Nov 09, 2005 12:41
I have decided that every week I am going to include a poem in my journal that I really like hoping that you will like it too. To break the monotony of quizzes that have infected my journal as of late. Here's (only the last part sadly... it's quite long) one of my favorite poems ever. This one is one of the closest things I have found in writing to describe me.
Song of Myself - Walt Whitman
52
The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me, he complains of my gab
and my loitering.
I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable,
I sound my barbaric yawps over the roofs of the world.
The last scud of day holds back for me,
It flings my likeness after the rest and true as any on the shadow'd
wilds,
It coaxes me to the vapor and the dusk.
I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runaway sun,
I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags.
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.