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Showing posts with label Walt Whitman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Walt Whitman. Show all posts

Saturday, September 28, 2019

A Leaf or a Star

I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars. - Walt Whitman
Even the smallest to the largest

In the 1850s, an American poet pulled away from standard poetry format and moved into his own poetry. It was a bold move, but then Walt Whitman was bold in so many ways.

His “free verse” was exactly that: free.  Whitman was strong in his beliefs that all people should read and understand the meanings that are embedded in the words.  The importance of the individual, whether it be a person or a blade of grass or a distant star, was central to his vision.

Walt Whitman fell under the extreme condemnation of his bi-sexuality.  Although Leaves of Grass was labeled to be almost pornographic and obscene, but that did not restrict its success. In a November 1885 review, it was suggested that Whitman was “guilty of the horrible sin not to be mentioned among Christians”.

This part of the popular opinions, Whitman had intense relationships with several women, and claimed he had six children. Whatever his sexuality, it cannot be criticized in current mores and rightly so. One cannot be defined by one element of life but taken as a whole.

Whitman’s most memorable poem will always be O Captain! My Captain, written after Lincoln’s assassination. He once said, after constant repetition,

"Damn My Captain...I'm almost sorry I ever wrote that poem."


So, hoist a glass to an individual who believed that people/leaves of grass/stars are unique, no matter how small or large or whatever.

From YouTube read by Tom O'Bedlam

Wednesday, September 2, 2015

Walt Whitman: A Song of Grass and Fields



Walt Whitman has been called “The Father of Free-Verse”, as a writer in the mid-1850s who was pulling away from traditional rhyming poetry.  So very talented, Whitman was a teacher, a government employee, journalist, and a volunteer nurse during the Civil War.

Walt Whitman was connected to the earth, the soil, and he wrote passionately about its beauty, as well as its cycles of life and death.  Toward the end of his life, he moved to Laurel Springs, New Jersey, which he called “the prettiest lake in: America or Europe.”

I took these photos in Bremgarten bie Bern, Switzerland, when I visited my new grandson (and his parents) in 2012.  The photos reminded me of Walt Whitman’s poetry.


One day....


...and then the next.

A song of the grass and fields!

A song of the soil, and the good green grass!

A song no more of the city streets,

A song of the soil of the fields.



A song with the smell of sun-dried hay, where the nimble pitchers
        
             handle the pitch-fork,

A song tasting of new wheat, and of fresh-husk’d maize.

Please notice the next field over is green and tasseled with stalks of corn.

This was posted in 2014, but I decided to bring out the dusty archives for today.




Monday, March 3, 2014

Song of the Soil: Walt Whitman



Walt Whitman has been called “The Father of Free-Verse”, as a writer in the mid-1850s who was pulling away from traditional rhyming poetry.  So very talented, Whitman was a teacher, a government employee, journalist, and a volunteer nurse during the Civil War.

Walt Whitman was connected to the earth, the soil, and he wrote passionately about its beauty, as well as its cycles of life and death.  Toward the end of his life, he moved to Laurel Springs, New Jersey, which he called “the prettiest lake in: America or Europe.”

I took these photos in Bremgarten bie Bern, Switzerland, when I visited my new grandson (and his parents) in 2012.  The photos reminded me of Walt Whitman’s poetry.


One day....


...and then the next.

A song of the grass and fields!

A song of the soil, and the good green grass!

A song no more of the city streets,

A song of the soil of the fields.



A song with the smell of sun-dried hay, where the nimble pitchers
        
             handle the pitch-fork,

A song tasting of new wheat, and of fresh-husk’d maize.

Please notice the next field over is green and tasseled with stalks of corn.