The oldest UK poetry competition is probably the Oxford University Newdigate Prize founded in 1806. In the USA, the first was the Yale Younger Poets Prize (1918). So poetry competitions have a long and honourable history, but in recent years they've proliferated enormously – a randomly picked UK web site listing 28 national or regional competitions in the eight months between August 2026 and March 2027, and a similar US site some 150 between April and November 2026. But alongside these are vast numbers of smaller-scale competitions run, sponsored or promoted by less established organisations. So the choice seems enormous.

But there are careful choices to be made. The substantial and established competitions may pose only limited restrictions on submissions but are tougher at judging and attract vast numbers of submissions. The smaller alternative competitions often tightly constrain either theme or structure – some extreme examples being: 1

 'a 2-4-2 syllable poem. It has three lines. The first line has 2 syllables, the second line has 4 syllables and the last line 2 syllables. The subject can be anything'

 'Write an acrostic poem. An acrostic poem is a poem where the first letter of each line spells out a word.'

  but they attract significantly fewer submissions so they would seem at first sight a better choice for us with unknown names.

However there are hazards. Firstly, some such 'competitions' have turned out to be bogus. The worst I heard of had an 'entrance fee', awarded everyone who entered a 'certificate of merit' and promised inclusion in a book that was cheaply printed and only circulated (at an additional 'nominal' price) to those who had submitted poems.

Nevertheless, there's a worse snag for those entering legitimate themed competitions – they invite us to be 'clever' on demand. But there's little more depressing than witnessing someone trying to be clever – the juggler who makes their act look difficult or the radio comedian who relies on piped laugher. And it's all the more depressing when among the clumsy artifice one detects signs of genuine talent and, in the case of poetry, personal voice.

We all wish for our poems to be seen, and competition wins are one of the few immediate (if chancy) routes to this end. But I'd rather a poem of mine resonated with a single fellow human whom I'd maybe never know than it won all the awards on Earth, if to achieve those awards I had to compromise my poetic voice or personal standards.

So the question arises sharply – what's the writer's reason for entering competitions? If it's just personal satisfaction, that's fine. If it's the chance of attracting a publisher, that's fine too, but only if one's winning poem accurately represents one's canon of work. If not, the publisher's response to that canon may prove disappointing. But there's a real danger in clocking up accolades for their own sake, which is really just a form of hunting. To use a hunting analogy therefore, the acquisition of notches on the gun stock may ultimately take precedence over seeking legitimate targets to shoot at. In our terms, that means ceasing to be a poet at all, becoming a mere puppet of competition judges instead.

So enter competitions if you like, but with zero expectations and much patience, sticking firmly to your principles and poetic integrity. One day you may get lucky – an opportunity may arise for your true voice to be recognised publicly. But even if not, you'll still be a poet.

 [1] from a listing at fanstory.com