One Poem, Several Posts

You’ve written a poem. You’ve revised it, probably more times than you’d care to admit. You’ve submitted it, waited for a response, and, if all went well, received the wonderful news that someone wants to publish it. You announce the publication on social media. Your friends congratulate you. Your mother shares the link. Someone you haven’t spoken to since high school gives it a thumbs-up. And then? Well, you write another poem, of course. And the first one disappears into the enormous pile of things people posted on the internet yesterday.

It doesn’t have to. In the first installment of this series, I talked about finding ways to extend the life of a published poem. In Part 2, I suggested recording yourself reading it aloud, an activity I personally rank somewhere between public speaking and wrestling an octopus. This time, let’s talk about something considerably less frightening: getting several social media posts out of one poem.

Several posts? About the same poem? Won’t people get sick of me? Possibly. If you post the same announcement six times in a row, you may test the patience of even your most devoted friends. But that’s not what I’m suggesting. A poem is more than a link to a literary magazine. It has a history, a subject, a voice, and, if you’re lucky, a line or two that might make someone stop scrolling for a moment. Each of those offers a different way to introduce readers to your work.

Start with the publication announcement.

This is the obvious one, and it’s worth doing properly. Name the magazine or journal, thank the editors, and give people a link to the poem. If the publication has a social media account, tag it. You don’t need to be excessively modest about this. Getting a poem published is an accomplishment, and you’re allowed to be pleased.

Share a line you particularly love.

A few days or a week later, choose a line or two from the poem and make that the focus of a new post. Maybe it’s the line that started the whole thing. Maybe it’s the one you fought with for three weeks before finally getting it right. Or maybe it’s simply a line you’re especially fond of. You could put the words over a photograph, use a simple background, or just type them into a post. Add a sentence about why you chose them, and link to the complete poem. One caution: Check your publication agreement before reproducing excerpts, particularly if the journal has exclusive rights for a period. Linking to the published poem is generally the safest approach.

Tell us where the poem came from.

I love hearing what inspires other writers, partly because the answers can be so wonderfully peculiar. A poem about grief might have started with a broken teacup. A poem about childhood might have begun with the smell of somebody’s basement. A poem about a bird might have absolutely nothing to do with birds. You don’t have to explain what the poem means. Readers should have room to bring their own experiences to your work. But you can tell us what prompted you to write it. Something like, “I wrote this after finding a grocery list in my grandmother’s handwriting. I hadn’t seen her handwriting in twenty years.” That’s a story. It gives readers another reason to be curious about the poem.

Let readers hear it.

If you followed the advice in Part 2 and recorded yourself reading the poem, you’ve already got another post waiting. You can share the video or audio recording with a short introduction. You might even mention something about how the poem sounds different when spoken aloud. And if you haven’t recorded it yet, there’s still time. The octopus can wait.

Ask a question.

Not every post needs to announce something. Suppose your poem concerns a childhood home. You might ask readers whether there’s a place from their childhood they still dream about. If it’s about an object you’ve kept for years, you could ask what ordinary thing they would never throw away. The question should grow naturally out of the poem, rather than feeling like a desperate attempt to generate engagement. You might get a conversation going. You might get three responses, one of which is from your cousin. Either way, you’ve given readers a way to connect with the subject of your work.

And don’t do all of this in one week.

This is important. I’m not suggesting that you turn every poem into a five-day publicity campaign. Space these posts out. Use the ideas that suit the poem and skip the ones that don’t. One poem might lend itself beautifully to a story about its inspiration. Another might have a striking line that’s perfect for sharing. A third might be best experienced aloud. You don’t have to use every suggestion, and you certainly don’t have to post on every platform. If you enjoy Instagram, use Instagram. If you prefer Facebook, use Facebook. If you have a newsletter, that’s another place to share the work.

The point is to give a poem more than one opportunity to find its readers. And remember that not everyone who follows you will see every post. Social media moves quickly, and even people who genuinely want to read your work may miss the original announcement. Sharing something again, in a new and interesting way, isn’t necessarily repeating yourself. It’s giving someone another chance to discover a poem they might love.

Next time: We’ll look at how a poem that’s already been published can find a second life through reprints, anthologies, contests, and other opportunities. Because publication doesn’t have to be the end of a poem’s journey.

And speaking of opportunities: There’s still time to submit to Instant Noodles! Our final issue of 2026 has an open theme, Author’s/Artist’s Choice, and we’re accepting poetry, flash fiction, flash nonfiction, visual art, and multimedia through November 7, 2026. Submissions are free, and the issue will be published December 1.

Read the submission guidelines and send us your work!

Read It Out Loud

A lot of poets would rather wrestle an octopus than read one of their poems aloud. I am particularly creeped out by octopi, and I would take the octopus over the live event. When I was a young writer, twenties and thirties, I could not wait to perform my work. I always got good responses, as well, to my live readings, so I was so excited to do them. Now, though, standing in front of a room feels strangely vulnerable. I get so nervous I find myself choked up. As a young writer I had a lot of very kind teachers who were delightfully excited about my writing. When I look back at that “young” writing, I don’t think it was very good, so I wonder at that. But their support was marvelous. These days there’s no teacher to be wowed before I go out and attempt to wow the crowd, so I do feel especially …. clumsy, for lack of a better word.

Here’s the thing, though: audiences don’t expect perfection. They aren’t looking for a Broadway actor or a professional voice-over artist. They just want to hear the person who wrote the poem, read the poem. We have a few people every issue of Instant Noodles who record themselves reading their poems, and those always get more hits than the non-readers. Reading your own work gives people something the printed page can’t. They hear where you pause, which words you linger over, and where you smile without realizing it. Even a quiet, slightly nervous reading can help a listener connect with your poem in a new way.

You don’t have to book a poetry reading to do this. Prop your phone against a coffee mug, press record, and read your poem. Actually, if you want to look your best, prop your phone on something eye-level or higher, pointing down. Practice positioning until you feel confident you look okay. I often record myself on Zoom so I have more control over my look. Just open a Zoom account and hop into the “Personal Room” and hit RECORD. If you stumble over a line, pause and start over, in you’re on Zoom, or, if you’re on your phone, stop that recording and start another. Then read it again. Nobody has to know it took three tries. (I won’t tell if you won’t. Sometimes, when I record things, I need a calculator to count the tries!) If video isn’t your thing, record the audio instead. Share it in your newsletter, post it on social media, or add it to your website. You’d be surprised how many people enjoy hearing a poem in the poet’s own voice. It adds a warmth and familiarity the printed work doesn’t give. And, when I’ve listened to some of my favorite poets, I’ve been surprised by one or two who came across as decidedly… different from what I had expected. That added a new depth to the writing that really intrigued me. I would love to hear more of our Instant Noodles authors reader their work.

Next time, I’ll look at how one poem can become several meaningful posts without feeling like you’re repeating yourself.