiences provide a point of entry. Similarly, a scholar of literature may recognise allusions, literary devices, historical references, or symbolic patterns that another reader might overlook. Someone who has experienced the circumstances depicted in a poem may also recognise emotional nuances that would otherwise remain elusive.
These differences explain, in part, why a single poem can mean different things to different readers. Each reader approaches the work with a particular store of knowledge, memories, emotions, and expectations. Consequently, readers may discover different layers of meaning in the same poem without necessarily contradicting one another.
However, this does not mean that every interpretation is automatically valid simply because someone has offered it. A plausible interpretation must be supported by the poem itself. It should be logically reasoned, consistent with the language and imagery, and defensible through evidence from the text. Personal experience may provide an entry point into a poem, but the text must provide the basis for the interpretation. Where an interpretation ignores or contradicts significant textual evidence, it becomes difficult to justify, however sincere the reader may be.
We must also recognise that poetry does not always communicate through straightforward statements. It can suggest rather than declare, evoke rather than explain, and reveal through ambiguity what direct language might fail to capture. Sometimes, a poem’s power lies precisely in its ability to sustain multiple meanings. A reader who insists on reducing every poem to a single, easily stated message may miss much of what makes poetry distinctive.
Ultimately, the difficulty we encounter in interpreting a poem may not always lie in the poem itself; it may lie in our expectations of what a poem should do and the approach we bring to reading it. If we approach every poem as a riddle with one hidden answer known only to its author, we risk turning the reading experience into an exercise in guessing the poet’s thoughts rather than appreciating the poem.
Therefore, to understand a poem, we must read the poem, not the poet’s mind.
Sumaila Isah Umaisha has worked as a Literary Editor since 1994 with several media organisations, including Hotline magazine, New Nigerian Newspapers, and Blueprint Newspapers, and later served as Editor at Nigerian Newsday Newspaper from 2013 to 2020. His work in literary journalism has earned him multiple awards, notably the Literary Journalist Prize of the Association of Nigerian Authors (ANA), which he won twice; in 2004 and 2007.
His short stories, poems, essays, and interviews have appeared in numerous national and international journals, magazines, and anthologies, including Drumvoices Revue (USA) and The London Magazine. His first book, Hoodlums (2010), a collection of short stories, is a recommended text in several Nigerian universities. His novel Glasshouse (2022) was longlisted for the James Currey Prize for African Literature and shortlisted for the ANA Prose Prize in the same year. His recent works include the play Iburama (2023) and the novel Lost in the Wild (2024).
He is the founder and coordinator of Authors’ Hub, a global writers’ collective dedicated to nurturing young writers and advancing literary development.