1988 Literature Homework

It was indeed, the year 1988, my junior year in high school. My Literature teacher, whose name for the moment escapes me, had assigned us a peculiar piece of creative writing homework. Our mission (which we were forced to accept), was to perform an act of blatant mimicry using as template the opening free-verse styling of Walt Whitman's 1855 "Song of Myself." It begins, of course, with the notable line "I celebrate myself, and sing myself …." I admit, I do cringe a little at the apparent sound of it, as if it were some sort of braggart's delight. But it is I suppose indicative of Whitman's style, this celebration and wonder of the created individual, and the depth of what and who we are as beings of thought, emotion and essence. Nevertheless, I used the opportunity to speak of what I knew about what I believed to be true about myself at the time. I got an A, of course.

I never thought I would use something quite like this as a blog post, but given that I hold before me my journal of poems recovered from the wreckage, plus the fact that it has been 8 days since my last post, I figure it would be as good as anything. So for your temporary enjoyment or not, I present "Personal Thoughts":

I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And you too shall know
That which stirs within my being.

I sing and I play,
Losing myself in the beauty of the tune,
The melodies of the heart,
The harmonies of the soul.

I dream,
Dreams of peace and happiness,
Bravery and adventure, love and hate.
Dreams, which are
The only things which keep me sane, and
Provide me the escape I need
From time to time.

***

A child said "What is a dream?"
Climbing onto my knee.
What could I say?
For I have pondered that question all my life,
And have received no answers.

Maybe it is the playground of the soul,
A place where you can relax
And enjoy yourself without worrying
About reality and responsibility.

Or maybe it is an outlet, a bottomless hole
Into which you can release all your problems
And stress, perhaps forever, perhaps for good.
And yet, maybe it is both and more.
A deep, fathomless question,
The answer for which is not meant to be understood.

***

I believe a tune is no less than the sound
Of the Universe,
The music by which the stars themselves dance
With their intergalactic grace.
The melody sings out in the heavens
Harmony mingles in and out of the Glorious Song.
A tune of joy, life, happiness,
And eternal bliss.
A song that is inaudible to some human ears,
Yet can be felt within the stirrings of the heart,
A song from Heaven itself.

***

I understand the need for a dream,
And the need for a song,
To cleanse the soul of its worries and strife
And to relieve the pain of the heart.
Without these, life would be worthless and hard,
With no respite.
If dreams were non-existent, evil would abound,
Crimes would be committed without
Regard for others,
We would have no conscience,
No consideration,
No compassion.

But we do have these things,
And some of us
Realize their importance,
For they, in their own way, make us truly human.

Yes, I was a rather strange specimen as a 17-yr old. Well. I guess some things don't really change with time, do they.