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The smoke of my own breath, Echoes, ripples, buzz'd whispers, love-root, silk-thread, crotch and vine, My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the passing of blood and air through my lungs, The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore.
Speech is the twin of my vision, it is unequal to measure itself, It provokes me forever, it says sarcastically, Walt you contain enough, why don't you let it out then?
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.
Is he waiting for civilization, or past it and mastering it?15 The pure contralto sings in the organ loft, The carpenter dresses his plank, the tongue of his foreplane whistles its wild ascending lisp, The married and unmarried children ride home to their Thanksgiving dinner, The pilot seizes the king-pin, he heaves down with.I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runaway sun, I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags.I open my scuttle at night and see the far-sprinkled systems, And all I see multiplied as high as I can cipher edge but the rim of the farther systems.See ever so far, there is limitless space outside of that, Count ever so much, there is limitless time around that.Vapors lighting and shading my face it shall be you!I am satisfied-I see, dance, laugh, sing; As the hugging and loving bed-fellow sleeps at my side through the night, and withdraws at the peep of the day with stealthy tread, Leaving me baskets cover'd with white towels swelling the house with their plenty, Shall.I hear the chorus, it is a grand opera, Ah this indeed is music-this suits.I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die, and I know.
The beards of the young men glisten'd with wet, it ran from their long hair, Little streams pass'd all over their bodies.
Still nodding night-mad naked summer night.
Apart from the pulling and hauling stands what I am, slot machine trucchi mighty miner 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.
Easily written loose-finger'd chords-I feel the thrum of your climax and close.
Whatever goes to the tilth of me it shall be you!We also ascend dazzling and tremendous as the sun, We found our own O my soul in the calm and cool of the daybreak.Did you guess the celestial laws are yet to be work'd over and rectified?I know perfectly well my own egotism, Know my omnivorous lines and must not write any less, And would fetch you whoever you are flush with myself.14 The wild gander leads his flock through the cool night, Ya-honk he says, and sounds it down to me like an invitation, The pert may suppose it meaningless, but I listening close, Find its purpose and place up there toward the wintry sky.My voice goes after what my eyes cannot reach, With the twirl of my tongue I encompass worlds and volumes of worlds.49 And as to you Death, and you bitter hug of mortality, it is idle to try to alarm.Hurrah for positive science!