King David is a very famous guy. In fact, he’s one of the most famous men in the Bible. And there’s a place in the Bible where he’s described as “skillful in playing, a mighty man of valor, a man of war, prudent in speech, and a handsome person; and the Lord is with him.” Wow, it’s like looking in a virtual mirror.
Anyway…
That famous guy was also a poet and songwriter.
Maybe you’ve heard of the Psalms. Yes? Most of them were written by a good-looking man of war. Bam! Not some wimpy, modern-day, watered-down idea of what a poet is. And my guess is, although there’s no actual written account of it, that David didn’t sing like a soy boy. You know. That whispery, whiny stuff you hear these days.
But I progress…
The reason I brought up King David, and his prolific poetry and prose powers, is because I ran across a 47 year old poem of mine in my files. And sometimes, when I read an old poem, I recall the actual feelings I experienced that inspired me to write it. It might surprise some how the apparently obvious meaning didn’t originate as you’d imagine.
And that’s the case with this poem. It’s not about me. It’s an example of personification. Or symbolism. And I seem to recall that I wrote it after I saw a commercial that took place on a beach. This poem, that I also turned into a song (according to my 47 year old handwriting is in A flat) is in the verse-chorus-verse format. Each section has words that point to the main character. And the me or my or I mentioned is the object of personification.
Bet you can’t guess what or who it is. Hint: it’s not a famous guy.
Open Me Up
Open up my eyes.
Let me out of this disguise.
Let me burn up like a candle in the sun.
I wish to smell a rose
And feel sand between my toes.
Let me leave and go and say what’s done is done.
I can’t say a single word that’s not been said before.
And I can’t sing another song because there are no more.
I just hope there is no gloom
After saying I’m in bloom…
And that I wish…
Someone soon…
Would open me up.
Open up my eyes.
Let me see into the skies.
Let me fall into the ocean many times.
I wish to find a key
And then hope that it fits me.
Let me leave behind a poem with many rhymes.
© 1977
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