A tenor large and fresh as the creation fills me, The orbic flex of his mouth is pouring and filling me full.
Earth of departed sunset-earth of the mountains misty-topt!Old age superbly rising!What are you doing?We also ascend dazzling and tremendous as the sun, We found our own O my soul in the calm and cool of the daybreak.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.Through me the afflatus surging and surging, through me the current and index.Perhaps I might tell more.Sun so generous it shall be you!Back to top DayPoems Poem.You there, impotent, loose in the knees, Open your scarf'd chops till I blow grit within you, Spread your palms and lift the flaps of your pockets, I am not to be denied, I compel, I have stores plenty and to spare, And any thing.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.Dancing and laughing along the beach came the twenty-ninth bather, The rest did not see her, but she saw them and loved them.What is a man sex datoer for graviditet anyhow?Did you fear some scrofula out of the unflagging pregnancy?
18 With music strong I come, with my cornets and my drums, I play not marches for accepted victors only, I play marches for conquer'd and slain persons.
The boy I love, the same becomes a man not through derived power, but in his own right, Wicked rather than virtuous out of conformity or fear, Fond of his sweetheart, relishing well his steak, Unrequited love or a slight cutting him worse than sharp.What blurt is this about virtue and about vice?Click here to learn more about how you can keep DayPoems on the Web.Earth of the limpid gray of clouds brighter and clearer for my sake!I dote on myself, there is that lot of me and all so luscious, Each moment and whatever happens thrills me with joy, I cannot tell how my ankles bend, nor whence the cause of my faintest wish, Nor the cause of the friendship.Hurrah for positive science!Earth of the slumbering and liquid trees!You seem to look for something at my hands, Say, old top-knot, what do you want?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.Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged, Missing me one place search another, I stop somewhere waiting for you.
Wider and wider they spread, expanding, always expanding, Outward and outward and forever outward.
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.