
Writers and poets frequently experiment with language, exploring its depths and possibilities. However, a select few push this linguistic creativity to extraordinary heights. The following five poems stand out as remarkable demonstrations of wordplay, ranging from pieces that can be interpreted in multiple ways to those that transform into visual masterpieces.
1. “I Often Wondered When I Cursed” // (Possibly) Lewis Carroll
While this poem is often attributed to Lewis Carroll, it was only published many years after his passing. Despite this, "I Often Wondered When I Cursed"—also referred to as "A Square Poem"—exemplifies Carroll’s signature fascination with clever word manipulation.
Each of its six lines consists of six words, creating a word square that can be read both horizontally and vertically. When read vertically, the first word of each line mirrors the first line, the second word of each line replicates the second line, and so on, forming a seamless linguistic pattern.
I often wondered when I cursed, Often feared where I would be— Wondered where she’d yield her love, When I yield, so will she. I would her will be pitied! Cursed be love! She pitied me …
2. “Washington Crossing the Delaware” // David Shulman
In 1936, at the age of 23, American lexicographer David Shulman penned the sonnet "Washington Crossing the Delaware," drawing inspiration from Emanuel Gottlieb Leutze’s iconic painting. The poem, structured as a sonnet, comprises 14 lines organized into four quatrains and a concluding rhyming couplet, adhering to the AABBCCDDEEFFGG rhyme scheme.
A hard, howling, tossing water scene. Strong tide was washing hero clean. “How cold!” Weather stings as in anger. O Silent night shows war ace danger! The cold waters swashing on in rage. Redcoats warn slow his hint engage. When star general’s action wish’d “Go!” He saw his ragged continentals row. Ah, he stands—sailor crew went going. And so this general watches rowing. He hastens—winter again grows cold. A wet crew gain Hessian stronghold. George can’t lose war with’s hands in; He’s astern—so go alight, crew, and win!
If certain lines appear awkward or challenging to read, there’s a fascinating explanation: remarkably, every line in Shulman’s poem is an anagram of its title.
3. “A Lowlands Holiday Ends in Enjoyable Inactivity” // Miles Kington
In 1988, British humorist and journalist Miles Kington penned the peculiar two-line poem "A Scottish Lowlands Holiday Ends in Enjoyable Inactivity"—only to completely forget about it afterward. Years later, while writing a column on wordplay for the Independent in 2003, he seemingly rediscovered it and introduced it to a whole new audience:
In Ayrshire hill areas, a cruise, eh, lass? Inertia, hilarious, accrues, helas!
(Helas, an expression of sorrow or regret originating in the 15th century, is linked to the word alas, as noted by the Oxford English Dictionary.) "A Scottish Lowlands Holiday" exemplifies a holorime, an impressive linguistic trick where not just the final syllables but entire lines rhyme perfectly. In other words, both lines sound nearly identical when spoken (for instance, "In Ayrshire" is pronounced similarly to "inertia").
4. “A Dozen A Gross and A Score” // Leigh Mercer
Surprisingly, this mathematical equation:
((12 + 144 + 20) + (3 × √4)) ÷ 7 + 5 × 11 = 9² + 0
… can be transformed into a playful limerick:
A dozen, a gross, and a score, Plus 3 times the square root of 4, Divided by 7, Plus 5 times 11, Is 9 squared, and not a bit more.
This poem is widely credited to Leigh Mercer, a British mathematician and wordplay enthusiast renowned for creating the iconic palindrome “a man, a plan, a canal—Panama!” in 1948 [PDF]. As both a limerick and a mathematical expression, "A dozen, A Gross and A Score" is entirely accurate—just like this example:
Integral z-squared dz, From 1 to the cube root of 3, Times the cosine, Of 3 π over 9, Equals log of the cube root of e.
Mathematician Joel E Cohen and author Betsy Devine featured this verse in their 1992 compilation of mathematical humor and anecdotes, Absolute Zero Gravity. Remarkably, it functions both as a limerick and as a complex piece of calculus (assuming the log refers to the natural logarithm).
5. “Nine Views of Mount Fuji” // Mike Keith
Mike Keith, an American mathematician and inventor, has crafted numerous extraordinary poems and prose pieces that exemplify constrained writing—works created under strict structural rules. Among his most impressive creations are a poem where each tercet (three-line stanza) uses only the 100 tiles from a standard Scrabble set and a reinterpretation of Edgar Allan Poe’s "The Raven," written with word lengths matching the first 740 digits of pi. However, his most breathtaking work is arguably "Nine Views of Mount Fuji."
Drawing inspiration from Hokusai’s 19th-century print series Thirty-Six Views of Mount Fuji, you can explore Keith’s complete "Nine Views" (along with the fascinating constraints behind it) here. For now, here’s a glimpse:
Fuji’s perfect outline points heavenward near the river’s mouth. The firm peak in the tan sky paints across the lake an odd reflection, with dirt draped in snow rather than brown land almost up to the top. Perhaps the elder pedagogue of Edo is making a subtle point. The old boatman of Kai rowing to the tranquil village there And the middle-aged Buddhist who once pined for youthful times Endorse this bitter truth: Seen on reflection, things are often changed.
Keith’s poem features nine “views,” each corresponding to a section containing exactly 81 words. Picture arranging these words into a 9x9 grid, filling each row from left to right and top to bottom, one word at a time. Then, envision stacking nine such grids to form a 9x9x9 cube. Repeat this process to create two cubes, each comprising 729 words.
In the first cube, imagine eliminating all squares containing words whose letter values (A=1, B=2, C=3, etc.) sum to a multiple of nine. In the second cube, remove all squares with words that are exactly nine letters long. Discard the remaining squares, leaving two matrices of blocked-out squares, which are then transformed into tiny cubes. (Still following? Excellent.)
Now, visualize suspending these matrices from a ceiling and illuminating them from the sides and above. The resulting shadows cast on the floor and walls would form Japanese Kanji characters representing fire, mountain, wealth, and samurai, which together spell “volcano” and “Fuji.” Absolutely mind-blowing.
