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12 The butcher-boy puts off his killing-clothes, or sharpens his knife at the stall in the market, I reno spilleautomater youtube loiter enjoying his repartee and his shuffle and break-down.
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.Click here to learn more about how you can keep DayPoems on the Web.And proceed to fill my next fold of the future.Do you see O my brothers and sisters?I know I am solid and sound, To me the converging objects of the universe perpetually flow, All are written to me, and I must get what the writing means.26 Now I will do nothing but listen, To accrue what I hear into this song, to let sounds contribute toward.They are alive and well somewhere, The smallest sprout shows there is really no death, And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it, And ceas'd the moment life appear'd.Divine am I inside and out, and I make holy whatever I touch or am touch'd from, The scent of these arm-pits aroma finer than prayer, This head more than churches, bibles, and all the creeds.One of the pumps has been shot away, it is generally thought we are sinking.And as to you Corpse I think you are good manure, but that does not offend me, I smell the white roses sweet-scented and growing, I reach to the leafy lips, I reach to the polish'd breasts of melons.
Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord, A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt, Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we may see and remark, and say Whose?
Myself moving forward then and now and forever, Gathering and showing more always and with velocity, Infinite and omnigenous, and the like of these among them, Not too exclusive toward the reachers of my remembrancers, Picking out here one that I love, and now.




Now I see it is true, what I guess'd at, What I guess'd when I loaf'd on the grass, What I guess'd while I lay alone in my bed, And again as I walk'd the beach under the paling stars of the morning.What have you to confide to me?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.I speak the pass-word primeval, I give the sign of democracy, By God!I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.We closed with him, the yards entangled, the cannon touch'd, My captain lash'd fast with his own hands.You my rich blood!We also ascend dazzling and tremendous as the sun, We found our own O my soul in the calm and cool of the daybreak.23 Endless unfolding of words of ages!Down-hearted doubters dull and excluded, slot spil quest 2 Frivolous, sullen, moping, angry, affected, dishearten'd, atheistical, I know every one of you, I know the sea of torment, doubt, despair and unbelief.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.
I am there, I help, I came stretch'd atop of the load, I felt its soft jolts, one leg reclined on the other, I jump from the cross-beams and seize the clover and timothy, And roll head over heels and tangle my hair full.
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