What do we look for, as readers, in a poem’s first line? There are many answers to that question. I’ve picked out a few of my favourite first lines from poems in Magma 42
‘Exit my bedroom through cavity walls and fuse box’ (I Decide To Go To You As The Crow Flies by Sally Clark)
‘…I see you on a red carpet, a fresh rose between’ (Sometimes When You Are Bent Over Chopping Leeks by Liz Gallagher)
‘Mother loves Chicken best’ (Hen-House by Sarah Jackson)
‘Where two men heard a boy with a limp had been seen, smelling’ (Retreat by Meghan Purvis)
‘The first man to worship my feet’ (Thirsty-two Fouettés by Emily Berry)
‘Assuming humans work like machines’ (Machines by Carl Griffin)
‘Hunger sends us seeking its cheap white thickness’ (Toast by Rebecca Goss)
In a poem’s first line, we may want a strong, distinct tone, an imaginative description that seems to transform a landscape as we read it, an emotional connection, a unique use of language, the surprise of the unfamiliar…
I also think that a bad first line can kill a poem. If it gives away too much from the outset, or is bland and prose-like, or if it feels as if it’s been used in a thousand poems before.
Any favourite first lines? You can say why, although that’s optional.
What a thought-provoking post! My first thought was that it was a bit like the proverbial piece of string…but when I actually tried to sit down and isolate stunning first lines and consider them away from the rest of their poems, there was less choice that I’d expected.
It was also harder to pin down a general and precise definition of what makes a good first line for me. The closest I can get personally is a mixture of how it sounds, what questions/expectations it creates in my mind, does it make me go ‘wow’?…(probably a similar mixture to what makes a good whole poem for me too!)
It being hard to completely isolate the first line from the rest of the poem, the promise of the first line also needs to be carried through (not disappointed) in the rest of the poem or it leaves a bad aftertaste, no matter how good it first seemed.
And, like so many things, I suspect favourite my first lines may also vary with my moods and particular phases of my life.
So, four selections from some of the collections/anthologies I’m currently reading:
“Bare hands is the answer, it came to me” (The Ice Statues by David Constantine) The answer to what? Why does it matter?
“Under that dress which is as soft as a moth” (Woman on a Swing by David Constantine) Fantastic sounds. Sensual. What about under that dress…? What are we going to be told next?
“This is the house without memory” (The House Without Memory by Mike Barlow) The similarity of title and first line while necessary for the structure (which echoes the house that Jack built…) does lessen the impact of the first line a little for me. But it still does immediately makes me want to know what’s going on. Of course, houses aren’t living and therefore can’t actually remember things but we are so used to thinking of houses as being full of memories for the people who’ve lived there and if only they could tell them, that I want to know why this house has no memory, what is it a symbol for… ?
“After bad news, and its pulled-back fist,” (Loudness by Judy Brown) This immediately makes me want to read on both because of the forceful and stunningly accurate description of what bad news feels like and because I’m curious to find out about the bad news this is after. (In fact though, this poem isn’t about any particular piece of bad news but a stunningly descriptive poem about the general effects of shock.)
Good first lines. Hmmm…
We have a fine line between what someone considers striking and what someone considers daft.
And then there’s the issue of how much of a first line the title is… Can a poem start before it’s started?
Here are some that I like (but no-one else might):
“Sing Thorfinn’s drowning.”
- Thorfinn, George Mackay Brown
“The stars are sliding wanton through the trees”
- Stars Sliding, Ivor Gurney
“You would take the whole world into your mouth”
- Child, Julia Copus
“He retains a slight ‘Martian’ accent, from the years of single phrases.”
- It Allows a Portrait in Line-Scan at Fifteen, Les Murray
“If you could eat frost, you might think”
- And You Know What Thought Did, Simon Armitage
“Iago Prytherch his name, though, be it allowed”
- A Peasant, RS Thomas
“One day, feeling hungry, I swallowed the moon.”
- One Day Feeling Hungry, Gwyneth Lewis
Just a few… there are hundreds, thousands more I like.
(And of course, half the time it’s what the line says and half how it sounds that make them “good” to me.)
[...] What do editors look for in the first line of a poem? [...]
I’d definitely go for all those. I’ve actually just been listening to Gwynneth Lewis read that very poem on the Bloodaxe In Person 30 Poets DVD and that first line does particularly stand out.
It’s also really interesting when it’s someone else’s list to gauge one’s reaction to just the first line without prior knowledge of the poet and before reading the poem title and poet’s name. There’s a couple of first lines there I’m not acquainted with that have really whetted the appetite! (Thank you!)
What about this for an attention grabber
“Perched upon my City Office stool I watched with envy”
Have tried for years to find this one only parts of which I can now recall – still it was 55 years ago I first came across it. Would be so happy to find it again …please..