Northern Drive to St Lucy

Northern Drive to St Lucy
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Saturday, September 20, 2014

Comments on Second Person Persona Poem


To the right side of First Person box is Second Person box. Under Second Person box is a box containing Second Person pronouns; “you”, “your”, and “thou”. 



The poem, “It Is Hard Today” shown below contains these Second Person pronouns:

 

It Is Hard Today

(Second Person Persona Poem)

 

You search for love and find, it is hard today
The grits and pain are more than sand, for sure
Handful of tricks, intermix to transfix
The mind, they knock at every lover’s door
Their keys, push bolts aside, with plenty screws
So guard your soul, with the rose-thorn fence
Players of harps, would find, no audience.
List of emotional needs, don’t you show,
Hoping for a suitor, whom you adore,
No way! Gone like the wind for ever more.
Wear tight the ace of hearts, on chest, not sleeves
Reverse psychology tool, leads the way
Say yes, when you mean no; this is called tact
Lying is not the charm that holds love close.


What effect does the second person pronouns “you” has on the audience? In the poem the pronoun “you” has created a Second Person Persona narrative. The poet is no longer the protagonist. The role has shifted to the audience. Second Person Persona poems do create distance between poet and the audience. One gets the impression that the poet does not want to speak to the audience directly. It also conveys the notion of being too instructional thus making the audience average, idealizing or topical. These impressions could be the reasons why most poets tend to shy away from writing Second Persona poems. Nevertheless, the use of Second Person “you” is fairly common in poetry, and since poets do not want to wear the label of being “too aloof” the combination of the “you” and “I” is increasingly seen in poems.  An example of this is seen in the poems, “Addiction” and "Easter" shown below.


Addiction

(Second Person Persona Poem in Trimeter quintain)

 

Day and night I touch you

Can't take my mind off you

I sit and brood for you

When my hands can't touch you

You invade my mind, you.

 

I want you, I need you

I cannot resist you

Every day I want you

My feet crawl under you 

All the more, I want you.

 

My fingers embrace you

My lips can't resist you

I drink the flow of you

Brewing all over you

You in me, me in you.

 

Soul and body in you

Liking the taste of you

Always want more of you

In  the heat, I wait for you

All day I'm craving you.

 

My lips so cool on you

Sipping, I savor you

I am a slave for you

Poor me thirsting for you

The hot tea; and not you.





Easter

Three months passed since the Asian tsunami;
And much sadness still lingers in the air;
Easter has landed, north, south, east and west,
With many customs and pagan legends,
And here am I in Aotearoa,
Walking in reverse so my head tells me;
So strange, Easter falls in autumn, not spring.

Such a movable feast you will agree;
Marching along toward April showers,
And variable in so many ways:
Like the Westerlies crossing the Tasman,
Or like those northern Atlantic Trade Winds;
Akin to Pesach, and the Risen Christ;
Redemption is approached in heaps of ways.

During Holy Week we watched the TV;
Beaming images to ‘The Long White Cloud’;
Pope John Paul Two with tracheotomy,
In the Vatican at Saint Peter’s Square,
Gave an Easter muted blessing on us.
Through faith, we wished his silent voice would speak,
To us, his waving hand signaled farewell.

The fertility symbol of Easter,
We agree, springs up a new successor;
Amid chicks, bunnies, and eggs we behold
In awe, this mystic season of rebirth,
Where bright colors of daffodils’ sunlight,
Our hope, from a Savior who burst the tomb!
God’ Son, our great gift from the Almighty...

His death, resurrection, and ascension,
Reclaimed for you and me our Paradise;
So we pledge allegiance to the Risen;
Through Him, no evil power can hold sway,
For we all have found grace in God' great sight,
And His Light has brightened our darkest spot;
So flying kites cannot outpace our prayers.


In these two types of poems, two points of view or voices have emerged; the poet and the reader. The poet is no longer the sole character in the poem. In “Addition” and in “Easter” poet speaks but at the same time lets readers become part of the conversation. The poetic performance is shared.


 

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Natural disasters whenever and wherever they occur impact on all of our lives. The Good Book says we are our brothers and sisters keepers lead by the Holy Spirit. Hence, we must do our part when disaster shows its ugly face. Any assistance, great or small, given from generous and loving hearts has equal weight. I'm passing on this information I received that Barbadians can go to First Caribbean Bank to donate to the Disaster Relief Fund for Haiti. The banking information is shown below:

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