Dead Poets in the Attic

Dead Poets in the Attic is a tribute to one of my favorite films of all time Dead Poets Society. As many Americans and people all over the globe i will miss the wit and dramatic acting of a true genius, Robin Williams.

 

SONNET 18

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm’d;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimm’d;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st;
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

 

 

 

 Sara Teasdale

Wisdom

When I have ceased to break my wings
Against the faultiness of things,
And learned that compromises wait
Behind each hardly opened gate,
When I can look Life in the eyes,
Grown calm and very coldly wise,
Life will have given me the Truth,
And taken in exchange–my youth.

 

 

Cristina

 

Remember

Remember me when I am gone away,

Gone far away into the silent land;

When you can no more hold me by the hand,

Nor I half turn to go, yet turning stay.

Remember me when no more day by day

You tell me of our future that you plann’d:

Only remember me; you understand

It will be late to counsel then or pray.

Yet if you should forget me for a while

And afterwards remember, do not grieve:

For if the darkness and corruption leave

A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,

Better by far you should forget and smile

Than that you should remember and be sad.

From: Goblin Market, The Prince’s Progress and Other Poems.
Christina Rosetti. London: Macmillan 1879.

Emily's Tombstone

My Life Closed

 My life closed twice before its close;
        It yet remains to see
If Immortality unveil
        A third event to me,

So huge, so hopeless to conceive,
       As these that twice befell.
Parting is all we know of heaven,
       And all we need of hell

Emily Dickinson is one of my favorite poets. I was always intrigued by her life. My seventh grade teacher was the first to introduce me to her poetry. I feel a connection for some odd reason. I own many of her collections and biographies.

EECummings_pd4

 

Another favorite poet is e.e. cummings. Don’t ask! I just like his poems.

 

ee cummings signature

 

 

a connotation of infinity

a connotation of infinity
sharpens the temporal splendor of this night

when souls which have forgot frivolity
in lowliness,noting the fatal flight
of worlds whereto this earth’s a hurled dream

down eager avenues of lifelessness

consider for how much themselves shall gleam,
in the poised radiance of perpetualness.
When what’s in velvet beyond doomed thought

is like a woman amorous to be known;
and man,whose here is always worse than naught,
feels the tremendous yonder for his own—

on such a night the sea through her blind miles

of crumbling silence seriously smiles

 

 

 

 

 

 

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