♕ |[47]| We didn't just read poetry, we let it drip from our tongues like honey

[had_not_lived]

[Anonymous Voice Post is Anonymous!]

[There's a pause before he begins speaking in a stage whisper theoretically designed to disguise his voice. If you know him (or his brother, for that matter,) it might be obvious; but really, it's for effect. Don't stifle his flair for the dramatic okay.]

I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life. To put to rout all that was not life, and not, when I had come to die, discover that I had not lived.

We of the Dead Poets believe that, although our academic pursuits are a matter of great importance, such work is not what we live for; poetry, passion, the appreciation of beauty, are what keep us from being bound to lives of quiet desperation.

So tell me, gentlemen, ladies-- can you keep a secret?


[In addition, one might find here and there random bits of poetry-- mostly of the Romantic era-- chalked unobtrusively on walls and sidewalks, occasionally 'signed' with the initials DPS, or the words Dead Poets Society.

Any student of any school who expresses interest in this post-- anyone he can identify, anyway-- will be slipped a piece of paper at some point with a few lines of Coleridge and a time tomorrow evening written on it.]



[ooc; All replies will be text or the same 'anonymous' whisper >3 Neil's AU bio is over hyar, along with all my others. ^_^ a-as always please don't fourth-wall the Dead Poets :X Todd will be posting re: the meeting tomorrow!]

Comments

[misterblackbird.livejournal.com]

A secret? I'm rather fond of secrets.

[had_not_lived]

Are you, now? This is not one I share lightly.

[justdoingmyjob.livejournal.com]

Creepy and educated. Nice.

[misterblackbird.livejournal.com]

Is it not? Shall I prove my fondness for secrets and my skill at keeping them before you'll tell me?

[had_not_lived]

That seems like it might be a difficult thing to prove.

[had_not_lived]

Solemn and serious, certainly, but creepy? I'm not so sure.

[misterblackbird.livejournal.com]

It does, at that.

[had_not_lived]

Did you have a method of doing so in mind?

[goodboysgood.livejournal.com]

[He has his suspicions, but-]

Where's that from? Not the poem, 'quiet desperation'?

[misterblackbird.livejournal.com]

Not especially. I was simply going to ask what the secret was.

[had_not_lived]

You could speak of poetry instead.

[had_not_lived]

The same place as the first lines I spoke.

[misterblackbird.livejournal.com]

Should I?

[goodboysgood.livejournal.com]

[There has to be a huff here. He could have looked it up of course, but poetry - well, he knows the required reading list perfectly well.]

It's an unusual way of putting it.

[had_not_lived]

Every poem is a secret waiting to reveal itself.

[had_not_lived]

Henry David Thoreau. A member in good standing.

[misterblackbird.livejournal.com]

Am I expected to recite some, then, as the password?

[goodboysgood.livejournal.com]

Through being published and dead? I'd rather not be qualified for membership.

audio; sob hello from placeholder land, please enjoy your stay

[treacherouswork.livejournal.com]

[The silence when the line picks up isn't any thoughtful pause. It's really just Claire trying to work out what that means. Sadly, no dice.]

So... you're a lifeivore?

[had_not_lived]

Think of it as something less formal and more important. Anyone can recite a password. Not everyone can speak of poetry.

[had_not_lived]

It's not strictly necessary to be dead to be a dead poet. Being a poet, however, is another matter.

audio; it's a cozy place. i spend lots of time there

[had_not_lived]

You could say that, if you wanted to. I think I rather like it actually.

[misterblackbird.livejournal.com]

Fair enough. So I'm supposed to speak of poetry, then?

[goodboysgood.livejournal.com]

It's not necessary to be dead? So 'Dead Poets' must be a case of poetic license.

[had_not_lived]

Well, I certainly can't force you.