#todd Anderson poem

[theladwhoisweird]

"Threshold to a New Chapter"

Everyone's on their path with firm finality

And are already striving for the promising tomorrow.

When would it knock, my own golden opportunity,

That would unclosed the portal so I could go?

Falling in despair but wanting to rise in desperation.

I need that insurmountable strength to rout diffidence.

Learn some fate-stirring things then move or end up to life's expiration,

Hoping experience could wean me enough out of dependence.

Hankering for lucent ingress to flee out of the pallid trap.

Fly, shine and face the society to augment this small-town life.

In this run of adversity, I'm sprinting from each mishap

I would rest but I won't balk instead I'd rev up the strife.

Is my destiny still amorphous and I'm the one who'd write it along the course?

Who or what would found me and how?

When would I be brought to the next stage?

Vestibules to fresh starts, chances to unlock thousands of doors,

Continue the pursuit a robust verve to begin another page.

[0bsessiv3s0ul]

"There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin"

-hozier

[spamming-is-a-love-language]

' Like a blanket that leaves your feet cold,

You push it you, stretch it but it'll never be enough

You kick at it, you beat it

It'll never cover any of us.

From the moment we enter crying, to the moment we leave dying,

It'll just cover your face, as you wail, cry and scream

- Todd Anderson

[joytri]

let's memorise poems together

[yellowjackets96]

i just know these four would link up and run the nevermore dead poets society like it’s the navy

(enid is a todd sun, charlie rising, todd moon. change my mind!)

[oscarwildin]

“carpe diem” i tell myself as i order a coffee at 7 pm

“carpe diem” i whisper as i pull out of the driveway before the sun has risen

“carpe diem” i think as i watch an airplane blink in the night sky

“make your life extraordinary” i hear like an old, familiar song playing in the background

[chippedshake]

Maybe it's just me, but it always feels so weird when in a fanfic, someone stumbles onto Todd's poetry notebook and it's all... clean. And good. And makes sense. Like where is the page describing a potato chip because you felt poetic but didn't have any inspiration? The angry poetry with free verses because you couldn't see past your rage far enough to rhyme? The shitty poetry written at three AM when you wake up with what you think is an epiphany but turns out to be total crap in the morning? The cringy poems from three years ago at the beginning of the notebook? The pathetic attempts at calligraphy? The love poems from when you weren't in love but thought that you had to be so you made up a love interest in your life? The thinly veiled imitations of your favourite poets? The thousands of crossing-out and rephrasing and word choice and changing verse order and verse length and oops I used that word too many times and hey I could alliterate here like- Todd, dude, if you have such a clean poetry notebook, you're asking for someone to read it.

[fearlu]

“Truth, truth”

Like a blanket that always leaves your feet cold.

You push it, stretch it, but it’ll never be enough.

You kick at it, beat it, it’ll never cover any of us.

From the moment we enter crying,

to the moment we leave dying,

it’ll just cover your face,

as you wail and cry and scream.

- the poet kid 🐭🍄

(icrytoo)

[spooksalotnoel]

Seizing the day, Dead Poets

In a way, it feels impossible to express how I exactly feel about DPS. Apart of it is the fact that it taught me so much. Carpe diem, seizing the day, I think true masculinity was shown in the bond those boys had. The journey the movie takes us on, getting out of your comfort zone and being you. Funny thing is, they didn't really like poetry, they barely even read it.

"We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion." Neil wanted to perform and perform with passion. When Todd improvises his poem, it shows Neils mesmerized face. All honesty that was one of my favorite moments within the film. Keating pushing of Todd, whether or not it was completely reasonable, is really how the movie blossoms. Provoking Todds ability to make something out of nothing, simple prompts. Evoking a feeling, because poetry is more than nouns and verbs even adjectives.

Brotherhood and seeing things in another point of view. Keating uses poetry to embolden his pupils to new heights of self-expression, "...make your lives extraordinary". Carpe diem, express love and be unapologetically you.

[tianaahhhh]

here's a random theory i have about dead poets society.

when keating breaks down at the end of the movie after seeing the 1st page of that book, that is because it reminded him of the time when he was a boy and was part of the dead poets. what more could have happened was that neil's death had reminded him of one of his friends who had also killed himself at that time.

after opening the book, he saw the text written by his friend who had died back then and that made him realize the parallel between then and now.

[shanksofarmour]

had to read poetry in class today. and that’s how I ended up explaining the entire plot of dead poets society to five of my classmates.

[giolovesyousm]

I'm so sorry

[0bsessiv3s0ul]

"We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for."

-Dead Poets Society

☆📜✒️☕️🚬🏛☆

[joytri]

ever so often I feel low, then I remember that the 'dead poets in nyc' vlog exists

[thechaoticpoetrysociety]

Cold coffee sitting on the desk,

Ink stains marking up the oak.

In mourning I expect nothing less,

Writing letters to your ghost.

Was that you in the flicker of the candle light?

Was it truth you whispered in the dead of night?

Dark winter,

You were lost in the blizzard.

Was it my name I heard you call?

Is that your silhouette down the hall?

Lost in your hauntings,

Is this a nightmare or a dream?

Moving forward is too daunting,

So instead I'll scribe my screams.

Tear stains hitting the desk,

How much of this is a hoax?

In mourning I expect nothing less,

Writing letters to your ghost.

[bleachedduck]

"We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for."

—John Keating on Dead Poets Society, by Nancy H. Kleinbaum.