Walt Whitman

A community portal about Walt Whitman with blogs, videos, and photos. According to Wikipedia.org: Walter Whitman was an American Romantic poet, essayist, journalist, and humanist. Proclaimed the "greatest of all American poets" by many foreign observers a mere four years after his death, his works have been translated into more than 25 languages. Whitman is among the most influential and controversial poets in the American canon. His work has been described as a "rude shock" and "the most audacious and debatable contribution yet made to American literature." He largely abandoned the metrical structures of European poetry for an expansionist freestyle verse—"irregular" but "beautifully rhythmic"— which represented his philosophical view that America was destined to reinvent the world as emancipator and liberator of the human spirit. As Whitman wrote in Leaves of Grass, "Rhymes and rhymers pass away—... America justifies itself, give it time..."

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In a little house.... Walt Whitman

Written by Barbara on

From: torristravels.blogspot.com

A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of

books. ~Walt Whitman

My Picture-Gallery
Walt Whitman
IN a little house keep I pictures suspended,
it is not a fix’d house,

It is round,
it is only a few inches from one side to the other;

Yet behold, it has room for all the shows of the world,
all memories?

Here the tableau's of life,
and here the groupings of death;

Here, do you know this? this is cicerone himself,

With finger rais’d he points to the prodigal pictures.

1880

*Note: Cicerone is an old term for a guide, one who conducts visitors and sightseers to museums, galleries, etc.,

In the summer I am reminded often of summers past. Today I began to think about the flowers in my grandmother and mothers gardens. I was reminded of the Oleander that Grandmother Seaburg planted by her back door step and probably watered with the dish water after she was finished cleaning up meals. She decorated this bush at Christmastime because there were no other trees to decorate. I inherited a love for flowers and even when we are in the desert I gather them around me.

b

IN a little house keep I pictures suspended, it is not a fix’d house,
It is round, it is only a few inches from one side to the other;
Yet behold, it has room for all the shows of the world, all memories?
Here the tableau's of life, and here the groupings of death;
Here, do you know this? this is cicerone himself,
With finger rais’d he points to the prodigal pictures.

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