The best examples of exploring the history of concrete poetry

Early examples of exploring the history of concrete poetry

If you’re hunting for examples of exploring the history of concrete poetry, you have to start way before the 20th century avant-garde. Poets have been messing with the shape of text for centuries — they just didn’t always call it “concrete poetry.”

One classic example is the Greek poet Simmias of Rhodes (4th century BCE). His poems were arranged in shapes like wings, an egg, and an axe. The visual layout echoed the subject of the poem — an early example of a text acting like an image. You can find discussions of these pattern poems in classics and literature courses at universities such as Harvard (search their site for Greek lyric poetry and pattern poems).

Medieval Europe also loved visual text. Religious manuscripts often featured carmina figurata — Latin poems arranged into crosses, chalices, or other devotional symbols. The meaning wasn’t just in the words; it lived in the shape. If you’re looking for an example of exploring the history of concrete poetry in a way that connects literature and religion, these manuscripts are a great starting point.

By the 17th century, English poets were on board too. George Herbert’s poem “Easter Wings” (1633) is printed sideways, the lines tapering and expanding like a pair of wings. The shrinking lines echo spiritual “fall,” and the widening ones suggest “rise” and redemption. This poem is often taught in literature programs at universities such as Yale as an early English-language shape poem, and it’s one of the best examples teachers use when exploring the history of concrete poetry with beginners.

These early works show that the idea of words forming images is old, even if the label “concrete poetry” is modern. When you gather these historical examples of exploring the history of concrete poetry, you start to see a pattern: whenever writers get bored with straight lines of text, shape sneaks in.

Modernist examples of exploring the history of concrete poetry

Jump to the early 20th century and things get louder, stranger, and more experimental. This is where many scholars say the modern roots of concrete poetry really start.

In the 1910s and 1920s, Futurist and Dada artists treated the page like a performance space. Italian Futurist Filippo Tommaso Marinetti used wild layouts, scattered words, and varied type sizes in his “Zang Tumb Tumb” (1914). The poem imitates the chaos of battle using typography — words explode across the page instead of staying in polite lines. For anyone compiling examples of exploring the history of concrete poetry, Marinetti’s work is a go-to reference.

Around the same time, Guillaume Apollinaire published his “Calligrammes” (1918). These are poems arranged into shapes — a rainstorm, a woman, a watch, even the Eiffel Tower. The famous poem “Il pleut” (“It’s Raining”) lets the lines fall down the page like vertical streams of rain. When people ask for a classic example of concrete poetry before the term existed, Apollinaire’s calligrammes are usually at the top of the list.

Dada artists such as Raoul Hausmann and Kurt Schwitters played with typographic collage, combining letters, fragments, and non-linear layouts. While not always labeled concrete poetry, their work is often included in museum exhibitions and academic syllabi as early examples that set the stage for later, more formalized concrete movements.

If you want to see how university-level courses frame these, check out resources from institutions like the University of Chicago’s poetry and poetics programs or similar literature departments. They often use Marinetti and Apollinaire as examples of exploring the history of concrete poetry in a modernist context.

The 1950s–1960s: classic concrete poetry examples include global experiments

The phrase “concrete poetry” really takes off in the 1950s and 1960s, and this period gives us some of the best examples of exploring the history of concrete poetry as a distinct movement.

In Brazil, the group Noigandres — Haroldo de Campos, Augusto de Campos, and Décio Pignatari — published manifestos and poems that treated the page like a visual field. Pignatari’s poem “Beba Coca-Cola” rearranges and mutates the Coca-Cola logo and slogan, turning advertising language into a sharp critique of consumer culture. This is a powerful example of concrete poetry mixing typography, politics, and branding.

In Switzerland, Eugen Gomringer wrote short, minimalist poems that used repetition and spatial arrangement. His poem “silencio” places the word “silencio” in a square formation with empty space in the center, making the blank area feel like the silence itself. When teachers want a clean, minimal example of concrete poetry, Gomringer’s work is often one of the best examples they reach for.

In the United Kingdom, Ian Hamilton Finlay explored the border between text, sculpture, and landscape. Some of his works are literally carved into stone or positioned in gardens, blurring the line between concrete poetry and public art. His practice is often cited in art history and literature courses as an example of exploring the history of concrete poetry beyond the printed page.

These mid-century experiments are frequently documented in archives and academic collections. For instance, the Poetry Foundation and various university libraries maintain online resources where you can see scans and translations. Many scholarly essays treat these 1950s–1960s works as the central examples of exploring the history of concrete poetry because they combine theory, design, and radical ideas about what a poem can be.

Real examples: exploring the history of concrete poetry through specific works

If you’re building a lesson plan or article and you need real examples of exploring the history of concrete poetry, here are some widely discussed works that show the range of the form:

• “Easter Wings” by George Herbert (1633) – An early English pattern poem shaped like wings, often used as an example of how visual form can reflect spiritual content.
• “Il pleut” by Guillaume Apollinaire (1918) – Lines cascading down the page like rain, a favorite example of word arrangement reinforcing meaning.
• “Zang Tumb Tumb” by F. T. Marinetti (1914) – Explosive, typographically chaotic, and often cited when exploring the history of concrete poetry’s modern roots.
• “Beba Coca-Cola” by Décio Pignatari (1957) – A critical remix of a corporate logo, showing how concrete poetry can comment on mass media and capitalism.
• “Silencio” by Eugen Gomringer (1954) – A minimalist square of repeated text, demonstrating how repetition and white space can create atmosphere.
• Works by Mary Ellen Solt, such as “Forsythia” (1965) – Solt’s flower-shaped poems use typography to mimic botanical forms. Her anthology Concrete Poetry: A World View is often referenced in university reading lists and is a strong example of exploring the history of concrete poetry from a global perspective.

These pieces are not just decorative tricks. They’re real examples that show how concrete poetry turns the page into a visual field where meaning is carried by shape, spacing, and typography as much as by vocabulary.

How digital media reshapes examples of exploring the history of concrete poetry

Fast-forward to 2024–2025, and suddenly the page isn’t just paper. Screens, apps, and interactive platforms are expanding what counts as concrete poetry.

Today, examples of exploring the history of concrete poetry often include digital and animated work:

• Poets use HTML, CSS, and JavaScript to create poems where text moves, fades, or responds to the reader’s cursor.
• Social platforms like Instagram and TikTok host short visual poems where text is arranged on screen in shapes, sometimes animated or layered over video.
• Interactive poetry projects, often coming out of digital humanities labs at universities such as MIT or other research-focused institutions, treat the screen as a dynamic field where words behave like visual objects.

Scholars in media studies and digital humanities now talk about “screen-based concrete poetry” or “digital visual poetry.” When they present examples of exploring the history of concrete poetry, they don’t stop at printed books; they include websites, apps, and interactive installations.

For example, contemporary poets might create:

• A poem where letters drift like particles across the screen, clustering into words when the reader hovers their mouse.
• A mobile poem that uses phone tilt to shift the layout, so the poem literally rearranges as you move.
• Augmented reality pieces where text appears in 3D space when you hold up your device.

These digital works continue the same core idea you see in Herbert, Apollinaire, and Gomringer: the visual and spatial behavior of words is part of the meaning. They’re just using pixels instead of ink.

Why concrete poetry matters in writing, design, and education

When educators and researchers gather examples of exploring the history of concrete poetry, they’re not just doing it for nostalgia. Concrete poetry sits at the crossroads of literature, visual art, and design, which makes it surprisingly relevant to modern classrooms and creative industries.

In writing and communication courses, concrete poetry helps students:

• Understand that form and content are linked. The shape of a message affects how it’s read.
• Think visually about language, which connects nicely to advertising, UX writing, and information design.
• Question the idea that a poem must be a block of text marching down the page.

In design and typography courses, concrete poetry offers real examples of how letters and words can function as both text and image. Designers can study concrete poems the way they would study posters or logos: paying attention to spacing, alignment, weight, and rhythm.

Educational resources from institutions like the Library of Congress and major universities sometimes include concrete poetry in their materials for teaching poetry, visual literacy, and multimodal composition. Teachers often use an example of a simple shape poem as a gateway, then move toward more complex historical works.

How to use examples of exploring the history of concrete poetry in your own work

If you’re a writer, teacher, or student, you can use these examples of exploring the history of concrete poetry as templates and prompts.

For writers:

• Start with a simple concept — say, a river, a city skyline, or a heartbeat — and sketch how it might look on the page. Then write into that shape.
• Borrow the minimalist repetition of Gomringer or the playful typography of Apollinaire. Let repetition and space do some of the emotional work.

For teachers:

• Show students “Easter Wings” and a contemporary Instagram poem side by side. Ask them how each uses layout to create meaning.
• Assign a short project where students must create a poem whose visual shape adds information that the words alone don’t carry.

For researchers or content creators:

• Build timelines that move from Greek pattern poems to Futurism, to 1950s concrete poetry, to digital work. Use these as examples of exploring the history of concrete poetry in articles, lectures, or videos.
• When you cite real examples, pull from different eras and regions so your history doesn’t feel narrow or Eurocentric.

This kind of work also fits neatly into conversations about multimodal literacy, something emphasized in many contemporary composition and communication programs, including those at large universities such as Purdue (well-known for writing resources) and other institutions that discuss visual rhetoric and design.

FAQ: examples of exploring the history of concrete poetry

Q1: What are some classic examples of exploring the history of concrete poetry for beginners?
Some of the best starting points include George Herbert’s “Easter Wings,” Guillaume Apollinaire’s “Il pleut,” Eugen Gomringer’s “silencio,” and Mary Ellen Solt’s flower poems like “Forsythia.” These pieces are frequently taught in schools and universities as real examples that show how layout, shape, and spacing can carry meaning in a poem.

Q2: Can digital works be considered examples of concrete poetry?
Yes. Many scholars now treat screen-based and interactive works as modern examples of exploring the history of concrete poetry. Animated text, interactive web poems, and AR text installations all continue the same tradition: they use the visual and spatial behavior of words as part of the poem’s meaning.

Q3: How can teachers use examples of concrete poetry in the classroom?
Teachers often start with a simple example of a shape poem — like a poem in the form of a tree or a heart — to introduce the concept. Then they move to historical works from Apollinaire, Gomringer, or the Brazilian Noigandres group. Students can analyze how the form affects interpretation and then create their own visual poems as a project.

Q4: Are there academic resources that discuss examples of exploring the history of concrete poetry?
Yes. University English and art departments frequently host essays, course descriptions, and archives that reference concrete poetry. Sites like the Library of Congress, major university English departments (for example, Harvard’s or Yale’s), and large research libraries often provide historical context, scans, and critical commentary on these works.

Q5: What makes an example of concrete poetry effective, rather than just decorative?
An effective example of concrete poetry doesn’t use shape as a gimmick. Instead, the layout adds information, emotion, or tension that the words alone wouldn’t carry. In strong examples of exploring the history of concrete poetry, the form and content feel inseparable — change the layout, and you change the meaning.