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After reading Franklin Evans I was shocked and in some ways proud of this book. I enjoyed it! It was interesting and it made me think a lot about how we as New Yorkers drink sociably and enjoy life. Some of us drink more wisely than others, but alcohol is a big part of our […] […] I have heard what the talkers were talking….the talk of the beginning and the end, But I do not talk of the beginning or the end. There was never any more inception than there is now, Nor any more youth or age than there is now; And will never be any more perfection than there is now, Nor any more heaven […] […] “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, … […] “I am of old and young, of the foolish as much as the wise, Regardless of other, ever regardful of others,. Maternal as well as paternal, a child as well as a man, Stuff’d with the stuff that is coarse and stuff’d with the stuff that is fine… A learner with the simplest, a […] […] My voice goes after what my eyes cannot reach, With the twirl of my tongue I encompass worlds and volumes of worlds. Speech is the twin of my vision….it is unequal to measure itself. It provokes me for ever, It says sarcastically, Walt, you understand enough….why don’t you let it out then? Come now I […] […] . . . Sit awhile wayfarer, Here are biscuits to eat and here is milk to drink, But as soon as you sleep and renew yourself in sweet clothes I will certainly kiss you with my goodbye kiss and open the gate for your egress hence. Long enough have you dreamed contemptible dreams, Now I wash the gum from […] […] There is no stoppage, and never can be stoppage; If I and you and the worlds and all beneath or upon their surfaces, and all the palpable life, were this moment reduced back to a pallid float, it would not avail in the long run, We should surely bring up again where we now stand, […] […] 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 tongue. I am the poet of the woman the same as […] […] Come my children. Come my biys and girls, and my women and household and intimates. Now the performer launches his nerve….he has passed his prelude on the reeds within. Easily written losefingered chords! I feel the thrum of their climax close. My head evolves on my neck, Music rolls, but not from the organ….folks are around me, but they […] […] Sea of streched gorund-swells! Sea breathing broad and convulsive breaths! Sea of the brine of life! Sea of unshovelled and always ready graves! Howler and scooper of storms! Capricious and dainty sea! I am integral with you…I too am one of phase and all of phases. [50] In these lines, I found that Whitman redefines the greatness of sea and […] […] |