Poetry is Not Dead

Poetry is not dead.

So if poetry is not dead, then why is it dismissed even by the book nerds who you would expect to be among those who can appreciate poetry the most? People in the book business—publishers, bookstore owners, librarians—often say folks don’t read poetry because, frankly, the numbers back them up.

Poetry books sell a fraction of what novels or self-help titles do. It’s not even close—think thousands versus millions. The market’s been leaning hard into prose for decades, especially genre fiction like thrillers or romance, which fly off shelves. Poetry, meanwhile, feels like a niche, a whisper in a world shouting for blockbusters.

Part of it’s practical. Poetry doesn’t always fit the modern grind—people want escapism or answers, something they can sink into on a commute or digest in bite-sized chunks. Poetry asks for more: slow attention, and a willingness to sit with ambiguity. It’s not a quick fix or a page-turner. Bookstores notice this when they stock shelves—poetry sections are tiny if they exist at all because they don’t move fast enough to justify the space.

It also goes back to that perception problem. A lot of people think poetry’s stuck in some dusty past—Shakespearean sonnets or cryptic verses they were forced to decode in school. It’s seen as elitist or inaccessible, even though plenty of modern stuff isn’t. Librarians might see it too: poetry collections gather dust while the latest bestseller has a waitlist and the industry’s self-fulfilling prophecy kicks in—less promotion, less visibility, less readership.

That said, it’s not the full story. Poetry’s alive online, in slams, on Instagram—places where the business isn’t always looking. But for those in the traditional book trade, the data and daily reality scream one thing: poetry’s a tough sell. They’re not wrong about the trend; they just might be missing where the pulse still beats.

But, poetry’s not dead—it’s just shifted shapes. The old idea of it, maybe—dusty volumes on library shelves or recited in stiff collars—might feel like it’s fading, but poetry itself is kicking. It’s on Instagram, TikTok, in spoken word slams, and even woven into song lyrics that millions stream daily. Look at someone like Rupi Kaur—she’s sold millions of copies of her collections, hitting nerves with raw, bite-sized lines. That’s poetry, just not the kind Keats would’ve recognized.

I have tried to embrace contemporary poetry. Yet have struggled with the lack of challenge in the writing. I have grown in thought and realize now that I have drawn a conclusion only on my own understanding. I write contemporary poetry, unrhymed, and in fact several of my favorite poems are unrhymed. Love Me Like the Deep, for example. However, I much prefer the challenge of constraints. I have even dabbled in my own themes of the short-line art. A Haiku for you, Lantern, and Tanka too. Yet I am always drawn back to the longer verse in various challenging formats.

The traditional gatekeepers—publishers, critics—might say it’s dying because it doesn’t dominate bookstore sales or literary journals like it once did. Fair point: it’s not raking in prose-level cash or filling bestseller lists. But that’s not death; it’s evolution. Poetry’s gone guerrilla, popping up where people actually hang out—online, in cafes, at open mics. It’s less about leather-bound prestige and more about gut-punch immediacy. I prefer gut-wrenching intimacy, but that may be just me.

Think about it: people still turn to poetry when life goes sour—personal heartbreak, global chaos. They scribble it in notebooks, share it in DMs, or yell it on stage. Post-2020 is a collection of such poetry, writ during global crises and political upheaval. Poetry is alive because it’s too stubborn to die; it just doesn’t care about playing by the old rules. So, no, poetry’s not dead—it’s just out there doing its thing, quieter in some corners, louder in others.

Poetry is not dead.

Far from it! Poetry is very much alive and evolving, even if it sometimes feels like it’s flying under the radar. While it’s true that poetry may not always be in the mainstream spotlight, it continues to thrive in various forms and communities.

Here are a few ways poetry is very much alive:

Digital Platforms: Social media platforms like Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok have become spaces where poets share their work and connect with audiences. Hashtags like #poetrycommunity and #poetsofinstagram are popular for discovering new poets.

Poetry Slams and Spoken Word: Performance poetry, such as slam poetry and spoken word, has gained a lot of popularity. These events draw in crowds and create vibrant communities around the art of poetry.

Publishing Opportunities: While traditional poetry collections might not always dominate the bestseller lists, many small presses and online journals are dedicated to publishing and promoting poetry.

Educational Programs: Poetry is still an important part of educational curriculum, and many schools and universities offer programs, workshops, and clubs dedicated to writing and analyzing poetry. Teach poetry workshops, courses, or creative writing classes at schools, universities, or community centers. Online platforms also offer opportunities for virtual teaching.

National and International Recognition: Prestigious awards like the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry and the Nobel Prize in Literature often highlight poets and their work, bringing attention to the art form.

Cross-disciplinary Collaborations: Poets are collaborating with artists from other disciplines, such as musicians, visual artists, and filmmakers, to create multi-dimensional works of art.

In short, poetry continues to adapt and find new audiences. Do you have a favorite poet or a particular poem that resonates with you?

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From the blog

About the Author: Sarah B. Royal

Sarah B. Royal’s writing defies convention. Her poetry and prose traverse the boundaries between structure and spontaneity, often weaving together philosophical inquiry, cultural reflection, and personal narrative. With a background in experimental literature, she is known for crafting works that challenge readers to engage intellectually and emotionally.

Her acclaimed palindrome performance play, 777 – A Story of Idol Worship and Murder, showcases her fascination with mirrored storytelling and thematic symmetry. In o x ∞ = ♥: The Poet and The Mathematician, Royal explores the intersection of poetic intuition and mathematical logic, revealing a unique voice that is both analytical and lyrical.

Royal’s collections—such as Lost in the Lost and Found, Haiku For You, Lantern and Tanka Too, and the WoPoLi Chapbook Series—highlight her commitment to neurodivergent expression and poetic experimentation. Whether through childhood verse or contemporary fusion poetry, her work invites readers into a world where language is both a tool and a playground.

Sarah B. Royal continues to expand the possibilities of poetic form, offering readers a deeply personal yet universally resonant experience. Her writing is a testament to the power of creative risk, intellectual depth, and emotional authenticity.

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