Tag: poet

Poet 20150912

crow

Today I am reading Song of Myself #51, by Walt Whitman. I grabbed the text from here.

51
The past and present wilt—I have fill’d them, emptied them,
And proceed to fill my next fold of the future.

Listener up there! what have you to confide to me?
Look in my face while I snuff the sidle of evening,
(Talk honestly, no one else hears you, and I stay only a minute longer.)

Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)

I concentrate toward them that are nigh, I wait on the door-slab.

Who has done his day’s work? who will soonest be through with his supper?
Who wishes to walk with me?

Will you speak before I am gone? will you prove already too late?

Poet 20150815: Stephen Crane

crow

This is a new thing.

I will occasionally post a poem by another poet as in, not me, fully attributed. I’m guessing most of these poets will be dead. Maybe we can start a society or something.

I doubt I will add any comments, as this isn’t about analysis so much as sharing something that was, to me, arresting.

—

In the Desert
by Stephen Crane

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, “Is it good, friend?”
“It is bitter—bitter,” he answered;

“But I like it
“Because it is bitter,
“And because it is my heart.”