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 Jan 2015 enjolras
Walt Whitman
O me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithless—of cities fill’d with the foolish;
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light—of the objects mean—of the struggle ever renew’d;
Of the poor results of all—of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me;
Of the empty and useless years of the rest—with the rest me intertwined;
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?

Answer.

That you are here—that life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.
 Jan 2015 enjolras
Walt Whitman
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weathered 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 ribboned 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 anchored 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.
 Dec 2014 enjolras
W. H. Auden
As I walked out one evening,
Walking down Bristol Street,
The crowds upon the pavement
Were fields of harvest wheat.

And down by the brimming river
I heard a lover sing
Under an arch of the railway:
'Love has no ending.

I'll love you, dear, I'll love you
Till China and Africa meet,
And the river jumps over the mountain
And the salmon sing in the street.

I'll love you till the ocean
Is folded and hung up to dry,
And the seven stars go squawking
Like geese about the sky.

The years shall run like rabbits,
For in my arms I hold
The Flower of the Ages,
And the first love of the world.'

But all the clocks in the city
Began to whirr and chime:
'O let not Time deceive you,
You cannot conquer Time.

'In the burrows of the Nightmare
Where Justice naked is,
Time watches from the shadow
And coughs when you would kiss.

'In headaches and in worry
Vaguely life leaks away,
And Time will have his fancy
To-morrow or today.

'Into many a green valley
Drifts the appalling snow;
Time breaks the threaded dances
And the diver's brilliant bow.

'O plunge your hands in water,
Plunge them in up to the wrist;
Stare, stare at the basin
And wonder what you've missed.

'The glacier knocks in the cupboard,
The desert sighs in the bed,
And the crack in the tea-cup opens
A lane to the land of the dead.

'Where the beggars raffle the banknotes
And the Giant in enchanting to Jack,
And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer,
And Jill goes down on her back.

'O look, look in the mirror,
O look in your distress;
Life remains a blessing
Although you cannot bless.

'O stand, stand in the window
As the tears scald and start;
You shall love your crooked neighbor
With your crooked heart.'

It was late, late in the evening
The lovers they were gone;
The clocks had ceased their chiming,
And the deep river ran on.
 Dec 2014 enjolras
mads
I'd like to be able to write again, but the universe is turning too slow in the wrong direction.
My heart drips instead of duh-dums
And my breath slips.

Rhyming sticks to the top of my mouth catching grains of rhythm as I regurgitate yesterday's thoughts.

I haven't been able to write lately, not because I am a bumbling busy body, but because time is frozen, I'm cemented and dissolving into the tasteless air.
Everything is too colourful lately, too... anything for me to understand.

Maybe I should start reading again, go back to painting stale blue skeleton hands with not enough paint.

Maybe that's my problem... There's not enough paint in my life.
I don't know, I'm trying... Okay?
Here's my reply
Yes
I don't need to be by your side
Of every waking minute
I don't have to tell you
Baby I love you
I don't want to see you
Waist deep in your own tears
Afraid that I won't love you
When mascara runs quicker than fear
You asked me
Several times in less than an hour
How can I love you
When your nothing than an emotion wreck
My reply was as simple as saying
I was the deer caught in the headlights
Happy to leave my blood on your bumper
I shouldn't have to answer every question
Because you already know the answer
Long before it spews off this tongue
I'm so madly in love with you
Criminally insane people call the kettle black
If you saw what I see
How many tears wouldn't roll down
Those rosy hills on your face
How can I be your hero
When you can't be my sidekick
I depend on you just as as much as you do me
You asked me
So it's my turn to ask you
Will you let me love you
The way I know you love me
I'm pretty sure
Eyes glaring
At the surface of my soul
Isn't supposed to feel
Any less like a stabbing to the heart.
But it does.
You have cupped
My burdens
In both of your hands
And sprinkled them over
The driest corners of my mind,
Watered them,
And let them grow
Slowly
Into something lovely.

I'm pretty sure
That every hiccup of an
'I miss you'
Isn't supposed to
Cause my blood
To blush warm.
But it does.
You toy with words
In the best way
Making sure each syllable
Is coated in
Silky persuasion
And I try,
Believe me, I do,
To let them sink
Into this heart,
You've called beautiful
Far too many times.

I'm pretty sure
Your lips have quivered
And tired of
Grinning encouragements
And whispering warmth
And uttering
'I love you's
But they haven't.
For this, I am pleased.
And this fluttering thing
Residing in my chest
Can't find a way out
To tell you,
To thank you.
I was wrong.
It was wrong of me to not trust you.
But for just one second, I didn't trust you.
And now I can't trust you.
Not anymore.
You were wrong.
You can't love me and do that.
You can't love me and want her, too.
You led me on, you did this.
You lied to me.
I cry.
I cry for everything.
I gave you everything, I love you.
You took everything.
I have nothing.
I'm at a loss.
I believed you.
I thought you meant forever.
I wanted forever.
I'm so lost.
I am broken.
You have stolen my heart.
You said you wouldn't be like them.
You said you wouldn't hurt me.
I was stupid.
I should've known.
I should have realized.
I'll never be good enough.
Not for anyone, no.
Not for you.
I am alone.
I am so overwhelmed.
I cry out, but there is no one.
I cannot breathe.
My heart stops.
It is over.
I cannot do this.
I cannot love anymore, believe anymore.
I cannot be hurt anymore.
I need to stop.
My breathing slows.
I slide out of consciousness,
As tears slide out of my swollen eyes.
I numb myself with restless sleep,
Never to fully wake again.
This is for the boy who took everything I had. I hope you like it.
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