Are the Gatekeepers Killing Poetic Creativity?

 

Are the Gatekeepers Killing Poetic Creativity?

By Kieran Beville

Let’s be real: if you haven’t snagged one of the big-name poetry prizes, you’re basically invisible. The poetry world, like the music industry, runs on hype, clout, and those shiny accolades that separate the “serious” artists from the rest of the crowd. Pulitzer, National Book Award, Forward Prize—these are the Grammy Awards of poetry. Without that kind of street cred, you might as well be playing your verses in a vacuum.

The Price of Entry? A Steep Fee

But here’s the kicker: entering these contests isn’t free. Far from it – like buying a ticket to a music festival, there’s a cost to even get your foot in the door. It’s a classic pay-to-play scheme, and it’s messing with the diversity of voices we hear. If you’re not flush with cash, your chances of getting heard—or winning—take a serious hit. It’s like the poetry world is putting up velvet ropes around the stage, letting in only those who can afford the cover charge. The “open mic” vibes of poetry have morphed into an exclusive VIP club. I know there are publishers who host competitions and charge a modest fee (thankfully) but there are many competitions that receive several thousands of entries at a cost of say, €30, and they are making big profit yet offering modest prize money.

Homogenisation: Everyone Sounds Like the Winners

Even worse? The actual poetry being rewarded starts to sound the same. There’s a distinct pattern to the winners’ work—certain themes, stylistic choices, and emotional beats that judges seem to crave. As a result, up-and-coming poets are studying the winners like they’re tutorial videos, trying to mimic their style, their tone, their lyrical moves.

It’s the kind of thing you see in pop music when everyone suddenly copies the top-charting artist’s sound—leading to a sea of bland, cookie-cutter tracks. In poetry, this homogenisation drains the art of its wild, messy, original edge. Instead of taking risks or breaking moulds, poets are coached to produce what wins. The underground, raw, and unpredictable voice is Slowly vanishing in favour of what’s safe and “award-worthy.”

The Culture of Validation: A Double-Edged Sword

This obsession with prizes as the ultimate seal of legitimacy turns poetry into a competition rather than a creative exploration. It’s like if you only listened to music that had won a Grammy and dismissed everything else as “not real.” Sure, prizes spotlight some incredible talent—but they can’t be the whole story.

Many of the best poets are working in small presses, DIY zines, or local scenes without the glittering trophies. Their work often carries the soul of the streets and the pulse of the everyday, untouched by the constraints of what judges want to see. But in the grand scheme, those voices get side-lined because they don’t come with a prize-winning bio.

Breaking Free: What Poets and Fans Can Do

So where does this leave the poetry scene? Stuck in a loop of recycled styles and gated access? Not necessarily. The revolution starts with readers and poets rejecting the “you’re nobody without a prize” mantra. Support local readings, indie presses, and experimental voices. Celebrate poets who challenge the norm instead of just fitting it.

The truth is, poetry is a living, breathing art form that thrives on diversity and risk. Prizes should be milestones, not the finish line. If poetry keeps chasing trophies over truth, it risks becoming as stale and predictable as the pop charts.

It’s time to change the playlist. Let’s blast open those velvet ropes and tune in to the real, raw, unfiltered voices of poetry—whether they’ve won awards or not.