"Turn O Libertad"

"Then turn, and be not alarm'd O Libertad--turn your undying face, / To where the future, greater than all the past, / Is swiftly, surely preparing for you."

I love it when Whitman talks to the future. I get this same feeling in the last lines of this poem. Clearly, the war IS over, and Whitman is marking this turning point as a pivotal moment in history. Liberty means alot to WW. She stands tall and proud--reigning over her kingdom. He spent the entire war tending to the wounded and writing poems. He lived in poverty in order to do these things. Why? Did he think he was going to have his big moment when all was said and done? That finally he would be recognized, and when he was recognized, people would see his humanity for ALL war victims? I'd like to believe in the good of Whitman, but I feel like he may have had an angle he was working the entire time he was playing nurse. Don't get me wrong, he did a good thing, a great thing, but when all was said and done, where did this leave Whitman, the man?  Perhaps I have become too cynical, but in looking back at previous poems and how Whitman's life has gone, he CHOSE his own path, and he always did so for his own reasons. 

I'll tell you something though, I think Whitman was handsome man and his photographs have a kind spirit about them. Even in his 60s he looked like a trustworthy soul. He reminds me of The Man from Snowy River - the guy with the pegged leg--the one who was looking for the mother load! I think Whitman was looking for the mother load too. Maybe not so much money, but prestige.

"Spirit Whose Work Is Done"

"Spirit of many a solemn day and many a savage scene---electric spirit. / That with muttering voice through the war now closed, like a tireless phantom flitted."

I am trying to decide if Whitman is speaking about the spirit of war or the spirit of patriotism. I'm not sure, though it seems that the war itself is at an end. At the end of this poem Whitman says, "Let them identify you to the future in these songs." I get the distinct feeling that WW is trying to say that this "spirit" will return in the future and that we should remember what happened here, in his time. 

"Leave me your pulses of rage--bequeath them to me --fill me with currents convulsive / Let them scorch  and blister out of my chants when you are gone." Perhaps the spirit WW refers to has more to do with the soldiers returning home. How did the soldiers feel when the war was over? Was there a feeling of triumph or was it simply bittersweet. Fighting amongst ourselves had to be heartbreaking...

Whitman was said to have visited over 100,000 wounded men through the war. He sat at bedsides, he brought gifts, he wrote letters, he held hands, he kissed cheeks....He found a purpose in listening and being there for the wounded. I would think that this would have created a "spirit" and maybe that feeling is what WW alludes to in this poem. If I were lying in hospital bed, dying or not, I might be angry at my circumstances. 

Whitman wrote the Drum-Taps poems to be a separate book for the public. I believe he was trying to tell the story of the war, from beginning to end. In this poem, it seems we're near the finish. The "electric spirit" could have been the anger at so much time lost. How do you let go of the emotions of war just because someone decided the war was over? I think that was what WW was trying to do here, get folks to let go of their emotions.

 

"How Solemn as One by One"

Well, I do believe I may have the "Nome Crud." Sore throat, stuffy nose, and now my ears are hurting, so this will probably be a short post. Yes, I am going for the sympathy vote!


"I see behind each mask that wonder a kindred soul / O the bullet could never kill what you really are, dear friend / Nor the bayonet stab what you really are / The soul! yourself I see, great as any, good as the best"

I like Whitman's idea that my soul will remain no matter what happens to my body. I would like to think that my spirit will watch over those I love, when my time comes - I guess I'd like to be a guardian angel. Whitman held different beliefs than mine, but he still had some great ideas. Whitman looked at things very scientifically. He had a reason for his beliefs. Sometimes I think you just have to believe blindly, you know--in faith. 

I think in this poem, he was sort of reconciling the senseless death of war with the knowledge that these soldiers who passed by him--one by one--would emerge triumphant, no matter their end. I think this was his way of helping them to know that in the end they would be ok. Going into battle, I wouldn't want to be afraid of death. I think that fear could take its grip and cause more trauma than the battle itself. 


I think this poem is an illustration of what Whitman once witnessed and his own feelings as he watched these brave young men file past him. I think of Whitman visiting the wounded, living in poverty so he could give to these men. I think it was finally with these soldiers that Whitman found a piece of the brotherhood that he so longed for.

 

"Give Me the Splendid Silent Sun"

"Give me to warble spontaneous songs recluse by myself, for my own ears only / Give me solitude, give me Nature, give me again O Nature your primal sanities!

I think it's easier to hide ourselves in the beauty of nature or the bustling streets of a city than it is to face things that hurt. I am trying to understand exactly what Whitman was getting out when he wrote this poem. In the opening line of section 1 he says, "Give me the splendid silent sun with all his beams full-dazzling." In the opening line of section 2 he says, "Keep your splendid silent sun." I can't help but think that Whitman is at war with himself. Is Whitman trying to choose between Nature and People? I imagine that living with nature is alot simpler than living with people. We make mistakes, we fight, we aggravate each other, we get sick, we die, we love, we hate. Nature makes more sense. I say that and I think of the natural disasters going on in the world right now. Nature can be just as turbulent and unpredictable as people, so what was Whitman getting at when he wrote this poem? I wish I could just ask him. I think as much as Whitman loved Nature, he loved people more. In his poetry he wanted to give a voice to the average people. This meant sacrificing himself in order to capture it all. 

He ended this poem saying, "Manhattan faces and eyes forever with me." What I'd like to say is that people are part of nature too. If Whitman was trying to choose a path, I don't think there was anything wrong with choosing both. You have to give something for yourself in order to give to everyone else. There needs to be a balance.

"The Wound-Dresser"

"But in silence, in dreams' projections, / While the world of gain and appearance and mirth goes on, / So soon what is over forgotten, and waves wash the imprints off the sand, / With hinged knees returning I enter the doors, / (While for you up there, / Whoever you are, follow without noise and be of strong heart."

My first thought is when when was that poem about footprints in the sand written? The poem that tells us that God walks with us, carrying us when times get tough. I am reminded of that poem when Whitman talks of the wave washing away the imprints of the sand. 

My second thought, as I try to think about Whitman's beliefs, is that he's talking to the unborn. He says, "In dreams projections" which to me is in the future. He realizes, as he tends the dying and the wounded, that someday, the ugliness of war would be forgotten. I think he is asking the unborn to bear witness to the tragedy of war. Sort of like, beware:  history repeats itself. I think the romantic democratic ideals of the poet have been altered in the face of death. I think he's become cynical and angry, but not for himself, for the loss of young lives. 

Drum-Taps is a hard section to study because of its sadness and focus on death. Up to this point, Whitman has seen death as the circle of life. He romanticized it. He talked of his body lying beneath booted souls, giving back to the earth. These poems see a different side of death.  I think I feel Whitman's anger, but sometimes it's hard to get the right tone.

Mostly I think I feel Whitman's grief.

What Would Buffy Do?

I have a headache. I'm burnt out. I'm tired. I have these moments when I wonder why I keep doing this---higher learning; seeking more work when I already have enough to do. Being a huge fan of BtVS, I find myself looking at the writing of Joss Whedon to inspire me. I always come back to this speech, given in Season 7: 

Buffy: I'm beyond tired. I'm beyond scared. I'm standing on the mouth of hell, and it is gonna swallow me whole. And it'll choke on me. We're not ready? They're not ready. They think we're gonna wait for the end to come, like we always do. I'm done waiting. They want an apocalypse? Oh, we'll give 'em one. Anyone else who wants to run, do it now. 'Cause we just became an army. We just declared war. From now on, we won't just face our worst fears, we will seek them out. We will find them, and cut out their hearts one by one, until The First shows itself for what it really is. And I'll kill it myself. There is only one thing on this earth more powerful than evil, and that's us. Any questions?

You might be wondering what this has to do with Whitman. Well, I'll tell you. I think Whitman was strong and determined, and that's how I want to be. I want to surge forward, not afraid to make my stand. I want to seek out what I am afraid of and win. Whitman tried to do this in his poetry. He got sidetracked by personal issues - we all do. People question my educational choices all the time. They tell me it's silly, too expensive, too stressful. They question the end result of this path I've chosen. I wonder how many people poo poo'd Whitman every time he put out a new edition of Leaves of Grass. The more important question, for me, is who stood by him? I hope I gain the answers to these questions. For the moment, I continue to ask myself, "What would Buffy do?" and then I pick myself up and continue forward. 

"As Toilsome I Wander'd Virginia's Woods"

I've been reading a few more poems in the Drum-Taps section, specifically, "Vigil Strange I Kept on the Field One Night," "A March in the Ranks Hard-Prest, and the Road Unknown," "A Sight in Camp in the Daybreak Gray and Din," and "As Toilsome I Wander'd Virginia's Woods." All of these poems make me sad, except the last really touches my heart. It's not that it's not sad, because it is sad, I think it's because Whitman reminds me how deeply things affect us. In this poem he sets the scene in Autumn, listening to the rustling leaves. The speaker of the poem has quickly marked the grave of a soldier at the base of a tree. He scrawls the words, "Bold, cautious, true, and my loving comrade." Then the poem moves forward to another time and place, he says:

"Many a changeful season to follow, and many a scene of life, / Yet at times through changeful season and scene, abrupt, alone, or in the crowded street, / Comes before me the unknown soldier's grave, comes the inscription rude in Virginia's woods, / Bold, cautious, true, and my loving comrade." 

This moment follows the soldier around forever and hits him at any given moment. I think Whitman was struck by the emotion of the situation. He wrote with such detail, I feel like I am standing near the tree watching everything unfold. Both soldiers have become a tragedy of war. 

War is a tough subject to write about. It's sad, destructive, and ugly. There is always a romantic ideal: democracy, love, or some other reasoning. As I read these poems I feel it must have been difficult for Whitman to write about the sadness. It must have had a staggering emotional toll. I wonder what kept him going? Was it sheer madness or willpower?

"Come Up from the Fields Father"

This is a sad poem about loss. It amazes me that Whitman can write about something over 100 years ago and yet it can apply to the present. This poem is about a letter coming from a son who has been in the war. It's that moment in every parent's life when they fill with dread of the loss of their loved one. 

Whitman begins by setting the scene. He captures the old-time farm scene with grace and dignity. He says, "Above all, lo, the sky so calm, so transparent after the rain and with wondrous clouds / Below too, all calm, all vital and beautiful, and the farm prospers well." This is like the calm before the storm. As the poem moves forward, mother and father come together to read the letter and find that it's not in their son's handwriting. 

"O a strange hand writes for our dear son, O stricken mother's soul / All swims before her eyes, flashes with black, she catches the main words only / Sentences broken, gunshot wound in the breast, cavalry skirmish, taken to hospital / At present low, but will soon be better."

I find it interesting the way Whitman draws attention to the letter by italicizing the words. It is easy to hear the change in speaker when he uses the italics as a literary device. As the reader, you also get a sense of the mother only connecting with certain words on the page. The poem goes on to tell us the son has passed away, and the final verse is about the mother's grief. I cannot even begin to imagine how a parent feels when losing a child, but I think Whitman did a fantastic job in capturing grief and how it continues long after a life is lost. This poem reminds me of Whitman's honesty to detail. He wanted people to understand the price that is paid for war. He loved America and the ideals that she was born with, but he also understood the ugliness of war, and at least he tried to be honest about it.

As Whitman published many volumes of Leaves of Grass, I think it's fascinating to watch him go through different stages in his life. His legacy really shows his growth and at some point I imagine we will see his decline. I find myself thinking about the grass all too often and it makes me miss home. Sometimes I wonder if Whitman was trying to conjure up memories of home when he titled this book - his legacy.

So Much History

I've been reading several more of Whitman's poems in the Drum-Taps section. I am struck by the details that Whitman saw fit to write about. There is so much history in each of these poems. Today, those I've read seem to be pre-war. In "Rise O Days from Your Fathomless Deeps" it seems that WW was trying to draw a parallel between the enormous violent nature of nature and that of democracy. In WW's mind the two are a force to be reckoned with. In fact this poem seems to follow a time-line of how nature helped WW grow and then democracy fed his soul. I am not sure what that feels like, having something consume you your entire life, to be that passionate and strong-willed. I feel frivolous compared to WWs passion for poetry. He wrote with such purpose and I have to wonder what kept him going. He didn't get much appreciation from those around him, it seems he just knew this was his calling and he tried to write with honesty and integrity.

He says, "Thunder on! stride on, Democracy! strike with vengeful stroke! / And do you rise higher than ever yet O days, O cities! / Crash heavier, heavier yet O storms! you have done me good, / My soul prepared in the mountains aborbs your immortal strong nutriment."

These are such strong words as he watched America in her civil unrest. I think of the thunder that he writes about as a symbol of the drum-taps. I see the young faces as they march for a greater cause. I wonder what did Whitman feel when he saw all of this unfold, was he truly enamored of democracy or did watching the deaths of the innocent cause him to have ill feelings about his ideals, I don't know. I would imagine he was torn in two - glorified in the power of an army, yet a small scared boy as he watched the dying and wounded return from each battle. 

In "Cavalry Crossing a Ford" it is easy for me to see that Whitman was struck by the power of united men. He captures this moment of a long line of soldiers crossing through the water. He references the musical clank which adds sound to a serene picture planted in my mind. He says, "A line in long array where they wind betwixt green islands / They take a serpentine course, their arms flash in the sun--hark to the musical clank." I get this same time of picture when I read "Bivouac on a Mountain Side." He says, "I see before me now a traveling army halting / Below a fertile valley spread, with barns and the orchards of summer." With Whitman, you don't just see the army, you see everything. I see the growth of nature, the smoke from campfires, and finally the stars. He paints such a vivid picture in my mind, he really was an excellent witness.

These poems are so different from the ones we've been reading. I feel that Whitman is becoming an adult. He does not seem obsessed with sex and the naked form. I think he saw patriotism in being a poet. I think in these days of war he matured immensely.

Drum-Taps

This week I will be looking at a section of poems titled Drum-Taps. These poems were published in the 4th Edition of Leaves of Grass. This was a time of war, the American Civil War to be exact, which took a great toll on Whitman.

As I begin my journey into these new poems I find myself pausing at "Song of the Banner at Daybreak."  I think it was bloody brilliant that Whitman broke this poem up into different voices: poet, banner, father, child-- back and forth they banter. I feel that his message was that the success of America wasn't about money and materiality but about our true spirit. It seems the poet is trying to find his place as American's bard and in the final lines, it hits him, 

"Out of reach, an idea only, yet furiously fought for, risking bloody death, loved by me / So loved -- O you banner leading the day with stars brought from the night / Valueless, object of eyes, over all and demanding all--(absolute owner of all)---O banner and pennant."

It seems to me that this is another of Whitman's moments as seer of the future. How could he have known that the site of the stars and stripes would continue to wave in glory today. I think it is a very interesting description that the American flag is absolute owner of all. I think of how we ALL stand and place our hands over our hears each time she waves before us. She has become a symbol of our freedom, and I think Whitman recognized this when he wrote this poem. 

I think it was also very honest of Whitman to capture the fear of Father for child. "Child of mine you fill me with anguish / To be that pennant would be too fearful / Little you know what it is this day, and after this day, forever, / Is it to gain nothing, but risk and defy every thing / Forward to stand in front of wars--and O, such wars!--what have you to do with them? / With passions of demons, slaughter, premature death?" 
It seems there is always a price to being American and my heart is with every family who has ever lost a loved one. Hopefully we fight for freedom and not the material things that are talked of in this poem. This poem would be a good reminder for folks today, who are taking a stand. The child in this poem is so full of honesty, knowing what is right, blind to politics.

The banner says, "We, even we, henceforth flaunt out masterful, high up above, / Not for the present alone, for a thousand years chanting through you / This song to the soul of one poor little child." I wish Americans could see how selfish we've become. Though each time I read one of Whitman's poems, I feel that we've always been selfish. There will always be those who are greedy and push to fight for the wrong reasons. "Out of reach, an idea only..." We need to remember what it means to be a citizen of the United States of America. The true spirit of America resides within each and every one of us--- men and women having been giving their lives for our freedom and the freedom of others since the birth of our great Nation. I am humbled by those who have fought for me. 

Whitman's Soul

Today I'd like to revisit the moment when Whitman captured my attention. I was nearing the end of "Song of Myself" which is one of the longest poems I've ever read - there were parts that seemed to drag on and there were parts that I didn't agree with. I went through my own emotional roller coaster as I tried to figure out what Whitman actually wanted in life. Finally, I came to the final lines and recognized a romantic inside Whitman, much like myself.

"I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love / If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles / You will hardly know who I am or what I mean / But I shall be good health to you nevertheless / And filter and fibre your blood / Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged / Missing me one place search another / I stop somewhere waiting for you."

I think those are some of the most romantic words ever written. I feel a kinship to Whitman, I feel that he truly wanted to be the best influence and voice to the American people. He had high hopes & dreams, and he tried very hard to use his poetry as a conduit to reach deep inside us. I've read a lot of his poems since January, when I first read those beautiful lines in "Song of Myself." There have been poems in between that I have fallen in love with, but I haven't felt his spirit, like I do here. Now, after reading "So Long" I feel like I have that connection back. He says,

"I have press'd through in my own right / I have sung the body and the soul, war and peace have I sung, and the songs of life and death / And the songs of birth, and shown that there are many births / I have offer'd my style to every one, I have journey'd with confident step; / While my pleasure is yet at the full I whisper So long! / And take the young woman's hand and the young man's hand for the last time." ..."Dear friend whoever you are take this kiss / I give it especially to you, do not forget me / I feel like one who has done work for the day to retire awhile, / I receive now again of my many translations, from my avataras ascending, while others doubtless await me / An unknown sphere more real that I dream'd, more direct, darts awakening rays about me, So long!"

He is speaking to us, to you and I. He is addressing us because we are his legacy. We will interpret his poetry and pass it forward. We will become his voice as we wish for a better America. He knew that a day would come and America would be bigger and better than everywhere else. He had high hopes for us, but he had fears as well. He saw sickness in politics and between people who were selfishly caught up in their own lives. He saw war bring death and it changed him. It ripped him up inside much like it does to us today. He tried to stand up for the little people, to ask us not to be so judgmental. I find myself jumping to conclusions when truly, people deserve the benefit of the doubt.

Someday I will write a novel, and I will think back about all of the people who influenced me in life. Mostly, I will think of friends and family because they are a part of who I am, but I will think of Whitman and the beauty of his poetry, and I hope that the lines of my novel will paint a picture of my soul.

To My Readers

I'd like to give a shout out to my readers today! Seeing you all on the page with me helps me to write - I feel more connected -like I am not talking into outer-space! So, I thank you all and appreciate the support :)

Later today we will chat about "So Long" an amazing poem by Walt Whitman.

"Hours Continuing Long"

"Hours continuing long, sore and heavy-hearted / Hours of the dusk, when I withdraw to a lonesome and unfrequented spot, seating myself, leaning my face in my hands."

There is nothing more sad and depressing than Whitman at this moment. Someone told me once, "Get over it, spank your inner moppet and get over it." I wish I could shake Whitman - tell him not to waste time wallowing. The problem is too many people feed off the sadness and heavy-heartedness of others. Too many people are enthralled by Whitman's emotional roller-coaster. Sometimes I wonder if he was bi-polar/manic depressive - especially when he goes from high to low, to successful to self-destructive. I want to be inspired by him, but all I feel is the sadness emanating from his soul. He's broken, incomplete, tearing himself into pieces instead of standing united with himself. 1860 seems to be a time of depression for Whitman. These poems that he wrote don't sing with happiness or even that ego that is typical of his earlier poems. He is lost, unsure, and feeling dejected. Gloom. Torment. He needed help, he needed to be put back on the path. 

Some people says that pain can inspire the best writing. Whitman certainly wrote using emotion. The reader can't help but feel the pain and suffering as he sits dejected and alone. Are we sympathetic? I was the first time I read this poem, today, not so much. He says, "I am what I am," but the truth is, do any of us know who we are, what we'll feel tomorrow. We all run on our emotions, some more wildly than others. Whitman feels regret. How do you get rid of regret? I don't know that you can. Life is one day at a time, just as Whitman's poems seem to be one day at a time. 

"Long I Thought That Knowledge Alone Would Suffice"

It seems that in this poem Walt Whitman quits. He says, "I heed knowledge, and the grandeur of The States and the example of heroes, no more / I am indifferent to my own songs--I will go with him I love / It is to be enough for us that we are together --We never separate again."

Who is this man that Whitman speaks of? Was there really someone or was Whitman just trying to get our attention? I don't know. What I do know is that he didn't quit. He continued to write his poems, but in this moment of writing this particular poem, he felt sure enough that love or the idea of love was more important to him than being America's poet. I can understand his feelings, no one was paying him much attention, at least not positive attention. I also wonder if this could be a suicide note, but he didn't follow through? "We never separate again" are very strong words - almost like Romeo and Juliet.

I think Whitman needed to find balance. Life is too hard to focus solely on one aspect. His poetry is starting to read like he was a lost soul instead of a great poet who KNEW the answers or was at least willing to talk through the questions. Was Whitman becoming desperate in 1860? The American Civil War went from 1861 - 1865. Did Whitman lose the love of his life in the war? So many questions and not enough answers, the story of life :)

I don't think knowledge is enough, we need to experience life, not watch it. I think Whitman missed out on this part of life. He spent too much time recording and reflecting and maybe not enough time living, but who am I too judge? I love to sit on the couch and watch the world go by. I love to get lost in the fictional world of a novel and not think about reality. What legacy will I leave behind?  

"Who Is Now Reading This?"

I really enjoy this poem. Whitman looks to future readers wondering of their thoughts. He says, "May-be one is now reading this who knows some wrong-doing of my past life / Or may-be a stranger is reading this who has secretly loved me / Or may-be one who meets all my grand assumptions and egotisms with derision / Or may-be one who is puzzled at me." This poem reminds me just how human Whitman was. He had self-doubt, but he was honest about it, he says "As if I were not puzzled by myself!" I totally get this. I enjoy his honesty. I wonder what people think of my writing NOW, I can't imagine someone reading it 100 years from now. Will what's important today be important tomorrow? Is what was important yesterday important today? Is what we think about Whitman himself important today or is it his message that holds our attention? I think I am more interested in the man behind the poetry--that is I need to understand him before I can understand his message.

Whitman's thoughtfulness in writing a poem to future readers is wonderful. I guess it also shows the size of his ego - that their would be readers decades later-enthralled by him. I am always interested in the technique he uses - in this poem he begins almost every line with the word "Or" - it creates this repetition, but I like it. I read this poem aloud and it really makes me feel reflective. I wonder if I will be thought of after I am gone. I love his final line "Or as if it could cease transpiring from me until it must cease." It makes me think that we all tend to continue down the same path over and over again. We repeat mistakes, we wish we could control bad behavior--but we don't seem strong enough to stop. Is it only in death that we will cease wrong-doing? I don't have the answer to that, and though Whitman tried to give us the answers of life after death, I don't think he was completely sure either.   

"As I Ebb'd with the Ocean of Life" & Others

I like how Whitman sees himself and the ocean as surging with life. "Held by this electric self out of the pride of which I utter poems / Was seized by the spirit that trails in the lines underfoot / The rim, the sediment that stands for all the water and all the land of the globe." Sediment is an important word here, a symbol for Earth. I think he's trying to be very scientific, yet he wants to meld the two. He wants the physical (earth) intertwined with the meta-physical (spirit). It's very important for Whitman to make these connections. It's part of his ideals. 

Life rolls this way and that way, constantly moving, never standing still. This is a great parallel that Whitman draws from as he writes about the ebbing ocean. He references the people of the past, the folks who were shipwrecked. He talks of how we all share this beach, a feeling of timelessness. As their footsteps crossed this sand, so does his, and so could mine. When he states he too is a trail of drift and debris – I think he is talking about all his mishaps in life. He contains multitudes, but has he really told us anything? Who is the man behind the poet? I think he is afraid and unsure of himself. Did Whitman secretly wish for his father’s approval? "I throw myself upon your breast my father / I cling to you so that you cannot unloose me / I hold you so firm till you answer me something." It's as if Whitman were afraid that if he didn't hold on tight that his father would simply brush him off--or perhaps he wanted his father to answer for his mistakes with their family. His dad was a working class guy with issues of alcoholism. I am sure they had a strained relationship at times. 

In "The World Below the Brine" Whitman embraces the underwater power of nature. "Forests at the bottom of the sea, the branches and leaves / Sea-lettuce, vast lichens strange flowers and seeds, the thick tangle, openings, and pink turf." He gives us this great description (including vivid color in later lines) of underwater sea life and tells us that there is a whole world down there, separate from ours but still full of culture--he says, "Passions there, wars, pursuits, tribes, sight in those ocean-depths, breathing that thick-breasting air, as so many do." I think the message here is that it's important to see nature is present everywhere, and living organisms, just like humans, have a culture to follow and we shouldn't take it all for granted.

I am going to change my focus and talk about "A Hand Mirror." In this poem, Whitman asks us to take a stern look in the mirror. Do we like what we've become? "Lungs rotting away piecemeal, stomach sour and cankerous / Joints rheumatic, bowels clogged with abomination / Blood circulating dark and poisonous streams..." This is pretty powerful imagery and rooted somewhere in the descriptions is the cause of the downfall of the American people. Our great nation has become selfish, but I wonder if we were always selfish. Alcoholism seems like it was just as prevalent then as it is now. I am sure that sexual disease spread with no remedy as well. We were so excited to get away from the Mother country and have a society with no rules (thought that really didn't happen) but it was our attitude. Our poor choices led us to sickness and destruction. I think Whitman wrote this poem to wake everyone up - sort of like a reality check. We still need one today.

Nature

I was watching an old movie last night about a band. Toward the end of the movie, song lyrics started to stand out to me, "Like the raindrops touch the land, like the ocean hugs the sand, like the sun kisses the leaves....Like the wind talks to the trees, with a soft whispering breeze, Like the birds sing to be free..." As I sat on my couch, I started to think about Whitman and nature. Nature is such a powerful force. She has her own language, her own emotions, and her own desire for unpredictability. Whitman recognized this. I, however, take nature for granted. I need to start paying attention to the small details. I think it makes Whitman's writing sheer genius that he could capture nature in her purest moments. He recognized the value in observing nature and understanding how she operates. He realized that we are all a part of nature, whether we want to admit it or not. 

In "Song of Myself" Whitman says, "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."  Whitman watched, listened, and learned from everything he observed. He took the simplest things in life and gave them a voice. Whitman has taught me not to take the little things for granted. When I write, I tend to gloss over the details. I don't do it on purpose, I certainly see them in my mind. I just need to work on getting them onto paper.

Our lives are filled with clutter. We are surrounded by material items. We live in a world full of technology and gadgets. Life used to be much simpler, you could take a walk through a garden and that beauty was one of the finer things in life. Not anymore, now it's about who has what and how much. As I sit here looking at my messy desk, full of papers, magazines, textbooks, file folders, printer, etc - it's no wonder I've lost my link with nature - she doesn't seem to be a part of my world anymore. I walk outside rushing to the truck - I don't look around. I don't see or hear anything but my own whirlwind thoughts that are fussing at all the things I have to get done. I look ahead and think about retirement  --is that when I will have time to smell the fragrant flowers, to feel the texture of the sand? Whitman moves slow so he didn't miss anything. He wandered through town, the woods, or even the beach ALL throughout his life. He took the time to appreciate his surroundings. I am envious. I need to make a change...my power of observation could be just as keen as his - if I would only use it.

Leaves of Grass is Whitman's legacy, a reminder to all of us that we need to embrace life.

"I Heard You Solemn-Sweet Pipes of the Organ"

This poem is incredibly short compared to other Whitman poems. I like that he talks about music in a material sense and then goes on to talk about the music between two bodies. He begins, "I heard you solemn-sweet pipes of the organ as last Sunday morn I pass'd the church." As I read this, I can't help but think of myself hearing the deep, soul searching music that comes from an organ. An organ vibrates with life, filling the listener with its sounds and pulse. An organ can shake a persons core. Toward the end, he says, "Heart of my love! you too I heard murmuring low through one of the wrists around my head." Here you have two bodies intertwined - one could hear the others heart beat and feel the rhythmic pulse that thuds and thuds, races and slows. 

This poem is also a part of Children of Adam, so I think Whitman was trying to set the scene by first arriving in front of the church - a holy place of worship. The reader feels good about hearing the sounds of the organ, then we move on to two bodies. I think Whitman wanted the connection of church and physical love. He's once again encouraging his belief that if we could just get back to that "pure" state--there would be happiness.

Music creates a connection for many people. I love music--all different types. I would find the vibrating hum of an organ fascinating.  I think there is a truth to music, and I think there is also a truth to the music between two people. Our feelings guide us in our endeavors. A song playing on the radio makes us stop and think back to some moment in time. Music creates connections. Whitman's music is timeless. He seems to stay steadfast and true to his beliefs, which I find commendable. What was fascinating over 100 years ago, is still fascinating today. He might not get the shock factor he did back then, but he still has our attention and that is what is most important.

"Spontaneous Me" & "One Hour to Madness and Joy"

"The loving day, the mounting sun, the friend I am happy with, The arm of my friend hanging idly over my shoulder, The hillside whiten'd with blossoms of the mountain ash, The same late in autumn, the hues of red, yellow, drab, purple, and light and dark green,"

"Spontaneous Me" is full of sexual innuendo, lust, procreation, and taking what we want, but there is another aspect here that Whitman surfaces when he begins....details. I think there is always a story in the details. Whitman glorifies nature as he paints a vivid picture for the reader to see. How can you (the reader) have negative thoughts of spontaneity when you read about the beauty that surrounds this poem. I am enveloped by bold, bright color. I see the sun above the sky--shining brightly. I can't take Whitman to task for his obsession with sex because he has surrounded it in the beauty of nature. I think this was definitely done on purpose. "Spontaneous Me" is amongst a collection of poems he created called Children of Adam. The setting of this poem makes me think back to the Garden of Eden - the beauty, the simple life, nature and man embracing each other. Whitman wanted us to return to a time without shame. I think this has to do with his belief in democracy--equality and unity. If mankind could get back to their roots then maybe, just maybe we could live up to Whitman's expectations. 

"The consequent meanness of me should I skulk or find myself indecent, while birds and animals never once skulk or find themselves indecent."  Animals are spontaneous. Nature is spontaneous. I think Whitman had moments when he didn't want to deal with the consequences of his actions. He wanted to be free of any psychological burden. I think Whitman was jealous/envious of nature's freedom. He wraps his beliefs up in a pretty little package, but really he wants permission to be impulsive. In "One Hour to Madness and Joy," Whitman says, "To feed the remainder of life with one hour of fulness and freedom! With one brief hour of madness and joy." If you could be spontaneous for one hour, would it be enough to tide you over for the rest of your life? Whitman wanted this chance to step out of his role as responsible brother/businessman/son - he wanted the chance to give into his more basic desires. He wanted to be himself - for one hour, without shame. 

An hour wouldn't be enough for me. I wouldn't want to spend my life looking back at 60 minutes, wishing for a life I couldn't have. "To have the feeling to-day or any day I am sufficient as I am." He didn't feel he was enough. He contained multitudes, he sung the songs of American patriotism, he gave a voice to Americans, he had an ego the size of Alaska, yet he didn't think he was enough. With one brief hour of madness and joy wasn't going to fix him. He wanted the bonds of brotherhood because he wanted someone to talk to, he wanted someone to share his innermost soul with. This is what's in the story, lost in the details. "The arm of the friend hanging idly over my shoulder..." He wanted understanding, as we all do. I hope he received it before the end.

"From Pent-up Aching Rivers"

“(Hark close and still what I now whisper to you/I love you, O You entirely possess me/O that you and I escape from the rest and go utterly off, free and lawless/Two hawks in the air, two fishes swimming in the sea not more lawless than we)"

I think people as a whole feel stifled and are just waiting for someone to come along and inspire them. Whitman was good at this. He speaks directly to the reader, making them feel as if they are his entire universe. He does this in a very sensual way, by using language such as "whisper" - You can't help but feel his breathe on your ear as he talks softly to you-  making promises for the future. 

"From Pent-up Aching Rivers" is about giving in to your urges and not being afraid of who you are. We tend to mask ourselves in society, afraid of what people will think or what they might be saying when our backs are turned. Whitman wants to free the reader from the chains of society. He wants us to give in to our more basic instincts. Some of us are much more successful at letting go. Whitman himself is obsessed with the beauty of the human form and procreation. In his world it is all about sex. Considering we're talking over one-hundred years ago, I don't think much has changed.

Whitman says, "Seeking something yet unfound though I have diligently sought it many a long year." What are we all looking for - happiness, love, success, and mostly someone to share our thoughts and dreams with. Whitman plays the part of the heroic lover - making promises, swearing oaths - "O I willingly stake all for you." What does this kind of adoration and obsession really feel like? How many of us have had relationships where you felt you were the center of someone else's world? Did he give everything he had to his poems? Was he lonely?

Words pour from his soul and we have bathed ourselves in them for over one-hundred years. Whitman speaks directly to our hearts - urging us to not be afraid of who we are. We may live in a society where freedom is supposed to ring, but we aren't free. We live by society's rules, just as he did. We may have the freedom to make choices, and we certainly have more choices to make, but there are still limits and constraints. What would Whitman think of our progress?