O Captain, My Captain (Walt Whitman)

Okay, it's true. I have little time to write a post tonight since I am minutes from leaving and when I return I am seconds from sleeping. So, another truth, I don't really like this poem by Walt Whitman.

I remember reading once that the Captain was Abraham Lincoln and that this poem was written in response to his assassination. The metaphor just doesn't do much for me. Lincoln is not my Captain, after all.

And again, there is that pesky rhyme. Well, only in the last stanza. But the rhymes run so close together that they clang when they should be underlines for the sentiments. I think that rhyme scheme is much better suited to comedy.

Okay, so that's enough dissing of the poem. What I do like is how clear the feelings of loss are in this poem. And I always like Whitman poems for breaking with the standard nicety of clean cut lines and stanzas.

Favorite line: "My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,/My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will"