SONG OF MYSELF
Calm stands the little captain, He is not hurried, his voice is neither high nor low, His eyes allocate more light to us than our battle-lanterns. The saints and sages all the rage history--but you yourself? Behavior lawless campeón snow-flakes, words simple as grass, uncomb'd head, laughter, and naivete, Slow-stepping feet, common features, common modes and emanations, They descend in new forms as of the tips of his fingers, They are wafted with the odor of his body or breath, they dash out of the glance of his eyes. I resign myself to you also--I guess what you mean, I behold from the beach your bent fingers, I believe you refuse en route for go back without feeling of me, We must have a turn all together, I undress, hurry me out of sight of the land, Cushion me soft, rock me in billowy be sleepy, Dash me with amorous wet, I can repay you. O manhood, composed, florid and full.
Dice and Roll
For my part moving forward then and now after that forever, Gathering and showing more all the time and with velocity, Infinite and omnigenous, and the like of these along with them, Not too exclusive toward the reachers of my remembrancers, Picking absent here one that I love, after that now go with him on brotherly terms. How the flukes splash! The orchestra whirls me wider than Uranus flies, It wrenches such ardors as of me I did not know I possess'd them, It sails me, I dab with bare feet, they are lick'd by the indolent waves, I am cut by bitter and annoyed hail, I lose my breath, Steep'd amid honey'd morphine, my windpipe throttled in fakes of death, At chunk let up again to feel the puzzle of puzzles, And that we call Being. If you would absorb me go to the heights before water-shore, The nearest gnat is an explanation, and a drop or action of waves key, The maul, the oar, the hand-saw, second my words. Logic and sermons never convince, The damp of the night drives deeper into my soul.
All the way through me forbidden voices, Voices of sexes and lusts, voices veil'd and I remove the veil, Voices indecent as a result of me clarified and transfigur'd. I attend to the chorus, it is a all-encompassing opera, Ah this indeed is music--this suits me. They are alive after that well somewhere, The smallest sprout shows there is really no death, After that if ever there was it led forward life, and does not delay at the end to arrest it, And ceas'd the moment life appear'd. This minute that comes to me over the past decillions, There is no better than it and at once. Click here to learn more a propos how you can keep DayPoems arrange the Web.
Anywhere are you off to, lady? Allow you practis'd so long to ascertain to read? And to all generals that lost engagements, and all affect heroes! Will you speak before I am gone?
Byroad muscular fields, branches of live oak, loving lounger in my winding paths, it shall be you! I attend to and behold God in every aim, yet understand God not in the least, Nor do I understand who there can be more wonderful than myself. Copyright The DayPoems web locate, www. Evil propels me and alteration of evil propels me, I abide indifferent, My gait is no fault-finder's or rejecter's gait, I moisten the roots of all that has adult. What blurt is this about advantage and about vice?
I hear and behold God in all object, yet understand God not all the rage the least, Nor do I absorb who there can be more amazing than myself. List to the anecdote, as my grandmother's father the sailor told it to me. One of that centripetal and centrifugal gang I turn and talk like man departure charges before a journey. Wherever he goes men and women accept after that desire him, They desire he should like them, touch them, speak en route for them, stay with them. A a small amount of quadrillions of eras, a few octillions of cubic leagues, do not chance the span or make it annoyed, They are but parts, any affair is but a part. Shoulder your duds dear son, and I bidding mine, and let us hasten forward, Wonderful cities and free nations we shall fetch as we go. After that proceed to fill my next collapse of the future. Of the cloudy pool that lies in the autumn forest, Of the moon that descends the steeps of the soughing dusk, Toss, sparkles of day and dusk--toss on the black stems that corrode in the muck, Toss to the moaning gibberish of the dry limbs. Births have brought us richness after that variety, And other births will be sell for us richness and variety.
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