Curled up on her couch with a pencil and a yellow legal pad, Erica Dawson starts to brainstorm some ideas for her next poetry piece. She is free from distractions and in her element. In the background Nina Simone’s song “Feelin’ Good” softly plays as she jots down a few lines. Assortments of sticky notes from things she saw, heard, thought and dreamt about remain close by. Simone’s voice picks up, “It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life for me. And I’m feelin’ good.” Dawson grabs her laptop and starts typing.
“For me, creativity means being open and willing to explore anything that comes into my mind and then taking the time to express it in some way, shape, or form,” Dawson said. “As a writer, I don’t censor myself. If I think it, it’s fair game for a poem.”
As a child, Dawson’s mother used to read the poem “Paul Revere’s Ride” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow to her. Dawson recalled her favorite lines: “A phantom skip, with each mast and spar across the moon, like a prison-bar, and a huge black hulk, that was magnified by its own reflection in the tide.”
“I love the image of that massive ship taking over everything, even the sky.” Dawson said. “It seemed so magical.” After hearing this piece, Dawson decided she wanted to write stories with the same rhyme and meter.
Another poet who influenced her was Edgar Allen Poe. Since Dawson grew up outside of Baltimore, the poem “Raven” holds a special place in her heart. At a young age, church remained another influence to her writing. As a kid she wrote much smaller poems to the rhythms of church hymns like “Amazing Grace.” Many of Dawson’s early work mimic the stylistic form of traditional hymns. In “God Girl” from the collection Big-Eyed Afraid she displays the major influence the church had on her decision to be christened once and baptized twice.
“A lot of the new poems I’m working on now ask questions about what I believe in terms of religion and what I don’t believe, and how it’s changed over time,” Dawson said.
When she was a college student, a professor introduced her to Merrill who wrote one of her favorite poems, “Morning Exercise.” The line in the poem “I did things on a mat to make me flexible,” made Dawson realize that not all poetry has to be about life, or death or existence, but it can be about everyday aspects of life.
In 2006, Dawson received the Anthony Hecht Poetry prize for her collection of poems in “Big-Eyed Afraid.” The winner receives $3,000 and is published in Waywiser Press. Within the same year she also won the Academy of American Poets Prize, which is given to college students. It was for a small collection of poems, “the nickname poems,” which later on became part of her first book, Big-Eyed Afraid. As a national winner she received $25,000.
Dawson’s use of jazzy and smooth styled rhythm in Big-Eyed Afraid makes her style unique. In her book, Dawson explores the issues of race, sex and social pressure to illustrate how one perceives themselves and the world around them. Dawson explores several forms of poetry including rondeau, ballades and rhyme royals to help showcase her stylistic abilities.
After winning the Hecht prize she remembered spending hours staring at the wall as the feeling of shock set in. In disbelief she kept expecting someone to reveal it was all an elaborate punked scheme. It wasn’t until the next day that she decided to tell her parents the exciting news.
“It felt crazy. Honestly, it still feels crazy,” Dawson said. “I was competing against my fellow Ohio State poets for the Academy prize. I respected all of them and their work so much. So I was crazy flattered and honored to win.”
While earning her PhD. from the University of Cincinnati, she wrote her second book The Small Blades Hurt. In the book, Dawson delves into her past, retelling her journey from Maryland, to the South, Midwest and back. As a contemporary poet she uses musical rhythm and vivid images to describe themes of love and the past and present.
Now, teaching and traveling makes it difficult for Dawson to compose poetry everyday, but this doesn’t stop her from writing. Each week she makes time for two or three poetry writing sessions. “I sometimes don’t ever show certain poems to anyone, ever, but I still give myself the chance to write them,” Dawson said. “In that way, creativity is a kind of freedom.”
Many of her works, including “OCD” draws from personal experiences. In the poem she paid particular attention to details: “And I walk through the public park breaking the thong of my flip flop, limping in strong heat while the proletariat of honey-suckle limps along.”
“I suffered from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder for a real long time and had to do a lot of work to recover from the symptoms,” Dawson said. Now she continues to write without having to worry about OCD.
Whether a painter, photographer, or poet, criticism is something that every artist at one point endures. On the Internet, Dawson had one of the poems she wrote called “disgusting” by a blogger. “All art is supposed to affect people, right?” Dawson said. “I like it when people have a gut response to what I do.” Dawson however thought it was “cool” because, “you’ve got to really get under someone’s skin to disgust them.”
During college her poems on cats and family members received the most criticism. Four or five years ago when Dawson was told her work was too “slangy” and “too street” she responded by saying “I got even more ‘street.”
Free verse is something that “scares the crap” out of her as a writer. However, as a teacher or a reader she does not mind examining these types of poems.
“I have to employ some kind of consistent meter and usually some kind of rhyme scheme,” Dawson said. “It just feels right to me that way. It feels claustrophobic for some writers. It feels natural to me.”
For those aspiring Dawson offers this advice: “Read as much as you can. Write as much as you can. Then read even more. Then write more. And never stop.”
Theresa Stanton can be reached at theresa.stanton@spartans.ut.edu