More Patricia Smith, Persona Poems, and a Prompt

One thing Patricia Smith does masterfully is the persona poem (sometimes called dramatic monologue). Poets.org defines the dramatic monologue as a poem in which "the poet speaks through an assumed voice--a character, a fictional identity, or a persona."

In Blood Dazzler, Smith takes on a range of personae from Hurricane Katrina to President Bush to a dog left behind. What surprised me was that the persona poems written in the voice of inanimate things could work. There seems to me a great deal of risk in speaking in the voice of the Superdome.

The Greek word persona means "mask," and some poets suggest wearing the mask of someone else--writing from a different point of view--is freeing because you are not writing your story, your vulnerabilities. However, I think to write a successful persona poem, the poet might have to make herself more vulnerable than, or at least as vulnerable as, when writing about her personal experiences. She must be able to locate in herself aspects of that other person (or thing), no matter how different or frightening or uncomfortable. Just as writing about the self reveals the other, writing about the other reveals the self. (A side thought--does this come more naturally for writers who write fiction more frequently than I?)

I found this interview with Patricia Smith (interviewed by Cherryl Floyd-Miller for Torch) where she talks about crafting persona poems. About the persona poem, Smith says:

I think the persona poem moves us out of our space, moves us out of our comfort zone where we’re almost forced to take a really hard look at another life. Whether it be something you’re just doing for the fun of it, like, you know, wow, what’s it like to be Little Richard for a day, or you’re sitting next to some woman who is clutching like twenty bags or something on the subway, you know that her whole life is in those bags, and you realize just how close everyone’s life is to your own. They may look really distant. You may say, “Oh my God, I’d never be a bag lady.” But starting to look at that persona and really examining it honestly, you realize how close we all are, and you may really be one paycheck away from that. So, it kind of forces us outside of ourselves – which we should all in a perfect world do naturally anyway. We should strive to relate to whoever it is that we meet, or we don’t meet, anyway. I mean, that’s what the human race is supposedly all about, but we don’t do that. Working in persona – if you do it enough – kind of makes that a second nature, even if it’s somebody you will never write about. You tend to take a closer look at their lives because you’re used to doing that in your creative work.

And she says:

Persona helps develop the poet’s eye. Then when you come back to yourself with that knowledge, you can write about yourself in a way that is more insightful and probing than before.

So if you're looking for something to try, write a persona poem. As Smith suggests in the interview, start from your natural curiosity. Begin from a question you want answered.

Prompt

Raised Catholic, I continue to be intrigued by the tradition and ritual of the Catholic church, its saints and sacraments, its popes and Purgatory, and on and on. The imagery of this tradition frequently appears in my creative writing. So here's a writing prompt--good for writers of all genres--that rises from this intrigue.

Write a confession. It might be a first-person narrative or dramatic monologue. It might be heavy or humorous. It might be a long-kept secret or widely known fact. It might be directed to someone specific or the world at large. It might be none of these things. The goal, as with any prompt, is to play, to follow whatever trails the writing leads us to.

The Diner, Lists, and a Prompt

We went to the Market Street Diner last night. The food was too rich...too much cheese and cream. But then I have to remind myself I don't keep going back for the dinners. I go there for the pies and shakes. I love walking in to face the glass case filled with the day's selection of pies, cakes, and cookies. I love the order slip the server sets down on our table that lists the pies in the case.

And then I realize I love lists. I'm not the only one. Lists abound in our culture. To-do lists, top ten lists, grocery lists, bulleted lists, numbered lists. And if there's one thing I've learned from my experience as a technical writer, the corporate world loves lists too. They are effective because they are concise and easy to read. Who hasn't scanned a manual or e-mail for the list that so neatly sums up what has been dragged out for pages?

Poetry loves lists too, as evidenced by the list, or catalog, poem. I'm still looking for a great list poem to share. If you have one in mind, let me know! Perhaps that's what this week's prompt should be. Write a list poem--an inventory of things, people, places, ideas, whatever is on your mind.

For now, I'll end with a list of my favorite pies (in no particular order, and honestly I haven't met a pie I wouldn't eat):

• French Silk
• Rhubarb
• Oreo
• Peanut Butter
• Apple
• Blueberry
• Lemon Meringue
• Peach
• Derby
• Raspberry
  

Prompt

Let's be honest. I am not one of those writers. You know, the ones who write & write & write, ideas and fleshed-out themes bleeding from a vein that never runs dry (hmm...that pinkie wound must be at the forefront of my mind still).

I am the writer whose muse disappears frequently and without notice. For example, right now my muse is sleeping in, enjoying the cool morning sheets and pillows piled around her head like the woven flowers draped over winning horses.

As such, I rely heavily on prompts, that little shove on the backside to get my writing going. Here's a prompt I'm giving myself:

Write a thank you to things you don't usually thank: a skillet, a lightbulb, a bedsheet.

from Writing Alone and With Others by Pat Schneider

If anyone out there tries this, consider posting your experience in the comments...did the prompt work for you? Did it take you in an unexpected direction? Did it make your muse think twice about sleeping in?