I have always wanted what I have now come to call the voice of

Hear the words of Diane Wakoski, who reflects on the deep roots of her poetic voice: “I have always wanted what I have now come to call the voice of personal narrative. That has always been the appealing voice in poetry. It started for me lyrically in Shakespeare's sonnets.” In these words, Wakoski shares the evolution of her own artistic journey—a journey that began with the yearning for a voice in poetry that was deeply personal, one that spoke not only to universal themes but to the inner truths of the poet. She acknowledges the power of personal narrative, that voice which speaks directly from the heart, from the lived experience, and in doing so, creates a bridge between the poet and the reader. Poetry, for Wakoski, is not an abstract, impersonal art; it is a means of revealing the self, of bringing the most intimate parts of one’s experience into the light.

The ancients themselves understood the power of the personal narrative. In ancient Greek poetry, the voice of the poet was often intertwined with the narrative. Consider the works of Homer, whose Iliad and Odyssey may seem to recount the deeds of heroes, but are, in truth, deeply personal accounts of suffering, love, and longing. Though Homer’s heroes were gods and kings, their emotions were human and relatable. In every epic, there is an undercurrent of personal narrative, as Homer’s voice—the voice of a man who lived through turbulent times—infuses the stories of war and adventure. Similarly, the great epic poets of the East, such as Firdawsi in his Shahnameh, blended personal narrative with grand historical tales, showing that even the greatest deeds are, at their core, deeply personal.

Consider Shakespeare’s sonnets, which Wakoski names as the origin of her own exploration of personal narrative. In these intimate, lyrical verses, Shakespeare speaks not as a distant observer but as a lover, a friend, a man who is familiar with the complexities of the heart. The sonnets are not merely about love in general; they are about his love, his pain, his longing, and his reflections on time and beauty. In these sonnets, Shakespeare’s voice is unmistakable—personal narrative becomes the lens through which he expresses timeless truths. As Wakoski points out, the appeal of this voice lies in its vulnerability, its openness, and its humanity. Through Shakespeare’s sonnets, she found the voice that would guide her own journey as a poet.

The voice of personal narrative has always been central to poetry, for poetry is, in its truest form, the art of expressing the self in the most distilled and evocative manner. Poetry is not simply about external events; it is about how those events shape the poet’s internal world. Every great poet, from the ancient bards to the modern lyricists, has sought to use poetry as a tool for self-expression. But this personal narrative is not always linear. Personal narrative in poetry can be fragmented, elliptical, and elusive, as the poet seeks to capture not just what happened, but the emotional landscape that underpins those moments. Personal narrative allows for truth to be explored in its rawest form, without the constraints of traditional storytelling.

Emily Dickinson serves as a powerful example of this form of poetry. Her personal narrative is subtle, elliptical, and often enigmatic, but it is undeniably her own. Dickinson’s poems are a reflection of her inner world, filled with her thoughts on life, death, and nature. Though she never sought fame, and many of her poems were published posthumously, her voice is unmistakable. She allows no one else to speak for her. Her words are her truth, drawn directly from her own personal narrative, and this is what makes them resonate across time. Dickinson’s poetry does not simply tell a story; it is a window into her soul, offering a view into a private world that has, over time, become universal.

The lesson in Wakoski’s reflection is this: the voice of personal narrative is a powerful force in poetry, for it gives voice to the most authentic parts of the poet’s soul. This personal narrative is not just about recounting events; it is about revealing the deeper truths beneath the surface, about showing the world how personal experience connects to the universal. Poetry, when it speaks from this place, is not simply an art form—it is a conversation between the poet and the reader, where the poet’s voice becomes a guide to understanding both the self and the world around them.

Practical actions follow. If you are a poet, let your voice be your own. Draw from your own personal narrative and allow it to flow into your work. Do not shy away from vulnerability; instead, embrace it. Your poetry does not have to be grand or epic—it only needs to be real, deeply real. If you are a reader, seek out the poetry that speaks from the heart, that invites you into the poet’s world, that offers a glimpse of their soul. Recognize that personal narrative in poetry is a gift—a gift that allows us to see the world not only through the poet’s eyes but through our own, with new clarity and depth.

Thus, Wakoski’s words remind us that poetry is not an abstract art, but a deeply personal one. The most powerful poetry is born from the personal narrative, the voice that speaks truth to the world, unfiltered and unafraid. Let us embrace this voice in our own work and in our lives, recognizing that the most profound insights come not from what is told, but from how it is lived and felt. May we, like Wakoski, find our own personal narrative in poetry, and in doing so, touch the hearts of others.