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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.
Eavesdropping

A good man is hard to find
Said my Nana,
That was the day I saw tears in my nana’s eyes
As she nervously stuff her monthly tithe in the envelope
And headed out to church that Sunday morning
Before, shouting at my granddad
I guess she was mad as hell at the old fool

That was the day I found out that my hero my grandpa
Was having an affair with the widower Estelline Beckley
“Ellie you’re the only woman for me said my Granddad”
However, my Nana wasn’t haven’t any of that
So she slammed the door on Grand dad

I remember being scare, and confused,
About this family feud
So, I hid under the table, and prayed to God
for the scream and shouting to be over

For several weeks all my Nana did was prayed
And all Granddad done was to burnt her pots and pans
Boiling water and making coffee.

Nana told the neighbors, that those harlot with a trail
For a rear end,
can cause a man to climbed, a mountain without his proper gears
That statement still baffles me until this day.
Until many years later when I met my mother’s sister
here in New York the spit and image of my mother.

But had the very spirit and expression of my Granddad
so much for eave dropping and family affair
 Jun 2013 Oliver David
Àŧùl
One.
Two.
Three.

I.
Love.
You.
My HP Poem #301
©Atul Kaushal
 Jun 2013 Oliver David
Gabi
Future
 Jun 2013 Oliver David
Gabi
i'm so afraid, i'm so scared.
the future.
a place of fortune, pleasure, milk and honey.
or a place of despair, resentment, forget and loss.

i'm not ready to be an adult; i barely noticed adolescence
creeping up on me.
the future is terrifying, the future is wicked.
it can be changed, although i am certain of mine.

i see broken dreams shattered on the floor,
scattered like pieces of glass piercing the soul of your heavy boots.
i see depression due to the lost friends who once meant so much.
the people you could barely imagine your life without.

i can see the world's future with our wars and disease.
our ****** and hate, greed and selfishness,
the world will die in fire and anguish,
before we even have the chance to **** one another.

i'm so afraid, i'm so scared.
the future is terrifying, the future is wicked.
all i ask is happiness and to not be forgotten.
given that, i will take on the future with every hopeful thought.
Be happy in yourself
the rest will follow.

(SW)
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