Earth tone table cloths
Naked trees, light family feuds
Uncork the cheap wine.
Tag: Poetry
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Great are yourself and myself,
We are just as good and bad as the oldest and youngest
or any,
What the best and worst did we could do,
What they felt..do we not feel it in ourselves?
What they wished..do we not wish the same?
Was Walt Whitman a stoic?
Parts of this poem make it seem so. I need to research his biography to learn more.
Follow up soon…
From: Leaves of Grass 150th Anniversary Edition (Penguin Classics), pg.156,157
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Great are the plunges and throes and triumphs and falls of democracy,
Great the reformers with their lapses and screams,
Great the daring and venture of sailors on new explorations.
A poem for sleepy eyes.
Who are the reformers?
From: Leaves of Grass 150th Anniversary Edition (Penguin Classics), pg.156
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Great is today, and beautiful,
It is good to live in this age….there never was any better.
From: Leaves of Grass 150th Anniversary Edition (Penguin Classics), pg.156
No better way to celebrate the last day of October than with Walt Whitman.
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Great is liberty! Great is equality! I am their follower,
Helmsmen of nations, choose your craft....where you
sail I sail,
Yours is the muscle of life or death....your is the perfect
science....in you I have absolute faith.
From: Leaves of Grass 150th Anniversary Edition (Penguin Classics), pg.156
I didn’t imagine Walt Whitman being an optimistic poet. The first few lines of Great Are the Myths is all Walt admiring people and ideas with intensity.
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I’m trying to get into Walt Whitman’s work. But I underestimated the length of his poems.
So, I’m starting with his shorter poems. And typing them out into smaller, manageable pieces.
Seeing what I can find.
Great are the myths….I too delight in them,
Great are Adam and Eve….I too look back and accept them;
Great the risen and fallen nations, and their poets, women, sages, inventors, rulers, warriors and priests.
Great Are the Myths, Leaves of Grass. Whitman, Walt -
Matchstick legs ignite
a Parisian son. Midfield
light illuminates.
Blaise Matuidi is my favorite midfielder to watch right now.
He doesn’t pirouette, or flash a thousand step-overs. You won’t see a croqueta, or metronome passing.
But his tackles, endless running, headers, and enthusasim for football gives an aging amateur midfielder an example to aspire to.
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Everyone’s asleep.
Except my laptop and I.
Control-Alt-Delete.
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Thunder hangs over,
drinking chilled beers with lightning.
Candle wicks burn out.
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Of all things I know to do,
pushing you feels so true.
Because this peace I wish to keep,
I push you for,
10 more minutes of blissful sleep.
Floodlights and Goalposts 