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In all people I see essex area team an myself, none more and not one a barley-corn less, And the good or bad I say of myself I say of them.
I will accept nothing which all cannot have their counterpart of on the same terms.
Easily written loose-finger'd chords-I feel the thrum of your climax and close.If our colors are struck and the fighting done?The sharp-hoof'd moose of the north, the cat on the house-sill, the chickadee, the prairie-dog, The litter of the grunting sow as they tug at her teats, The brood of the turkey-hen and she with her half-spread wings, I see in them and myself the.44 It is time to traumfrau gesucht 3 staffel explain myself-let us stand.Earth of the vitreous pour of the full moon just tinged with blue!And I say to mankind, Be not curious about God, For I who am curious about each am not curious about God, (No array of terms can say how suche Sexualstraftäter washington state much I am at peace about God and about death.) I hear and behold God.Any requests for publication in other venues must be negotiated separately with the authors.The authors of poetry and other material appearing on DayPoems retain full rights to their work.Man or woman, I might tell how I like you, but cannot, And might tell what it is in me and what it is in you, but cannot, And might tell that pining I have, that pulse of my nights and days.Again the long roll of the drummers, Again the attacking cannon, mortars, Again to my listening ears the cannon responsive.The suicide sprawls on the bloody floor of the bedroom, I witness the corpse with its dabbled hair, I note where the pistol has fallen.(This day I am jetting the stuff of far more arrogant republics.) To any one dying, thither I speed and twist the knob of the door.And to those whose war-vessels sank in the sea!I beat and pound for the dead, I blow through my embouchures my loudest and gayest for them.Hang your whole weight upon.The beards of the young men glisten'd with wet, it ran from their long hair, Little streams pass'd all over their bodies.Unscrew the doors themselves from their jambs!From the cinder-strew'd threshold I follow their movements, The lithe sheer of their waists plays even with their massive arms, Overhand the hammers swing, overhand so slow, overhand so sure, They do not hasten, each man hits in his place.All forces have been steadily employ'd to complete and delight me, Now on this spot I stand with my robust soul.





The Yankee clipper is under her sky-sails, she cuts the sparkle and scud, My eyes settle the land, I bend at her prow or shout joyously from the deck.

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