O Daedalus, Fly Away Home by Robert Hayden
(For Maia and Julie) Drifting night in the Georgia pines, coonskin drum and jubilee banjo. Pretty Malinda, dance with me. Night is juba, night is congo. Pretty Malinda, dance with me. Night is an African juju man weaving a wish and a weariness together to make two wings. O fly away home fly away Do […]
An Army Corps on the March. by Walt Whitman
WITH its cloud of skirmishers in advance, With now the sound of a single shot, snapping like a whip, and now an irregular volley, The swarming ranks press on and on, the dense brigades press on; Glittering dimly, toiling under the sun—the dust-cover’d men, In columns rise and fall to the undulations of the ground, […]
All is Truth. by Walt Whitman
O ME, man of slack faith so long! Standing aloof—denying portions so long; Only aware to-day of compact, all-diffused truth; Discovering to-day there is no lie, or form of lie, and can be none, but grows as inevitably upon itself as the truth does upon itself, Or as any law of the earth, or any […]
After the Sea-Ship. by Walt Whitman
AFTER the Sea-Ship—after the whistling winds; After the white-gray sails, taut to their spars and ropes, Below, a myriad, myriad waves, hastening, lifting up their necks, Tending in ceaseless flow toward the track of the ship: Waves of the ocean, bubbling and gurgling, blithely prying, Waves, undulating waves—liquid, uneven, emulous waves, Toward that whirling current, […]
Perfections. by Walt Whitman
ONLY themselves understand themselves, and the like of themselves, As Souls only understand Souls. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the ultimate repository of world poetry. Poetry Monster — the multilingual library of poetic works. Here you’ll find original poems, […]
Pensive on Her Dead Gazing, I Heard the Mother of All. by Walt Whitman
PENSIVE, on her dead gazing, I heard the Mother of All, Desperate, on the torn bodies, on the forms covering the battle-fields gazing; (As the last gun ceased—but the scent of the powder-smoke linger’d;) As she call’d to her earth with mournful voice while she stalk’d: Absorb them well, O my earth, she cried—I charge […]
Pensive and Faltering. by Walt Whitman
PENSIVE and faltering, The words, the dead, I write; For living are the Dead; (Haply the only living, only real, And I the apparition—I the spectre.) 5 ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the ultimate repository of world poetry. Poetry […]
Pensive and Faltering. by Walt Whitman
PENSIVE and faltering, The words, the dead, I write; For living are the Dead; (Haply the only living, only real, And I the apparition—I the spectre.) 5 ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the ultimate repository of world poetry. Poetry […]
Patroling Barnegat. by Walt Whitman
WILD, wild the storm, and the sea high running, Steady the roar of the gale, with incessant undertone muttering, Shouts of demoniac laughter fitfully piercing and pealing, Waves, air, midnight, their savagest trinity lashing, Out in the shadows there milk-white combs careering, On beachy slush and sand spirts of snow fierce slanting, Where through the […]
Out from Behind this Mask. by Walt Whitman
1 OUT from behind this bending, rough-cut Mask, (All straighter, liker Masks rejected—this preferr’d,) This common curtain of the face, contain’d in me for me, in you for you, in each for each, (Tragedies, sorrows, laughter, tears—O heaven! The passionate, teeming plays this curtain hid!) This glaze of God’s serenest, purest sky, This film of […]
Others may Praise what They Like. by Walt Whitman
OTHERS may praise what they like; But I, from the banks of the running Missouri, praise nothing, in art, or aught else, Till it has well inhaled the atmosphere of this river—also the western prairie-scent, And fully exudes it again. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by […]
One Sweeps By. by Walt Whitman
ONE sweeps by, attended by an immense train, All emblematic of peace—not a soldier or menial among them. One sweeps by, old, with black eyes, and profuse white hair, He has the simple magnificence of health and strength, His face strikes as with flashes of lightning whoever it turns toward. Three old men slowly pass, […]
One’s-Self I Sing. by Walt Whitman
ONE’S-SELF I sing—a simple, separate Person; Yet utter the word Democratic, the word En-masse. Of Physiology from top to toe I sing; Not physiognomy alone, nor brain alone, is worthy for the muse—I say the Form complete is worthier far; The Female equally with the male I sing. Of Life immense in passion, pulse, and […]
On the Beach at Night, Alone. by Walt Whitman
ON the beach at night alone, As the old mother sways her to and fro, singing her husky song, As I watch the bright stars shining—I think a thought of the clef of the universes, and of the future. A VAST SIMILITUDE interlocks all, All spheres, grown, ungrown, small, large, suns, moons, planets, comets, asteroids, […]
Offerings. by Walt Whitman
A THOUSAND perfect men and women appear, Around each gathers a cluster of friends, and gay children and youths, with offerings. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the ultimate repository of world poetry. Poetry Monster — the multilingual library of […]
Of the Visage of Things. by Walt Whitman
OF the visages of things—And of piercing through to the accepted hells beneath; Of ugliness—To me there is just as much in it as there is in beauty—And now the ugliness of human beings is acceptable to me; Of detected persons—To me, detected persons are not, in any respect, worse than undetected persons—and are not […]
O You Whom I Often and Silently Come. by Walt Whitman
O YOU whom I often and silently come where you are, that I may be with you; As I walk by your side, or sit near, or remain in the same room with you, Little you know the subtle electric fire that for your sake is playing within me. ————— The End And that’s the […]
O Tan-faced Prairie Boy. by Walt Whitman
O TAN-FACED prairie-boy! Before you came to camp, came many a welcome gift; Praises and presents came, and nourishing food—till at last, among the recruits, You came, taciturn, with nothing to give—we but look’d on each other, When lo! more than all the gifts of the world, you gave me. 5 ————— The End And […]
O Sun of Real Peace. by Walt Whitman
O SUN of real peace! O hastening light! O free and extatic! O what I here, preparing, warble for! O the sun of the world will ascend, dazzling, and take his height—and you too, O my Ideal, will surely ascend! O so amazing and broad—up there resplendent, darting and burning! O vision prophetic, stagger’d with […]
O Star of France. by Walt Whitman
1 O STAR of France! The brightness of thy hope and strength and fame, Like some proud ship that led the fleet so long, Beseems to-day a wreck, driven by the gale—a mastless hulk; And ’mid its teeming, madden’d, half-drown’d crowds, Nor helm nor helmsman. 2 Dim, smitten star! Orb not of France alone—pale symbol […]
O Living Always—Always Dying. by Walt Whitman
O LIVING always—always dying! O the burials of me, past and present! O me, while I stride ahead, material, visible, imperious as ever! O me, what I was for years, now dead, (I lament not—I am content;) O to disengage myself from those corpses of me, which I turn and look at, where I cast […]
O Hymen! O Hymenee! by Walt Whitman
O HYMEN! O hymenee! Why do you tantalize me thus? O why sting me for a swift moment only? Why can you not continue? O why do you now cease? Is it because, if you continued beyond the swift moment, you would soon certainly kill me? 5 ————— The End And that’s the End of […]
O Bitter Sprig! Confession Sprig! by Walt Whitman
O BITTER sprig! Confession sprig! In the bouquet I give you place also—I bind you in, Proceeding no further till, humbled publicly, I give fair warning, once for all. I own that I have been sly, thievish, mean, a prevaricator, greedy, derelict, And I own that I remain so yet. What foul thought but I […]
Now Finale to the Shore. by Walt Whitman
NOW finale to the shore! Now, land and life, finale, and farewell! Now Voyager depart! (much, much for thee is yet in store;) Often enough hast thou adventur’d o’er the seas, Cautiously cruising, studying the charts, Duly again to port, and hawser’s tie, returning: —But now obey, thy cherish’d, secret wish, Embrace thy friends—leave all […]
Not Youth Pertains to Me. by Walt Whitman
NOT youth pertains to me, Nor delicatesse—I cannot beguile the time with talk; Awkward in the parlor, neither a dancer nor elegant; In the learn’d coterie sitting constrain’d and still—for learning. inures not to me; Beauty, knowledge, inure not to me—yet there are two or three things inure to me; I have nourish’d the wounded, […]
Not the Pilot. by Walt Whitman
NOT the pilot has charged himself to bring his ship into port, though beaten back, and many times baffled; Not the path-finder, penetrating inland, weary and long, By deserts parch’d, snows-chill’d, rivers wet, perseveres till he reaches his destination, More than I have charged myself, heeded or unheeded, to compose a free march for These […]
Not Heaving from My Ribb’d Breast Only. by Walt Whitman
NOT heaving from my ribb’d breast only; Not in sighs at night, in rage, dissatisfied with myself; Not in those long-drawn, ill-supprest sighs; Not in many an oath and promise broken; Not in my wilful and savage soul’s volition; Not in the subtle nourishment of the air; Not in this beating and pounding at my […]
Night on The Prairies. by Walt Whitman
NIGHT on the prairies; The supper is over—the fire on the ground burns low; The wearied emigrants sleep, wrapt in their blankets: I walk by myself—I stand and look at the stars, which I think now I never realized before. Now I absorb immortality and peace, I admire death, and test propositions. How plenteous! How […]
Myself and Mine. by Walt Whitman
MYSELF and mine gymnastic ever, To stand the cold or heat—to take good aim with a gun—to sail a boat—to manage horses—to beget superb children, To speak readily and clearly—to feel at home among common people, And to hold our own in terrible positions, on land and sea. Not for an embroiderer; (There will always […]
My Picture-Gallery. by Walt Whitman
IN a little house keep I pictures suspended, it is not a fix’d house, It is round, it is only a few inches from one side to the other; Yet behold, it has room for all the shows of the world, all memories? Here the tableaus of life, and here the groupings of death; Here, […]
Mother and Babe. by Walt Whitman
I SEE the sleeping babe, nestling the breast of its mother; The sleeping mother and babe—hush’d, I study them long and long. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the ultimate repository of world poetry. Poetry Monster — the multilingual library […]
Mediums. by Walt Whitman
THEY shall arise in the States, They shall report Nature, laws, physiology, and happiness; They shall illustrate Democracy and the kosmos; They shall be alimentive, amative, perceptive; They shall be complete women and men—their pose brawny and supple, their drink water, their blood clean and clear; They shall enjoy materialism and the sight of products—they […]
Me Imperturbe. by Walt Whitman
ME imperturbe, standing at ease in Nature, Master of all, or mistress of all—aplomb in the midst of irrational things, Imbued as they—passive, receptive, silent as they, Finding my occupation, poverty, notoriety, foibles, crimes, less important than I thought; Me private, or public, or menial, or solitary—all these subordinate, (I am eternally equal with the […]
Look Down, Fair Moon. by Walt Whitman
LOOK down, fair moon, and bathe this scene; Pour softly down night’s nimbus floods, on faces ghastly, swollen, purple; On the dead, on their backs, with their arms toss’d wide, Pour down your unstinted nimbus, sacred moon. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. […]
Long, too Long, O Land! by Walt Whitman
LONG, too long, O land, Traveling roads all even and peaceful, you learn’d from joys and prosperity only; But now, ah now, to learn from crises of anguish—advancing, grappling with direst fate, and recoiling not; And now to conceive, and show to the world, what your children en-masse really are; (For who except myself has […]
Locations and Times. by Walt Whitman
LOCATIONS and times—what is it in me that meets them all, whenever and wherever, and makes me at home? Forms, colors, densities, odors—what is it in me that corresponds with them? ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the ultimate repository […]
Lo! Victress on the Peaks. by Walt Whitman
LO! Victress on the peaks! Where thou, with mighty brow, regarding the world, (The world, O Libertad, that vainly conspired against thee;) Out of its countless beleaguering toils, after thwarting them all; Dominant, with the dazzling sun around thee, Flauntest now unharm’d, in immortal soundness and bloom—lo! in these hours supreme, No poem proud, I, […]
Joy, Shipmate, Joy! by Walt Whitman
JOY! shipmate—joy! (Pleas’d to my Soul at death I cry;) Our life is closed—our life begins; The long, long anchorage we leave, The ship is clear at last—she leaps! She swiftly courses from the shore; Joy! shipmate—joy! ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. […]
Inscription. by Walt Whitman
SMALL is the theme of the following Chant, yet the greatest—namely, One’s-Self—that wondrous thing a simple, separate person. That, for the use of the New World, I sing. Man’s physiology complete, from top to toe, I sing. Not physiognomy alone, nor brain alone, is worthy for the muse;—I say the Form complete is worthier far. […]
In the New Garden in all the Parts. by Walt Whitman
IN the new garden, in all the parts, In cities now, modern, I wander, Though the second or third result, or still further, primitive yet, Days, places, indifferent—though various, the same, Time, Paradise, the Mannahatta, the prairies, finding me unchanged, Death indifferent—Is it that I lived long since? Was I buried very long ago? For […]