Day 24 - O Captain! My Captain! - by Walt Whitman

I was first introduced to this poem by Robin Williams character in "Dead Poet's Society". The film depicts how one person can make such a huge inspirational change in your life, in your character, in your future self - both for me in watching it, and in the students in the movie. This is what education should strive for, the springing up of thoughts and ideas much greater than you can ever imagine yourself to be.

Did Walt Whitman ever conceive that this poem would break into the masses in such a passionate way?

I had no idea the poem was written about Abraham Lincoln's assassination until I did this poetry challenge. Walt wrote many poems about the civil war. But I am most inspired, not by Walt Whitman's words and rhyming, but the emotion it spawned upon Robin Williams' death. This is my tribute to the man who brought so much joy to people. Rest in Peace, my Captain.

Here is my spoken version of this poem:
https://soundcloud.com/raindrop-11/o-captain-my-captain

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O Captain! My Captain! - By Walt Whitman

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
                         But O heart! heart! heart!
                            O the bleeding drops of red,
                               Where on the deck my Captain lies,
                                  Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
                         Here Captain! dear father!
                            This arm beneath your head!
                               It is some dream that on the deck,
                                 You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
                         Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
                            But I with mournful tread,
                               Walk the deck my Captain lies,
                                  Fallen cold and dead.

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