The Key
Several weeks ago we had a presentation by some poets from our local writing group. They taught us about the different types of poetry and indicated the best poems have many different interpretations of what it's actually trying to say.
They gave us an exercise to choose one of a handful of words to use as a prompt for a poem. I chose the word "key" and wrote the following poem. After you've read it, please leave a reply on what you think the poem is about. In a few weeks, I'll post my interpretation.
The Key
He tried to open the door, but found it was locked.
Many times he had tried, but his access was blocked.
Open – closed – what would he find?
Open – closed – to free the person behind.
He needed the key, to find the way in,
To see the whole spectrum, but his prospects were dim.
There was someone inside, of that he was sure,
To find the way through, his intentions were pure.
The person hidden inside, was under lock and key,
He had to find a way in – open the door – set him free.
He had a handful of keys – just try them all – so simple,
But was it Skeleton, Abloy, Tubular, or Dimple?
A Transponder key? He just needed to work it.
But there’s a fault in the wiring, a fault in the circuit.
Perhaps it was music, maybe the key was in C,
But he didn’t know the tune, so he sang it off-key.
He tried to break the door down, to set the prisoner free,
He tried to pick the lock, but it wasn’t to be,
All he could do was promise, that he’d continue to fight,
Someday we’ll find the key, open the door, see the light.
They gave us an exercise to choose one of a handful of words to use as a prompt for a poem. I chose the word "key" and wrote the following poem. After you've read it, please leave a reply on what you think the poem is about. In a few weeks, I'll post my interpretation.
The Key
He tried to open the door, but found it was locked.
Many times he had tried, but his access was blocked.
Open – closed – what would he find?
Open – closed – to free the person behind.
He needed the key, to find the way in,
To see the whole spectrum, but his prospects were dim.
There was someone inside, of that he was sure,
To find the way through, his intentions were pure.
The person hidden inside, was under lock and key,
He had to find a way in – open the door – set him free.
He had a handful of keys – just try them all – so simple,
But was it Skeleton, Abloy, Tubular, or Dimple?
A Transponder key? He just needed to work it.
But there’s a fault in the wiring, a fault in the circuit.
Perhaps it was music, maybe the key was in C,
But he didn’t know the tune, so he sang it off-key.
He tried to break the door down, to set the prisoner free,
He tried to pick the lock, but it wasn’t to be,
All he could do was promise, that he’d continue to fight,
Someday we’ll find the key, open the door, see the light.
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I have to admit that my thinking changed as I wrote the poem. I started out thinking the poem would be about love (i.e. unlocking the key to my heart). But when I wrote the repeating phrase "Open - closed", my perspective changed and it suddenly was about autism.
I wonder if other writers experience this. That is, start off writing about subject A and discover they're really writing about subject B.
Autism. I really do think that someday we'll find the key, open the door and see the light.