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    21 I am the poet of the Body and I am the poet of the Soul, The pleasures of heaven are with me and the pains of hell are with me, The first I graft and increase upon myself, the latter I translate into new. It is not chaos or death-it is form, union, plan-it is eternal life-it is Happiness. Do you take it I would astonish? Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic, And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones, Growing among black folks as among white, Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same, I receive them the same. I do not laugh at your oaths nor jeer you The President holding a cabinet council is surrounded by the great Secretaries, On the piazza walk three matrons stately and friendly with twined arms, The crew of the fish-smack pack repeated layers of halibut. My voice goes after what my eyes cannot reach, With the twirl of my tongue I encompass worlds and volumes of worlds. It is a trifle, they will more than arrive there every one, and still pass. (This day I am jetting the stuff of far more arrogant republics.) To any one dying, thither I speed and twist the knob of the door. You seem to look for something at my hands, Say, old top-knot, what do you want?

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    Click here to learn more about how you can keep DayPoems on the Web. Eleves, I salute you! All forces have been steadily employ'd to complete and delight me, Now on this spot I stand with my robust soul. Any requests for publication in other venues must be negotiated separately with the authors. The young men float on their backs, their white bellies bulge to the sun, they do not ask who seizes fast to them, They do not know who puffs and declines with pendant and bending arch, They do not think whom they souse with spray. Waiting in gloom, protected by frost, The dirt receding before my prophetical screams, I underlying causes to balance them at last, My knowledge my live parts, it keeping tally with the meaning of all things, Happiness, (which whoever hears me let him or her set. Not a moment's cease, The leaks gain fast on the pumps, the fire eats toward the powder-magazine. Is he some Southwesterner rais'd out-doors? No shutter'd room or school can commune with me, But roughs and little children better than they.

    Heard it and heard it of several thousand years; It is middling well as far as it goes-but is that all? At eleven o'clock began the burning of the bodies; That is the tale of the murder of the four hundred and twelve young men. Come now I will not be tantalized, you conceive too much of articulation, Do you not know O speech how the buds beneath you are folded? 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.





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    Serene stands the little captain, He is not hurried, his voice is neither high nor low, His eyes give more light to us than our battle-lanterns. I find I incorporate gneiss, coal, long-threaded moss, fruits, grains, esculent roots, And am stucco'd with quadrupeds and birds all over, And have distanced what is behind me for good reasons, But call any thing back again when I desire. A tenor large and fresh as the creation fills me, The orbic flex of his mouth is pouring and filling me full. And as to you Corpse I think you are good manure, but that does not offend me, I smell the white roses sweet-scented and growing, I reach to the leafy lips, I reach to the polish'd breasts of melons. Clear and sweet is my soul, and clear and sweet is all that is not my soul. Ah the homeliest of them is beautiful to her. 2, houses and rooms are full of perfumes, the shelves are crowded with perfumes, I breathe the fragrance myself and know it and like it, The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let. From the cinder-strew'd threshold I follow their movements, The lithe sheer of their waists plays even with their massive arms, Overhand the hammers swing, overhand so slow, overhand so sure, They do not hasten, each man hits in his place.

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    Did you guess the celestial laws are yet to be work'd over and rectified? I am he attesting sympathy, (Shall I make my list of things in the house and skip the house that supports them?) I am not the poet of goodness only, I do not decline to be the poet of wickedness also. Long live exact demonstration! For me the keepers of convicts shoulder their carbines and keep watch, It is I let out in the morning and barr'd at night. Why should I wish to see God better than this day? Trickling sap of maple, fibre of manly wheat, it shall be you! And as to you Life I reckon you are the leavings of many deaths, (No doubt I have died myself ten thousand times before.) I hear you whispering there O stars of heaven, O suns-O grass of graves-O perpetual transfers and promotions, If you. And to those themselves who sank in the sea!

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    Sex i kristiansand chat dating An unseen hand also pass'd over their bodies, It descended tremblingly from their temples and ribs. Welcome is every organ and attribute of me, and of any man hearty and clean, Not an inch nor a particle of an inch is vile, and none shall be less familiar than the rest. Did you fear some scrofula out of the unflagging pregnancy? Through me forbidden voices, erotic photography sex kontakter Voices of sexes and lusts, voices veil'd and I remove the veil, Voices indecent by me clarified and transfigur'd.
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