Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?
Very well then I gamle kvinder, sex date contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.) I concentrate toward them that are nigh, I wait on the door-slab.
My brain it shall be your occult convolutions!Evil propels me and reform of evil propels me, I stand indifferent, My gait is no fault-finder's or rejecter's gait, I moisten the roots of all that has grown.Broad muscular fields, branches of live oak, loving lounger in my winding paths, it shall be you!Not words of routine this song of mine, But abruptly to question, to leap beyond yet nearer bring; This printed and bound book-but the printer and the printing-office boy?I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men and women, And the hints about old men and mothers, and the offspring taken soon out of their laps.She owns the fine house by the rise of the bank, She hides handsome and richly drest aft the blinds of the window.I tramp a perpetual journey, (come listen all!) My signs are a rain-proof coat, good shoes, and a staff cut from the woods, No friend of mine takes his ease in my chair, I have no chair, no church, no philosophy, I lead no man.The authors of poetry and other material appearing on DayPoems retain full rights to their work.Long live exact demonstration!This is the press of a bashful hand, this the float and odor of hair, This the touch of my lips to yours, this the murmur of yearning, This the far-off depth and height reflecting my own face, This the thoughtful merge of myself, and.
The blab of the pave, tires of carts, sluff of boot-soles, talk of the promenaders, The heavy omnibus, the driver with his interrogating thumb, the clank of the shod horses on the granite floor, The snow-sleighs, clinking, shouted jokes, pelts of snow-balls, The hurrahs for.Perhaps I might tell more.Is he waiting for civilization, or past it and mastering it?All forces have been steadily employ'd to complete and delight me, Now on this spot I stand with my robust soul.Will you speak before I am gone?Quivering me to a new identity, Flames and ether making a rush for my veins, Treacherous tip of me reaching and crowding to help them, My flesh and blood playing out lightning to strike what is hardly different from myself, On all sides prurient provokers.