Beautiful dripping fragments — the negligent list of one after another, as I happen to call them to me, or think of them, The real poems, (what we ca… - Walt Whitman

Dazzling and tremendous how quick the sunrise
would kill me,
If I could not now and always send sunrise out of
me.
We also ascend dazzling and tremendous as the sun,
We found our own my soul in the calm and cool of
the daybreak.
My voice goes after what my eyes cannot reach,
With the twirl of my tongue I encompass worlds and
volumes of
worlds.
Speech is the twin of my vision.... it is unequal to
measure itself.
It provokes me forever,
It says sarcastically, Walt, you understand
enough.... why don’t
you let it out then?
Come now I will not be tantalized.... you conceive
too much of articulation.
Do you not know how the buds beneath are folded?
Waiting in gloom protected by frost,
The dirt receding before my prophetical screams,
I underlying causes to balance them at last,
My knowledge my live parts.... it keeping tally with
the
meaning of things,
Happiness.... which whoever hears me let him or
her set out in
search of this day.

In the faces of men and women I see God.

from the pulling and hauling stands what I am, Stands amused, complacent, compassionating, idle, unitary, Looks down, is erect, or bends an arm on an impalpable certain rest, Looking with side-curved head curious what will come next, Both in and out of the game and watching and wondering at it. Backward I see in my own days where I sweated through fog with linguists and contenders, I have no mockings or arguments, I witness and wait.