High School Creative Writing
This week the Viking writers read Morgan Parker’s “Beyonce on the Line for Gaga.” We chatted about persona poems and how voice and tone influence a poem’s impact. We brainstormed about who we would like to write in the voice of and what would they say to us, themselves, the world. The students wrote from the voice of professional athletes, pop stars, neighbors, their parents, and everyone in between. I am so proud to publish this week’s persona poems.
“Titanical Heart” by Sarafina K.
My eight long purple tentacles scream
fear and my short white hair is overkill.
My makeup is over excessive and my contracts
are unfair. I tricked
a naive sea creature into giving
me her voice in exchange for some legs
so she could meet someone she barely knows.
I have been banished from the lands and despite
all of my unfairness, I am simply
looking for a form of love in any way possible.
I am a monster with the form of a titanic heart
sunk the day I was set as an outcast by society.
I did not really mean to go as far
as I did with my actions, I was simply
desperate and needed help. No, I didn’t want
to drown her with the eels or
hypnotize her “prince charming” into loving
me, or cause a huge wreckage and turn
her father into a horrid creature.
I made a whirlpool and almost drowned one of them.
I was simply trying to fix something was far past
repairing. My heart was still the same
when I met my end. Broken,
cold and very unrepaired.
“A Lab Report” by Hope R.
The results were inconclusive
although we tested everything you advised.
Subject 03202007 is still unconscious.
I worry that with each new experiment
her waking will only get harder.
But, I trust your judgment
if you think she can handle it
if you are willing to take the risk,
so am I.
On the topic of [REDACTED]
Things are going [REDACTED]
Waiting for further instruction on what to do.
“Convo with Nickelback Speaking to Someone” by Sofia Z.
Hey there pal,
Meet me over at the studio later.
Hurry on over.
“Love, Brent Faiyaz” by Anabella W.
Wherever I go the stage is mine.
I throw on my shades and I’m outside all night.
You know I’m forever yours
but you still get upset.
I’m having the best time,
but I’m a dead man walking.
And that’s just the prize of fame.
F*** is you talking ‘bout wasting time?!
I’m not your poison.
I’m your role model,
Seems like I’ve got bad luck
the last one left.
Last time, you came right back–
now I got a target on my chest.
“To: Sor Juana Inez De La Cruz” by Amelia S.
The 1600’s feels so far away,
until I hear what you had to say.
Outspoken and much ahead of your time,
your poetry is beyond sublime.
And though your words sound like much more,
I hear your voice, and I know what you stand for.
Sor Juana, Sor Juana, I know it is so.
Tu eres una perdedora gay, como yo.
You’re a gay loser, like me.