I beat and pound for the dead, I blow through my embouchures my loudest and gayest for them.
I accept Reality and dare not question it, Materialism first and last imbuing.I am he attesting sympathy, (Shall I make my list of things in the house and skip the house that supports them?) I am not the poet of goodness only, I do not decline to be the poet of wickedness also.Creeds and schools in abeyance, Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten, I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard, Nature without check with original energy.And now it seems to me primul kontakt seksuel video the beautiful uncut hair of graves.Gentlemen, to you the first honors always!The disdain and calmness of martyrs, The mother of old, condemn'd for a witch, burnt with dry wood, her children gazing on, The hounded slave that flags in the race, leans by the fence, blowing, cover'd with sweat, The twinges that sting like needles his.12 The butcher-boy puts off his killing-clothes, or sharpens his knife at the stall in the market, I loiter enjoying his repartee and his shuffle and break-down.7 Has any one supposed it lucky to be born?
Askers embody themselves lokale sex partner i harlingen, texas in me and I am embodied in them, I project my hat, sit shame-faced, and beg.
(Only what proves itself to every man and woman is sex i wien bog so, Only what nobody denies.) A minute and a drop of me settle my brain, I believe the soggy clods shall become lovers and lamps, And a compend of compends is the meat.
20 Who goes there?Be at peace bloody flukes of doubters and sullen mopers, I take my place among you as much as among any, The past is the push of you, me, all, precisely the same, And what is yet untried and afterward is for you, me, all.I resist any thing better than my own diversity, Breathe the air but leave plenty after me, And am not stuck up, and am in my place.Something it swings on more than the earth I swing on, To it the creation is the friend whose embracing awakes.I am the poet of the woman the same as the man, And I say it is as great to be a woman as to be a man, And I say there is nothing greater than the mother of men.30 All truths wait in all things, They neither hasten their own delivery nor resist it, They do not need the obstetric forceps of the surgeon, The insignificant is as big to me as any, (What is less or more than a touch?) Logic and.Who has done his day's work?
Look in my face while I snuff the sidle of evening, (Talk honestly, no one else hears you, and I stay only a minute longer.) Do I contradict myself?
Now I laugh content, for I hear the voice of my little captain, We have not struck, he composedly cries, we have just begun our part of the fighting.
39 The friendly and flowing savage, who is he?