My foothold is tenon'd and mortis'd in granite, I laugh at what you call dissolution, And I know the amplitude of time.
Man or woman, I might tell how I like you, but cannot, And might tell what it is in me and what it is in you, but cannot, And might tell that pining I have, that pulse of my nights and days.
The editor of DayPoems will gladly assist in putting interested parties in contact with the authors.We had receiv'd some eighteen pound shots under the water, On our lower-gun-deck two large pieces had burst at the first fire, killing all around and blowing up overhead.28 Is this then a touch?Sprouts take and accumulate, stand by the curb prolific and vital, Landscapes projected masculine, full-sized and golden.35 Would you hear of an old-time sea-fight?I fly those flights of a fluid and swallowing soul, My course runs below the soundings of plummets.Our frigate takes fire, The other asks if we demand quarter?Becoming already a creator, Putting myself here and now to the ambush'd womb of the shadows.Embody all presences outlaw'd casino spil for party 2013 or suffering, See myself in prison shaped like another man, And feel the dull unintermitted pain.
Hurrah for positive science!
23 Endless unfolding of words of ages!
All I mark as my own you shall offset it with your own, Else it were time lost listening.
I am sorry for you, they are not murderous or jealous upon me, All has been gentle with me, I keep no account with lamentation, (What have I to do with lamentation?) I am an acme of things accomplish'd, and I an encloser of things.
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.I take part, I see and hear the whole, The cries, curses, roar, the plaudits for well-aim'd shots, The ambulanza slowly passing trailing its red drip, Workmen searching after damages, making indispensable repairs, The fall of grenades through the rent roof, the fan-shaped explosion, The.Smile O voluptuous cool-breath'd earth!Behold, I do not give lectures or a little charity, When I give I give myself.Breast that presses against other breasts it shall be you!Toward twelve there in the beams of the moon they surrender.Through me many long dumb voices, Voices of the interminable generations of prisoners and slaves, Voices of the diseas'd and despairing and of thieves and dwarfs, Voices of cycles of preparation and accretion, And of the threads that connect the stars, and of wombs and.