My head slues round on my neck, Music rolls, but not from the organ, Folks are around me, but they are no household of mine.
Askers embody themselves in me and I am embodied in them, I project my hat, sit shame-faced, and beg.
It cannot fall the young man who died and was buried, Nor the young woman who died and was put by his side, Nor the little child that peep'd in at the door, and then drew back and was never seen again, Nor the old.
And I say to mankind, Be not curious about God, For I who am curious about each am not curious about God, (No array of terms can say how much I am at peace about God and about death.) I hear and behold God.Copyright The DayPoems web site, t, is copyright by Timothy.Won't you help support DayPoems?Eleves, I salute you!The sky up there-yet here or next door, or across the way?I am the mash'd fireman with breast-bone broken, Tumbling walls buried me in their debris, Heat and smoke I inspired, I heard the yelling shouts of my comrades, I heard the distant click of their picks and shovels, 100 adult dating gratis nettsted They have clear'd the beams away, they.The boatmen and clam-diggers arose early and stopt for me, I tuck'd my trowser-ends in my boots and went and had a good time; You should have been with us that day round the chowder-kettle.I hear the chorus, it is a grand opera, Ah this indeed is music-this suits.My rendezvous is appointed, it is certain, The Lord will be there and wait till I come on perfect terms, The great Camerado, the lover true for whom I pine will be there.To cotton-field drudge or cleaner of privies I lean, On his right cheek I put the family kiss, And in my soul I swear I never will deny him.I find one side a balance and the antipedal side a balance, Soft doctrine as steady help as stable doctrine, Thoughts and deeds of the present our rouse and early start.
Parting track'd by arriving, perpetual payment of perpetual loan, Rich showering rain, and recompense richer afterward.
How they contort rapid as lightning, with spasms and spouts of blood!
The Yankee clipper is under her sky-sails, she cuts the sparkle and scud, My eyes settle the land, I bend at her prow or shout joyously from the deck.
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.
Not a cholera patient lies at the last gasp but I also lie at the last gasp, My face is ash-color'd, my sinews gnarl, away from me people retreat.My feet strike an apex of the apices of the stairs, On every step bunches of ages, and larger bunches between the steps, All below duly travel'd, and still I mount and mount.Hankering, gross, mystical, nude; How is it I extract strength from the beef I eat?The little light fades the immense and diaphanous shadows, The air tastes good to my palate.I visit the orchards of spheres and look at the product, And look at quintillions ripen'd and look at quintillions green.Urge and urge and urge, Always the procreant urge of the world.10 Alone far in the wilds and mountains I hunt, Wandering amazed at my own lightness and glee, In the late afternoon choosing a safe spot to pass the night, Kindling kvinner møtes i budapest a fire and broiling the fresh-kill'd game, Falling asleep on the gather'd leaves with.I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.How the flukes splash!I ascend from the moon, I ascend from the night, I perceive that the ghastly glimmer is noonday sunbeams reflected, And debouch to the steady and central from the offspring great or small.