4/22 Peel Off a Mask, and What do You See?

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Are you who you say you are? Do you ever 'pretend to be someone else, or someTHING else?
"Whoa," you say - "BC has lost her marbles . . ." but maybe not.
Let's talk a bit.

Ever heard of something called persona? It's a Greek term, literally meaning mask. In modern terms, we refer to a poem written from the point of view of something - or someone else - as Mask Poetry. Mask poetry is always written in first person, so if your masterpiece is from the perspective of a nail . . . hit it on the head with a few smacks of proper-first-person words: I, me, my, myself, mine.

Here's some questions you, as the writer, should ask before you begin composing:
What is its world like?
What might it see?
What might it hear?
What might it do?
What does it know?
What might it feel or think?

In essence, you are writing a limited biography of a person or thing. The scope should be limited, but the content is limitless!

"Aww, come on BC! Stupid and boring. I can't think of a thing for your challenge!" Then you walk away, but come back out of curiosity and the shear MAGNATUDE of the challenge.

Okay, I'm Gemini. I look at everything from all perspectives:-) I rescue bugs, for Pete's Sake!
So just for you: The Challenged One, I put my Gemini think cap on and
'thinked up' a few examples. You can use em, or lose em and make up your own darn scenario, if you please.

►What was Napoleon Bonaparte thinking about at that last fatal moment of the battle of Waterloo?
►When Waldo, the Earthworm - sleeps, what are his dreams about?
►What did Elvis see, hear and taste, when cook made his favorite peanut butter and banana sandwich?
►Explain how it hurts a bolt to be tightened down . . . describe the pain from ITS perspective.

Point is - stretch your creativity by thinking outside your personal story box.
Below is a couple feeble attempts just to show you if I can, you can:-)

Above all, have a good time with this.

Bev



Book

I am a book,
please take a look
and read my words
I'm not absurd!
I know you'd rather do TV
or hear me read on new CDs -
but reach and touch my silken sheets,
live through the lives of folks you meet;
I think you'll find just what it means -
to read, is quite a treat!
I am a book,
I'm not absurd!
please take a look
and read my words.

Eagle

Over rivers and mountains
I fly pale skies on great wings.
None can match my flight above
as I soar on the winds' up spring.
Far below lay fields of wheat,
with flesh my sustenance to choose -
but the flesh doesn't see me swooping,
nor has any time to lose.

My eagle eyes are ever pealed,
watch out!, or your fate I'll seal.

Book and Eagle © April 2010 by BC Williams


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Mmmmm I'm liking this very much, 'I'll be back' !
Thanks Bev your examples are excellent....Hugs

This poem by Phyllis McCormack
Describes the mask, or Perception of a mask, that a stroke or alzheimer's victim can show



"Crabbit Old Woman"

What do you see, nurse, what do you see?
What are you thinking, when you look at me-
A crabbit old woman, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit, with far-away eyes,
Who dribbles her food and makes no reply
When you say in a loud voice, I do wish you'd try.
Who seems not to notice the things that you do
And forever is losing a stocking or shoe.
Who, unresisting or not; lets you do as you will
With bathing and feeding the long day is fill.
Is that what you're thinking, Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse, you're looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am as I sit here so still!
As I rise at your bidding, as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of 10 with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters, who loved one another-
A young girl of 16 with wings on her feet,
Dreaming that soon now a lover she'll meet,
A bride soon at 20 - my heart gives a leap,
Recalling the vows that I promised to keep.
At 25 now I have young of my own
Who need me to build a secure happy home;
A woman of 30, my young now grow fast,
Bound to each other with ties that should last;
At 40, my young sons have grown and are gone,
But my man is beside me to see I don't mourn;
At 50 once more babies play around my knee,
Again we know children, my loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead,
I look at the future, I shudder with dread,
For my young are all rearing young ones of their own.
And I think of the years and the love that I've known;
I'm an old woman now and nature is cruel-
Tis her jest to make old age look like a fool.
The body is crumbled, grace and vigor depart,
There is now a stone where I once had a heart,
But inside this old carcass, a young girl still dwells,
And now and again my battered heart swells,
I remember the joy, I remember the pain,
And I'm loving and living life over again.
I think of the years all too few- gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last-
So open your eyes, nurse, open and see,
Not a crabbit old woman, look closer-
See Me.

By: Phyllis McCormack

Hey Sue, I know you can do this! I'll be waiting, watching for your stretched noodles:-)

Peter, the poem is very good! I'd like to see one that YOU have written though:-) Stretch your perspective and show us what you've got, Mr Challenge, lol!

........Facade

Sometimes dark
with purpose to scare,
don my faceplate
become what you wear.
Features transform
to a likeness of me -
they won't know you
for it's me they see.

Often sweet,
like a lamb out to play . . .
but you must act
my part to purvey.
No one knows who's
behind my shell;
could be a gentleman,
could be a belle.

© Apr 2011 by BC Williams

Very good Bev like this one also.

Well done Bev
Well done indeed

I guess we should be thinking of a new one now?

Thanks guys:-) Sue, why don't you try your hand at giving us a challenge? Tomorrow is the fifth day, so a new prompt can go up. Remember, you're not limited . . . use pictures, phrases, concepts, poem styles or forms, whatever you can think of to generate interest and creativity! Just remember to date your topic and sticky it:

Beautiful Dori! I thought you'd be good at 'mask' poems:-) This piece is really pretty. Thanks for joining in . . .

bev

I let my wings sway in the wind
they take me high into the sky,
I let the wings just flatten out,
I am soaring on the wind.
I see my prey upon the ground,
I move not a wing so as not to make a sound,
I move down on the warm air towards the ground,
and then I am there.
Talons out to make the strike,
fish in talons swishing about,
no way that he will ever win this fight,
Dinner will be served

Ahhhhh, well I see you came through - and what a come through! Very, very nice application of the prompt, Fred. Thank you ever so much!

Thanks Bev glad you like this one, you gave me a pen to write my poem you gave an idea, to write it down.
Now lets see if I can come up with another.... :/ lol

Great poem Fred....but poor little fishy lol :))

Peel off my mask
and what will you see?
Another mask ,
perhaps in layers of three...
So many masks
i have lost count,
I am still trying to figure them out;
I started putting them on
when times were rough,
and now i fear they are all STUCK;
i know no other person can peel them away,
but if i don't go at it now, i fear they will stay..

Like it, well done..

Frustrated Leek
Fred West
The leek it stood so very strong,
wondering if anything was wrong.
They all walked by and did not stop,
to survey him and the crop.
The lettuce was looked at red and curly,
some of them were downright burley,
not like him the slim white leek
please would someone take a peek!!
Lettuce yellow lettuce red,
oh how I want to throw you in the shed,
I am white and green and in my prime,
it’s November it is my time.
Oh please will someone look at me,
or should I jump out into the apple tree.
Now a person looks at leeks
but only takes a little peek,
then off she goes red onion in hand,
and here I still in soil do stand.
Does no-one want leek and potato soup
is the lettuce now a duke,
I want my turn to please them soon
or I will emigrate to the moon.


© 2010 by Fred West

The Little Radish
I am a little radish all red and green and fat
I sit within the garden and the garden now is flat.
I wait my turn with brothers and we sit all day in the sun,
Watching the birds fly around us all of us having fun.
The wind blows into our leaves you know and ripples them day to day,
The children of the humans they all come out to play.
Then there is the lettuce sometimes they mix us up,
And clean us under water and put us in a tub,
But what they do after that no-one has come back to tell,
So here I sit in the ground looking like a little bell,
All red underneath within the soil,
Someone has had a lot of toil, talking to us all,
But I am a little radish; in the next row are leeks so tall,
But we sit below their green stalks all sitting in a row, getting so much bigger before the call to go.
©Fred West 2011

really nice masks guys well done