Vox Populi
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Walt Whitman: I Hear America Singing
I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,
Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong,
The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam,
The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work,
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck,
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands,
The wood-cutter’s song, the ploughboy’s on his way in the morning, or at noon intermission or at sundown,
The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of the girl sewing or washing,
Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else,
The day what belongs to the day — at night the party of young fellows, robust, friendly,
Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs.
Public Domain
Walt Whitman, 1819 – 1892
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Oh, the stirring momentum of repetition! Your for Whitman.
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Walt is our benevolent daddy.
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Just love love love Whitman, generous, tumultuous life! He helped birth our America!
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Oh yes, he did.
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Vote as if your children’s lives depend on it because they do.
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My brother John Edward Simms says:
“Already voted early. I voted across the board against “All forms of Tyranny Over the Mind of Man.” – Thomas Jefferson
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His words still contain multitudes.
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Yes, they do. His generous spirit embraces us all.
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…and we poet are part of this singing — so let’s NOT be quiet!
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make good trouble, necessary trouble.
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Happy Election Day, everyone. Vote as if your life depends on it because it does.
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These songs are “carols”–like Christmas carols–of joy, of dignity, of meaningful work with purpose, of celebration after work is done for the day. Songs that unite a nation, that inspire us to vote for leaders who keep this spirit going.
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Yes indeed! Our “itinerant gladness scatterer!”
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He is our everything, our Dante, our Shakespeare, our Apostle and Jesus. He was alive in the darkest moments of our near demise and he spoke freely of our triumph only he could clearly see. When the millennium (and century) turned the question arose: who is our greatest Artist?
It always was and has been him.
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Sent from my iPhone
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