Poetic voice is a complex performance. You may notice when I comment on your poems that I am calling the voice of your poem “the speaker’ instead of “you.’ It is easy to assume that the poem is written in the voice of the poet, but it isn’t always, and unless we know for sure, it is best to assume it is not autobiographical and use “the speaker’ when we refer to the “I’ behind the poem. Assuming the speaker is the poet can lead to problems in the workshop, sometimes, and the conversation can become more about the poet’s life than about the poem itself.
But it is also important to keep in mind that the voice of a poem is always in some sense a performance, whether or not the material is autobiographical; the voice is always a poetic presence constructed by the poet. The poem is always in some sense a mask or a costume.
Writing poems with a strong sense of voice, or constructing an imaginary voice (more on that below), is often an intuitive process that can be developed through practice. As Laux and Addonizio point out in The Poet’s Companion,
If you haven’t done much reading or writing of poetry, you’re going to make your choices based on a narrow sampling of what you know, which might range from the sappy clichés of greeting cards to some fuzzily-remembered poets from earlier centuries crammed down your throat in high school, to popular song lyrics. . .Writing and reading are the only ways to find your voice.
Many times, beginner poets think that poetry should be written in, say, Elizabethan English because they only remember Shakespeare’s sonnets from high school, or they write song lyrics, which can be poetic but are written specifically to accompany a musical composition, which your poem won’t have. As you read more and more poetry, particularly poets of mid-20th century and onward, you will see the wider range of poetic voices and style that exist, and these should influence you moving forward. Remember all the poetic tools you have at your disposal. Sound and repetition in particular help to create a sense of voice. As an exaggerated example, take a look at this poem by Paisley Rekdal:
Mae West: Advice
Better to evoke drool, to vent, retort; better
to banter than ebb, be a kook’s revel or bee in the beret
than a bored tart. Bare those orbs! Rob those barons! To bait
boys, better be a lewd Lorelei than dowdy hetero
drone. Don a boa, take a bow, take a lover, take a toke. Do it
over and over. (And yet beware the ovary not bear
a baby batter overdose!) Better to be Lotto than Keno, blotto on vino,
have one’s bed-vite written by bard than botanist. Better to be boned
than bones. Oath, hath Saint Tits bit it? Never! Never! Never! Never!
Better to be relevant yet wildly irreverent; to wrest
away the old line throne than rest on tenterhooks. Better to be
than not to. To overtake, not be overtook.
Hen to the rooster, tooth to the dentist?
Always better to be looked over, than overlooked.
This poem is is one in a series of poems in the voice of Mae West–a series of persona poems–in which imitation takes the form of sonic play. A persona poem is a poem written in the voice of another person, place, object, animal, or phenomenon that is conspicuously not the author. “Persona’ is Latin for mask, and it may help to think of the poem as the linguistic version of the dramatic mask, a performative gesture. You might even consider the persona poem as a kind of escape from your self, and opportunity to be someone or something else for awhile. The voice in Rekdal’s persona poem is constructed by an associative sonic movement, which she propels by repetition; though the poem ends with a declaration (of sorts), our path to it is meandering, strange, comedic, and even a little absurd. When Rekdal reads her Mae West poems, she does her own vocal imitation of the actress, highlighting the ways in which the writing performs her. Here is a clip of Mae West, for reference:
Writing in persona is a great way to learn and practice the art of poetic voice. Remember that it doesn’t need to be a person; you can write in the voice of a storm or a horse, or even a broom. An exercise I find useful is this one from Christopher Gilbert in the book The Practice of Poetry:
Make a metaphor that likens the self to an inanimate thing–e.g., I am a fan, or I am a car’s tire. Now wonder what this condensation of yourself into this new nature means for your most precious human attributes–say, your words and language, or, say, your sexuality. What does this new nature imply for your human body parts? Where and in what condition is your heart now? What would your eyes see and your hands touch?
Gilbert’s exercise requires “some transformation of the self,’ as he also points out, which helps us get outside ourselves and expand our understanding of the world. Poetic endeavors far outside our comfort zones, the ones that require radical transformations of the self, such as Patricia Smith’s “Skinhead’ (discussed in The Poet’s Companion), can lead to especially powerful insights and experiences for our readers. And sometimes these “transformations of the self’ help us to expand our understanding of ourselves as well. How we choose to express ourselves as a “car tire’ or “fan’ certainly can tell us a lot about our own feelings, anxieties, ideals, and lives.
For your reading response, please choose one poem to discuss. How would you characterize the voice of the poem? How does the poet construct the voice and how does it affect your experience as a reader?
Christy Barrett
This week, I am responding to The Good Sheppard: Atlanta 1981. And wow… my first thoughts as I read this are of Wayne Williams, who is currently serving time for the killing of 29 children (there were a few adults, too) from 1979 to 1981 in Atlanta Georgia. It was a rousing case as all of the victims were black, and this occurred in the south, so as you can imagine… there were some political issues during and following these killings. As someone who is fascinated with true crime and a “born and raised Georgian”, I am pretty familiar with the case. I can see his hand writing this poem, which really made it much creepier than it had to be. (I feel I should add though that I am not convinced, based on the evidence, that he did the crimes. But he was convicted and is currently in prison for them.) I had to stop while reading when I reached the line that read: “With my right hand, that same hand that hits with such force, I push myself up gently.” The narrator is much kinder to himself (or herself) than his (or her) victims. There is a line about needing a better jacket as the narrator is cold. How cold must the dead body be? The narrator likens himself (I’m just sticking with male pronouns at this point because I see Wayne.) to a good shepherd as if saving his victims from something. He states they know too much. Saturn devours his children, he writes as he eats chocolate. This is so cunning. It’s chilling and startling. This feels like a diary entry or personal thoughts if you could read someone’s mind. I prefer this to the rhyming cadences. I like the grit, the rawness, the confessional feel to this. It’s like peeking inside the mind of a serial killer. You want to know more, and that is good writing, in my opinion. Or maybe that’s just my creeper, true crime fascination peeking out. But who is AI, I wonder… This poem felt like a performance to me. A dark one that left the frills behind, and I liked it.
Adeline Knavel
For this week’s reading response I chose to read “CHILD BEATER” By AI. He wrote The Good Shepard: Atlanta 1981 as well. I honestly don’t know why I was drawn to this poem, I think the title being child beater in all caps drew me in. I do love watching crime shows like criminal minds and I think that’s why I wanted to read this poem. After reading the poem I still can’t figure out if he was beating a female dog or a female child. The way AI writes this poem made it seem like he was beating a dog whenever she tried to eat but the title says child beater. I already know that the author’s name is AI but if I was told to read this poem first and then was told the author’s name I think I would assume a male wrote this over a woman. The voice I used to read this poem over and over made me think of a big man that was unkind towards dogs and children.
After looking closely at this poem I started to wonder, is the author a woman? In some, if the line and the way the author writes It makes me think that it’s a woman that maybe gave birth to a daughter and now she beats her. My fascination with crime shows is making me feel like Spencer Reid and decipher this poem. This poem felt powerful to me and a bit secretive at the same time. It was dark and twisted and I enjoyed reading it.
Nadia Finley
Jericho Brown really built up and laid out the inner life of the speaker in “Track 5: Summertime.” Written in vivid pictures and focused details, the female speaker rises from the page as a person with real pain, confusion, and resentment. Her voice is characterized directly as a chainsaw or lawn mower, brash and out-lashing. Indirectly, the reader may find her voice resentful, full of anger towards a god she feels neglects her, has a distaste for her, and has shown this distaste through giving her a raucous voice. As readers, we follow her thoughts on the page; we pick up on the way in which she thinks of herself, “I ain’t a dog. Chainsaw I say. My voice hacks at you,” “I…moan like a lawnmower so nobody notices I’m such an ugly girl.” I am impressed by Jericho’s work in constructing for himself, placing himself into, this persona. The dirty pad across the face, the sentiment of I never want to go back, the remembrance of Willie Baker’s angelic “Please,” the echoing of this please belted through the speaker’s lips with her band–it all delves into this made up life, living an experience unique to Brown’s poetic exploration and creativity.
The voice of this piece, brash and cynical, pushes me back. If I had just found “Track 5: Summertime” on my own, I would have read it and moved on with little thought. I would understand that the author had their purpose for writing the piece, but the angry, I’m upset at my circumstance voice is just not one of the things I would meditate on or want floating around in my mind. But, for the purposes of this class, I chose to respond to this piece because it, in voice, stood out to me among the other poems in this week’s packet. Distinct and clear, I felt as though I could grasp who the speaker was. She showed herself, telling us her story through and by her words.
Ainsley Smith
For your reading response, please choose one poem to discuss. How would you characterize the voice of the poem? How does the poet construct the voice and how does it affect your experience as a reader?
This week I decided to respond to “The Good Shepherd: Atlanta, 1981 by Al. This poem had a very clear pathway where I could envision killer rolling the body into the river and the killer scrubbing the blood stained tiles. However, the voice of this poem, allowed me to witness his thought process.
He transitions from speaking of his killing right hand straight into him wanting to drink hot cocoa by a theater. In another example, he speaks of how he needs a new coat, that needs to be made of wool, because it is “new and pure, like the little lamb,” which instantly makes me think of Jesus and how he holds and cares for the lambs (his children). However, in this poem, the killer’s “little lambs” are his victims. We also see that the killer portrays himself as a “good shepherd,” comparing himself to the Lord. It is almost as if he was leading them to a “promise land.” To me, it gives me a very unsettling feeling, for the protagonist in the poem, truly believes that he is doing a justice for the boys and girls he murdered.
Al did an amazing job at creating a distinct voice of a killer, who sees no wrong in his doings, who believes that they are providing a service. To me, this voice leaves me unsettled and startled at what I have read, leaving me to ponder the possible “justices” that this killer believed he was giving. I enjoyed the voice immensely, for I was able to reach the dark corners of the protagonist’s mind.
Miranda Reynolds
I am going to respond to “Child Beater” by Ai this week and was particularly drawn to the back-and-forth contrast between the speaker’s violent thoughts and calm, pondering ones. The voice perfectly combines the speaker’s feelings for the child and the need to manifest authority over her, creating an almost guilty sounding voice.
The poem displays this guilt using a choppy style, moving between one of the speaker’s violent outbursts and a reserved pondering of what happened and why the relationship between the two is so tense. One example of this is in the second stanza where the speaker starts in a reserved manner, “get[s] her dinner bowl,” and the language slows down dramatically, using words like “watch,” “crawl,” and “pause” to display the tense calm to the reader. Additionally, the process of getting the dinner has been built up to in the first stanza after it is admitted the child is fed little, so that the act of the speaker providing food holds greater positive weight for the reader than it might in another situation.
Then, almost immediately after the food is provided and the child is eating, the speaker “beat[s] her across the back until her tears…shatter on the floor.” The poem dramatically shifts back into a guiltless, anger-driven speaker who cares nothing for the other individual. The choppy shift is heightened by words like “beat” and “shatter,” moving so rapidly that the reader feels thrown into a tornado of action and emotion. This back-and-forth style is sustained throughout the entire piece, allowing the reader no rest to ponder the shift in events. However, I think that the confusion it crafts for the reader also furthers a greater need to understand the mysteriously unspecified relationship between the speaker and child.
Johnny Bishop
So one that really caught my attention was The Good Shepard: Atlanta 1981. The voice in this poem was very strong from the beginning to the very end. the author gave a vivid image of what was going on and how everything unfolded. I couldn’t stop reading it was like I was witnessing it with my own eyes. The voice really popped at the beginning where the body was described being pulled from the trunk. I really liked it
Sarah Corbett
I’m choosing to respond to ‘the red poppy’ by Louise Glück. I’m not sure how to explain the way I characterize the speaker in this poem, but I will do my best. The speaker reminds me of the way Esmerelda (in the hunchback of notre dam) pleads to the gods who she believes won’t hear her because she is a gypsy, and isn’t seen as worthy. I’m not really sure why this poem reminds me of that seen if I’m being honest. I think it’s because it sounds a lot like someone with a pagan religion talking about their pain with someone who has a monotheistic religion. I picture someone explaining the ways in which their religion is similar as they sit in a foreign church seeking solace for their pain. I think it’s these lines that give me that vibe:
“I have
a lord in heaven
called the sun, and open
for him, showing him
the fire of my own heart, fire
like his presence … Because in truth
I am speaking now
the way you do. I speak
because I am shattered.“
Kyleigh McArthur
I’d like to respond to “Track 5: Summertime” mostly because it was the most interesting to me. The others were a little bit more on the strange side, and I don’t mean that in a negative way. The second poem was very sad to me so I had trouble connecting to it because I don’t think I was in the right mindset. The next two after that one just confused me and the last one was cool, but I was still a little confused by it.
“Summertime” was written with the voice of a girl who has been hurt. A girl who doesn’t look, talk, sound, or even act like the other girls. She is the epitome of a tomboy who doesn’t relate to the other girls in her town. She has been bullied countless times for many years and even relates her torment to how the “coloreds” used to be treated, which was not good at all unfortunately. The poem is written with the voice of someone who has experienced so much pain and bullying that she wishes ill on even the town that she lives in. This voice makes me, the reader, able to fully connect with the narrator of the story. The poem is written very well and the voice of the poem works perfectly to convey the emotion that the author wanted to achieve.
Curtis Wolfe
This week I am responding to “The Good Shepherd” Atlanta 1981 by AI. This poem grabbed my attention with how intense and twisted the voice of the speaker is. the speaker pulled me in with how strait forward the path of the poem is going. I could really envision what was going on and the thought process of the killer. It was interesting to see the thought process of a killer in a poem, how he went from killing to going, well now I have to get a new wool coat and hmm some hot chocolate sounds good right about now, right after rolling a body into the river. The voice at the end of the poem was also a grabber to me. It came across that the speaker sees that what he does, he does to fulfill an appetite. It was definitely a unique twist on the poems voice.
Jewel Blanchard
For this week’s reading response I read, The Good Shepherd: Atlanta 1981 by, AI. I wasn’t going to read this poem, the title didn’t really excite me. Which probably sounds shallow, but I read the first line of the poem and was very caught off guard. The poet constructs the voice of this poem in such a honest and simple way. The voice of the poem is creepily honest. With how simple it is it makes it even more creepy. Through the poem, I am able to see everything the poet is describing in such a way that I feel like I’m watching it off the ID channel. Also with how the speaker talks about his needs. It is almost like he didn’t just murder someone. The speaker talks about how he is cold, and how he needs a new jacket made of wool from like the “little lamb” that he killed that night. He mentions that so lightly like that it isn’t wrong. How the speaker talks reminds me of Ted Bundy, watching the Ted Bundy tapes his persona is as if he didn’t kill someone violently and how he defends himself in court so lightly. The voice is honest, light, and to the point
Ta'Mariah Jenkins
The poem I will be reviewing is child beater by Al. After reading this poem, I couldn’t sympathize with the abuser abusing the child. There is shown reasoning for her abuse due to her seeing her past self. I feel like most people would see that she simply hates seeing herself and is only counter attacking the past by punishing her daughter, but that’s only to provide some humanization for her. I feel like there is nothing overly special about the mother, or something that seems to make her famous in history. It’s just past pain that is reflecting on her own consciousness that renders her to beat her child, especially when she is the one instigating it.
The poems constructions puts people of rational ethics in a corner of sorts. There is this gut-wrenching mother who is hitting her child, but it could possibly be because she is mentally ill. It doesn’t help that there is nothing said about how the child is feeling. She just takes the pain and that makes the audience even more sympathetic toward the child. It’s interesting how the voice of the poem is of the abuser, and how the poem provides no closure for it. I can’t help but want to know more of the story, only finding my self guessing outcomes to the situation.
Devin Byrd
I’ll be speaking of the excerpt from the Polish nurse’s diary. After going over the piece twice, the best summation I can make of the author’s voice is tired, frustrated, and somewhat desperate and lonely.
The reason I see the nurse as tired is because she speaks of her difficult interactions with the child and her fellow staff as if she’s been dealing with them both for a long length of time, to the point that she has lost hope and even commiserates over the child’s and her own ordeal in a grim manner.
The reason I see the nurse as frustrated is because she describes her colleagues as bullheaded and unhelpful, more concerned with themselves than the child, and ultimately unfit for their roles as healers. Meanwhile, the nurse continuously attempts to break through to the child via any means necessary, including methods that sacrifice her own dignity, and the little respect her colleagues have for her. She also mentions that she is better educated and more intelligent than her colleagues give her credit for, and makes it clear that some of them are far too preoccupied with their own egos.
The reason I see the nurse as desperate and lonely is because she outright describes herself as alone and apart from her peers, who she likely wouldn’t be able to find meaningful companionship in anyway. She also makes it quite evident in the piece that she is alone in her honest attempts to help the girl, but because her peers have more power, are unhelpful morons, and ultimately have final say in what is done to the girl, all of her effort is wasted. Not to mention that this all apparently took place during the closing days of World War Two in Poland, so I can’t imagine the nurse had much of a surplus of hope for much of anything to begin with. Finding the drive to help a difficult child, in a hostile work environment, amongst openly antisemitic and difficult coworkers, while the holocaust either just ended, or is still being carried out, is quite the feat.
Gabriel Miller
The voice present in the poem “The Good Shepard: Atlanta, 1981 ” is fairly straight forward in terms of relationships, but some of the specifics are murky. The poem is told from the perspective of a father figure that had somehow killed and disposed of a child figure. It’s not clear whether its supposed to be a literal child, as it is referred to both as a boy and as a lamb, but in either case the relationship is the same. The poet crates this voice through the focus on the man’s thoughts about the body as well as his musings when at his home, as both pertain to his relationship to the vulnerable. For the reader, this focus crates a sort of mystery for the reader, as creates a rift between the actions seen in the poem and the reactions and thoughts of the poem’s voice.
zofia sheesley
I read “The Good Shepherd: Atlanta, 1981” and I feel like the voice just from what I’ve picked up in the first few lines is a sad, confused person, the lines: “I watch it roll down into the river… and feel I’m rolling with it,… feel the first cold slap of the water,… wheeze and fall down on one knee….So tired, so cold.” is telling me that the narrator is feeling all kinds of conflicting and exhausting and ultimately sad things, they want to fall and roll and give into it and feel just the cold water and feel nothing. Which is horrible because they’re talking about a dead boy. And then we get right into the inevitable sociopathic thoughts of “I need a new coat”. They rolled a dead boy into the water and thought about how nice it would be to do that and followed that thought up with “I need a new coat”. Cold and uncaring. That’s how I would classify the voice of this poem. Cold and uncaring. They’d have to be right? They are making sweet innocent metaphors about the little sheep he killed and then saying how nice hot cocoa by a fire would be. It sends a chill down my spine, it’s just an empty person. But there’s also that god complex, that “I am helping them or society or whoever” god complex that in their brain makes it all okay and makes it even emptier.
Anna Johnson
I am choosing to respond to “The Good Shepherd: Atlanta, 1981” by AI. When I was reading this poem the lines were very straightforward, and I got this sense of calmness over the cold-blooded killer. The voice of this poem was soothing with a hint of sadness and I think this because this killer probably feels satisfied as if he did a good job dumping the boy down the hill. He was gently reminded by himself that there was blood upstairs and that he should go clean it up as if it was a regular thing.
I was confused overall when reading this poem not because it was confusing to understand but to why am I reading this in a calm voice as if it is meant to be that way. I think it is intended this way and when we read the part about the “sweet mouthful of chocolate”, that doesn’t represent anger, disgust, or regretfulness, but rather a reward. I thought it was a great poem overall and it definitely had my mind working.