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Eighteen

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Eighteen

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today is Walt Whitman's 199th birthday. he was born in 1819. He is a profound poet, still at the forefront of poetic consciousness today. I thought it would be apt to post this on GGD because he was also LGBTQ and he was pretty (though everyone of all orientations can appreciate him, but a lot of ppl are huntys here so i mention it for that reason :selena:). his book of poetry is called leaves of grass.

in the poem below, it's about walt whitman asking the reader, what do you think he should write about? the terrific battle ship sailing out to sea? the grandeur of the city around him? he answers, no! he'll write about something much smaller, but perhaps just as or even more profound: two friends he saw saying goodbye to each other on the pier :)

 

What Think You I Take My Pen In Hand?

What think you I take my pen in hand to record?

The battle ship, perfect-model'd, majestic, that I saw pass

    the offing today under full sail?

The splendors of the past day? or the splendor of the

    night that envelops me?

Or the vaunted glory and growth of the great city spread

    around me?--no;

But merely of two simple men I saw today on the pier in

    the midst of the crowd, parting the parting of dear friends,

The one to remain hung on the other's neck and passionately

    kiss'd him,

While the one to depart tightly prest the one to remain in his arms. 

 

Spoiler

this next poem is about a man catching a glimpse through some crack (in a door maybe) of a bunch of people in a bar, and walt whitman is seated in the corner of it and the man approaches him and sits down, and even among the chaos and noise and hustle and bustle around the two men, they are nonetheless encapsulated and sealed off in their own world where everything is gone but them two, simply enjoying each others silent company, saying nothing, exchanging something unsaid between each other. 

 

A glimpse

A glimpse through an interstice caught, 

Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room around the stove late of a winter night, and I

    unremark’d seated in a corner, 

Of a youth who loves me and whom I love, silently approaching and seating himself near, that

    he may hold me by the hand, 

A long while amid the noises of coming and going, of drinking and oath and smutty jest, 

There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, perhaps not a word. 

 

 

 

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Eighteen

uh idk if i posted this in the right place? if it's the wrong one, please move it :laughga:

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ferretti

It's crazy and sad how accurate 'A glimpse' is to this day for so many LGBTQ+ people.

Happy 199th, yah old hunty.

PS. I plan to live to 199, probably as a gay cyborg. Kickstarter coming in 30 years.

disco stick tester, inquire within
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ItsTommyBitch

A king :applause:

Song of myself, I sing the body electric, etc. are wonderful as well 

私自身もこの世の中も誰もかれもが, どんなに華やかな人生でも, どんなに悲惨な人生でも, いつかは変貌し, 破壊され、消滅してしまう. すべてがもともとこの世に存在しない一瞬の幻想なのだから
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Eighteen
52 minutes ago, ItsTommyBitch said:

A king :applause:

Song of myself, I sing the body electric, etc. are wonderful as well 

i think my absolute favorite is crossing  brooklyn ferry. i have to go back and reread them sometime it's been a long time :D

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  • 2 weeks later...

I found my anthology of his works when I was cleaning out my room this past week <3  he's honestly my favorite of the three big transcendentalist writers.

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