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In me the caresser of life wherever moving, backward as well as forward sluing, To niches aside and junior bending, not a person or object missing, Absorbing all to myself and for this song.
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Press close bare-bosom'd night-press close magnetic nourishing night!
A tenor large and fresh as the creation fills me, The orbic flex of his mouth is pouring and filling me full.24 Walt Whitman, a kosmos, of Manhattan the son, Turbulent, fleshy, sensual, eating, drinking and breeding, No sentimentalist, no stander above men and women or apart from them, No more modest than immodest.The authors of poetry and other material appearing on DayPoems retain full rights to their work.What is a man anyhow?How they contort rapid as lightning, with spasms and spouts of blood!Comment on this poem, any poem, DayPoems, other poetry places or the art of poetry at DayPoems Feedback.Mix'd tussled hay of head, beard, brawn, it shall be you!I follow you whoever you are from the present hour, My words itch at your ears till you understand them.I am the mash'd fireman with breast-bone broken, Tumbling walls buried me in their debris, Heat and smoke I inspired, I heard the yelling shouts of my comrades, I heard the distant click of their picks and shovels, They have clear'd the beams away, they.That I could forget the mockers and insults!Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems, You shall possess the good of the earth and sun, (there are millions of suns left you shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look.Each who passes is consider'd, each who stops is consider'd, not single one can it fall.Does the daylight astonish?Backward I see in my own days where I sweated through fog with linguists and contenders, I have no mockings or arguments, I witness and wait.Still nodding night-mad naked summer night.We also ascend dazzling and tremendous as the sun, We found our own O my soul in the calm and cool of the daybreak.7 Has any one supposed it lucky to be born?Here and there with dimes on the eyes walking, To feed the greed of the belly the brains liberally spooning, Tickets buying, taking, selling, but in to the feast never once going, Many sweating, ploughing, thrashing, and then the chaff for payment receiving, A few.Trickling sap of maple, fibre of manly wheat, it shall be you!30 All truths wait in all things, They neither hasten their own delivery nor resist it, They do not need the obstetric forceps of the surgeon, The insignificant is as big to me as any, (What is less or more than a touch?) Logic and.Ah the homeliest of them is beautiful to her.
Or sailor from the sea?