As I Walk These Broad, Majestic Days
AS I walk these broad, majestic days of peace,
(For the war, the struggle of blood finish'd, wherein, O terrific
Ideal!
Against vast odds, having gloriously won,
Now thou stridest on--yet perhaps in time toward denser wars,
Perhaps to engage in time in still more dreadful contests, dangers,
Longer campaigns and crises, labors beyond all others;
--As I walk solitary, unattended,
Around me I hear that eclat of the world--politics, produce,
The announcements of recognized things--science,
The approved growth of cities, and the spread of inventions. 10
I see the ships, (they will last a few years,)
The vast factories, with their foremen and workmen,
And here the indorsement of all, and do not object to it.
But I too announce solid things;
Science, ships, politics, cities, factories, are not nothing--I watch
them,
Like a grand procession, to music of distant bugles, pouring,
triumphantly moving--and grander heaving in sight;
They stand for realities--all is as it should be.
Then my realities;
What else is so real as mine?
Libertad, and the divine average--Freedom to every slave on the face
of the earth, 20
The rapt promises and luminé of seers--the spiritual world--these
centuries lasting songs,
And our visions, the visions of poets, the most solid announcements
of any.
For we support all, fuse all,
After the rest is done and gone, we remain;
There is no final reliance but upon us;
Democracy rests finally upon us (I, my brethren, begin it,)
And our visions sweep through eternity.
poem by Walt Whitman
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Related quotes
Apostroph
O MATER! O fils!
O brood continental!
O flowers of the prairies!
O space boundless! O hum of mighty products!
O you teeming cities! O so invincible, turbulent, proud!
O race of the future! O women!
O fathers! O you men of passion and the storm!
O native power only! O beauty!
O yourself! O God! O divine average!
O you bearded roughs! O bards! O all those slumberers! 10
O arouse! the dawn bird's throat sounds shrill! Do you not hear the
cock crowing?
O, as I walk'd the beach, I heard the mournful notes foreboding a
tempest--the low, oft-repeated shriek of the diver, the long-
lived loon;
O I heard, and yet hear, angry thunder;--O you sailors! O ships! make
quick preparation!
O from his masterful sweep, the warning cry of the eagle!
(Give way there, all! It is useless! Give up your spoils;)
O sarcasms! Propositions! (O if the whole world should prove indeed a
sham, a sell!)
O I believe there is nothing real but America and freedom!
O to sternly reject all except Democracy!
O imperator! O who dare confront you and me?
O to promulgate our own! O to build for that which builds for
mankind! 20
O feuillage! O North! O the slope drained by the Mexican sea!
O all, all inseparable--ages, ages, ages!
O a curse on him that would dissever this Union for any reason
whatever!
O climates, labors! O good and evil! O death!
O you strong with iron and wood! O Personality!
O the village or place which has the greatest man or woman! even if
it be only a few ragged huts;
O the city where women walk in public processions in the streets, the
same as the men;
O a wan and terrible emblem, by me adopted!
O shapes arising! shapes of the future centuries!
O muscle and pluck forever for me! 30
O workmen and workwomen forever for me!
O farmers and sailors! O drivers of horses forever for me!
O I will make the new bardic list of trades and tools!
O you coarse and wilful! I love you!
O South! O longings for my dear home! O soft and sunny airs!
O pensive! O I must return where the palm grows and the mocking-bird
sings, or else I die!
O equality! O organic compacts! I am come to be your born poet!
O whirl, contest, sounding and resounding! I am your poet, because I
am part of you;
O days by-gone! Enthusiasts! Antecedents!
O vast preparations for These States! O years! 40
O what is now being sent forward thousands of years to come!
O mediums! O to teach! to convey the invisible faith!
To promulge real things! to journey through all The States!
O creation! O to-day! O laws! O unmitigated adoration!
O for mightier broods of orators, artists, and singers!
O for native songs! carpenter's, boatman's, ploughman's songs!
shoemaker's songs!
O haughtiest growth of time! O free and extatic!
O what I, here, preparing, warble for!
O you hastening light! O the sun of the world will ascend, dazzling,
and take his height--and you too will ascend;
O so amazing and so broad! up there resplendent, darting and
burning; 50
O prophetic! O vision staggered with weight of light! with pouring
glories!
O copious! O hitherto unequalled!
O Libertad! O compact! O union impossible to dissever!
O my Soul! O lips becoming tremulous, powerless!
O centuries, centuries yet ahead!
O voices of greater orators! I pause--I listen for you
O you States! Cities! defiant of all outside authority! I spring at
once into your arms! you I most love!
O you grand Presidentiads! I wait for you!
New history! New heroes! I project you!
Visions of poets! only you really last! O sweep on! sweep on! 60
O Death! O you striding there! O I cannot yet!
O heights! O infinitely too swift and dizzy yet!
O purged lumine! you threaten me more than I can stand!
O present! I return while yet I may to you!
O poets to come, I depend upon you!
poem by Walt Whitman
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O Sun Of Real Peace
O SUN of real peace! O hastening light!
O free and extatic! O what I here, preparing, warble for!
O the sun of the world will ascend, dazzling, and take his height--
and you too, O my Ideal, will surely ascend!
O so amazing and broad--up there resplendent, darting and burning!
O vision prophetic, stagger'd with weight of light! with pouring
glories!
O lips of my soul, already becoming powerless!
O ample and grand Presidentiads! Now the war, the war is over!
New history! new heroes! I project you!
Visions of poets! only you really last! sweep on! sweep on!
O heights too swift and dizzy yet! 10
O purged and luminous! you threaten me more than I can stand!
(I must not venture--the ground under my feet menaces me--it will not
support me:
O future too immense,)--O present, I return, while yet I may, to you.
poem by Walt Whitman
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Eye sea visions
Eye sea visions
Turning into shadow
Disappearing with the dark nights,
Eye sea visions
Walking in my dreams
Pushing to join realities
Then eye fold my hands and wait.
Eye sea visions
Smiling in the face of the moon,
Smelling like flowers of the Seasons
Whispering a psalmist eulogy
Then, eye close my eyes and anticipate!
Eye sea visions
And eye feel irritated, as eye begin
To lament deceptions,
Intuition envelops me… as
Eye wonder the genuineness of this
Visions eye see.
©1997
poem by Akachukwu Chukwuemeka
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I Was Looking A Long While
I WAS looking a long while for a clue to the history of the past for
myself, and for these chants--and now I have found it;
It is not in those paged fables in the libraries, (them I neither
accept nor reject;)
It is no more in the legends than in all else;
It is in the present--it is this earth to-day;
It is in Democracy--(the purport and aim of all the past;)
It is the life of one man or one woman to-day--the average man of
to-day;
It is in languages, social customs, literatures, arts;
It is in the broad show of artificial things, ships, machinery,
politics, creeds, modern improvements, and the interchange of
nations,
All for the average man of to-day.
poem by Walt Whitman
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We Owe You Four Weeks of Bliss
Finally,
From where we sit...
Light has begun to filter in,
From once darkened windows.
'It is good to hear such good news!
It is terrific to see the Sun upon the horizon again.
Isn't it? '
You have no idea.
Since we began mailing...
The 'We Owe You Four Weeks of Bliss' announcements,
In dazzling colored brochures.
A few days ago?
Thousands have not bothered to show up,
To block out the natural light at street level.
Allowing us to determine how best to satisfy their needs.
And finding the atmosphere,
A little easier to breathe these days.
Even though the printing of the brochures,
Has not been cost effective.
'It is good to hear such good news!
It is terrific to see the Sun upon the horizon again.
Isn't it? '
Yes.
Since adopting this new sytem,
Everyone seems to be more encouraged.
More stimulated and patient,
To know we are doing the best we can...
To revive their visions of a brighter tomorrow.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If Wise Women Led Governments
If wise women led Governments it would seem to me
We would not hear of wars and less talk of poverty
For war would become extinct and poverty would be on the decrease
And we would be on our way to a lasting World peace,
The women in Governments play the games of men
To cause division for them is a sure way to win
Support for their power base by their spreading of fear
Of those seen to be different positive things from them we don't hear,
Though no shortage of wise women in the big world out there
Wise women in politics for to say the least rare
Perhaps only cynical women in politics can hope to survive
In a game where negativity and cynicism is very much alive
And if wise women led Governments there would not be wars and terrorism and less of poverty
And far more compassion and understanding that leads to harmony.
poem by Francis Duggan
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And They Obey
Smash down the cities.
Knock the walls to pieces.
Break the factories and cathedrals, warehouses
and homes
Into loose piles of stone and lumber and black
burnt wood:
You are the soldiers and we command you.
Build up the cities.
Set up the walls again.
Put together once more the factories and cathedrals,
warehouses and homes
Into buildings for life and labor:
You are workmen and citizens all: We
command you.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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World’s Clarion Call: Stop All Wars; Love Your Brethren!
Wars spread terror;
Wars cause horror;
Wars kill persons;
Wars maim people;
Wars pollute air;
Wars contaminate soil;
Wars destroy buildings;
Wars ravage cities;
Wars ruin countries;
Wars cause hatred;
Wars are expensive;
Wars escalate prices;
Wars create enemies;
Wars generate ill-will;
Wars instill mistrust;
Wars make the poor, poorer;
Wars make the world,
A difficult place to live in;
Don’t waste money on futile wars.
Love settles conflicts;
Love gets friends;
Love converts foes;
Love leads to dialogue;
Love spreads brotherhood;
Love brings lasting peace;
Love leads to progress;
Love is all-encompassing;
Love is the key to human problems;
Love rules the universe;
Love leads to heaven;
Stop the wars and love your brethren;
Science should improve man’s plight;
Unite against human calamities;
Fight diseases, poverty, and illiteracy;
Leaders should give up their ego;
The world should be free of fear;
Peaceful co-existence should bring all near;
Make the earth more habitable for all.
This is the world’s clarion call!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-30-2007
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: Whither Love Of Fellowmen?
The world is vast and yet has become small;
Our travel-time has dropped so markedly;
Tele-communication’s boon to all;
We tend to do both good and things deadly.
The world has shrunk and so have human hearts!
Their minds are selfish; Ego rules their acts;
Diseased is heart, mind, soul and body-parts;
Each human face is masked; disguised are facts.
Great things that Science affords are used to kill;
Destroyed are things in minutes, hours and days;
None care about the bill or effects ill;
In the same coin, his brethren, man repays.
Disaster threatens humankind and earth,
True love of fellowmen remains a dearth.
poem by John Celes
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Eidólons
I MET a Seer,
Passing the hues and objects of the world,
The fields of art and learning, pleasure, sense,
To glean Eidólons.
Put in thy chants, said he,
No more the puzzling hour, nor day--nor segments, parts, put in,
Put first before the rest, as light for all, and entrance-song of
all,
That of Eidólons.
Ever the dim beginning;
Ever the growth, the rounding of the circle; 10
Ever the summit, and the merge at last, (to surely start again,)
Eidólons! Eidólons!
Ever the mutable!
Ever materials, changing, crumbling, re-cohering;
Ever the ateliers, the factories divine,
Issuing Eidólons!
Lo! I or you!
Or woman, man, or State, known or unknown,
We seeming solid wealth, strength, beauty build,
But really build Eidólons. 20
The ostent evanescent;
The substance of an artist's mood, or savan's studies long,
Or warrior's, martyr's, hero's toils,
To fashion his Eidólon.
Of every human life,
(The units gather'd, posted--not a thought, emotion, deed, left out;)
The whole, or large or small, summ'd, added up,
In its Eidólon.
The old, old urge;
Based on the ancient pinnacles, lo! newer, higher pinnacles; 30
From Science and the Modern still impell'd,
The old, old urge, Eidólons.
The present, now and here,
America's busy, teeming, intricate whirl,
Of aggregate and segregate, for only thence releasing,
To-day's Eidólons.
These, with the past,
Of vanish'd lands--of all the reigns of kings across the sea,
Old conquerors, old campaigns, old sailors' voyages,
Joining Eidólons. 40
Densities, growth, façades,
Strata of mountains, soils, rocks, giant trees,
Far-born, far-dying, living long, to leave,
Eidólons everlasting.
Exaltè, rapt, extatic,
The visible but their womb of birth,
Of orbic tendencies to shape, and shape, and shape,
The mighty Earth-Eidólon.
All space, all time,
(The stars, the terrible perturbations of the suns, 50
Swelling, collapsing, ending--serving their longer, shorter use,)
Fill'd with Eidólons only.
The noiseless myriads!
The infinite oceans where the rivers empty!
The separate, countless free identities, like eyesight;
The true realities, Eidólons.
Not this the World,
Nor these the Universes--they the Universes,
Purport and end--ever the permanent life of life,
Eidólons, Eidólons. 60
Beyond thy lectures, learn'd professor,
Beyond thy telescope or spectroscope, observer keen--beyond all
mathematics,
Beyond the doctor's surgery, anatomy--beyond the chemist with his
chemistry,
The entities of entities, Eidólons.
Unfix'd, yet fix'd;
Ever shall be--ever have been, and are,
Sweeping the present to the infinite future,
Eidólons, Eidólons, Eidólons.
The prophet and the bard,
Shall yet maintain themselves--in higher stages yet, 70
Shall mediate to the Modern, to Democracy--interpret yet to them,
God, and Eidólons.
And thee, My Soul!
Joys, ceaseless exercises, exaltations!
Thy yearning amply fed at last, prepared to meet,
Thy mates, Eidólons.
Thy Body permanent,
The Body lurking there within thy Body,
The only purport of the Form thou art--the real I myself,
An image, an Eidólon. 80
Thy very songs, not in thy songs;
No special strains to sing--none for itself;
But from the whole resulting, rising at last and floating,
A round, full-orb'd Eidólon.
poem by Walt Whitman
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I was Looking A Long While
for too long i have been bruised
seeing democracy a wondrous diamond
crushed - by whatever means they could -
dented, and if they could, bend to their whims
under their heavy cloak of religion
plundering, killing, raping, in the name of an open world
the rights of which they draw their own lines
for too long i have been bruised
seeing democracy a wondrous first rate horse
kicked, beaten, cut out to serve the greediest of despots
for too long democracy has become
the most convenient way to lay abuse
when you have a country, power, greed
and a legion of devils who die to share your cake
democracy automatically becomes a dirty word
I was Looking A Long While
I WAS looking a long while for a clue to the history of the past for
myself, and for these chants-and now I have found it;
It is not in those paged fables in the libraries, (them I neither
accept nor reject ;)
It is no more in the legends than in all else;
It is in the present-it is this earth to-day;
It is in Democracy-(the purport and aim of all the past ;)
It is the life of one man or one woman to-day-the average man of
to-day;
It is in languages, social customs, literatures, arts;
It is in the broad show of artificial things, ships, machinery,
politics, creeds, modern improvements, and the interchange of
nations,
All for the average man of to-day.
Walt Whitman
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Turn To Gold
SHINE!
I don't know why
all the fiction of your sleeping
doesn't visit you awake
I don't know how to get your storybook sunrise
to follow you above your cloudy day
all these gifts you left on you
with heaven painted on you
i wish this now with all my soul
may all your visions turn to gold
to have and hold
may all your visions turn to gold
may all your visions turn to gold
to have and hold
may all your visions turn to gold
terrified the world will never turn to look at you
and the sun won't see you shine
she'll resign for rose cooked blush just from your smiling
let the water form a cry
only better luck should greet you
the road should rise to meet you
i wish this now with all i know
may all your visions turn to gold
to have and hold
may all your visions turn to gold
may all your visions turn to gold
to have and hold
may all your visions turn to gold
loose inside your winter
feel the cold wind blowing
cutting through your head and through your ears
feel the fire growing
no more frozen danger
no more wrteched ice storm fear
may all your visions turn to gold
to have and hold
may all your visions turn to gold
may all your visions turn to gold
to have and hold
may all your visions turn to gold
song performed by by Audioslave
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Science and Art; Man and God
With time, the Man of Science
When he has eminence,
Obeys his conscience,
Knowing God’s omnipotence.
As he becomes quite old,
The Science that ruled his world
Has transformed into Art!
When time ’tis to depart.
His past is now a dream;
The years like weeks now seem;
Within himself, he smiles,
For having lapped Life’s miles!
When old-age sets no doubt,
If he had won his bout,
His sense of achievement,
Goads him to betterment.
And now, he has the time,
And in his mind the clime,
In Science, now Art so keen,
To seek the God unseen!
The Science he had nurtured,
Looks so much now fractured;
Perhaps, like modern-sex,
It has become complex!
And now in his old-age,
He feels no doubt a sage;
Within his old heart’s page,
Has battle’s much to wage.
The Modern Science, he knows,
Has been perhaps in those
Seers centuries ago
Who had lesser ego!
Vexed, he furthers his Art,
To which he gives his heart!
And sees the God he sought,
All through his life so oft!
poem by John Celes
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A Solo Poets Society
Every one is highly possible to be a poet!
let's sing a song of John Lenon's 'Imagine'
A poet is a soloist who sings the song of freedom and equality
Which make the humanity condo of spacial independence
Who denies contemporary ego of socio-economic metaphors
Alone, not loneliness
No freudian repression and castration from pounded dimensions of life conditions
Solo poets society
An intellectual and aesthetic energy of the 21st century world order and chaotic representation dissolving into rummaging capability of truths, realities, wisdom and archeological and architectural visions.
This is a society of independent space and time transcending truths realities and actualities in quotidian life moments.
The Patriotic Indian
I’m proud to be an Indian:
I’m glad to a Christian;
I love my every fellowmen;
I prefer things just Indian.
So great is India’s heritage;
The world is thrilled by its image;
Our culture is so very good;
So are our spices and our food.
’Tis not well-developed, our nation;
Our democracy’s worth mention;
We are peace-loving citizens,
Hard-working with much common-sense.
We do not want any factions;
We want brotherhood of nations;
We love to have peaceful neighbors,
And hate declaring futile wars!
We have achieved so many things;
Our glory world-over still rings;
We have problems to face, fiscal;
We got our freedom by struggle.
India is our great motherland;
We have great faith in Maker’s Hand;
Our population is so vast;
United, we can hold it fast.
We pray to live in amity;
We do not want enmity;
We wish to spread peace everywhere;
We love to breathe our country’s air!
poem by John Celes
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Blessings Of Prophets Intended Rejected
Dream visions
receding not birthed into life
within this wall.
Dream visions
images messages blessings miracles
not realized in this world.
Dream visions
God’s blessings upon people all nations
sin cursed not confirmed.
Dream visions
from source to mind to scribe to word
world indifferent withheld denied denial.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Rock My World
Chorus:
Rock my world
Welcome to my visions
Rock my world
We gonna have a party
Rock my world
Now its time to start the show
So come on, rock my world
Chorus b:
Rock, rock my world
Rock, rock my world
Bridge:
So here we are, standing strong
Weve been inside the circus
Took the pleasure and pain
Its sometimes the same
I feel the power
So let the music move you
Rap 1:
Im back with my visions I know what to do
Lets rock the world cause this ones for you
Clap, scream, freak out and jam
Jump to the rhythm, shake that thang
We gonna have a party so here we go
Now lets get lose are you ready for the show
The countdown five, four, three, two, one
Rock my world I mean everyone
Rap 2:
Today is the day and were minutes away
Turn the lights down low cause its time to play
Okay here and now we gonna rock to the rhythm
Rock to the groove and rock my world
Stand up were about to start the show
Lets go with the flow in stere-ereo
I hear you screaming my heartbeat is rising
I give everything, let the party begin
Midpart:
Let the music take control now
Feel the passion of the night
This will be a night to remember
Here - now - we gonna have a party
song performed by by DJ Bobo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Australia's Federal Election 2007
November the twenty fourth is Australia's Election day the campaign for power begin
The winners govern for three years the prize is great to win
They have in them the lust for power they campaign for their own sake
The winners set to govern big egos are at stake.
Who wins or loses Government I can't say I much care
Since from the Election I don't stand to lose or gain of that much I'm aware
Big time politics can be a dirty game and smear politics is an in thing
On their opponents they rake the muck and their own praises they do sing.
Three right wing parties competing for power will not help those in poverty
A Nation without a Socialist Party seems a sad Nation to me
In a so called first World Country in big Cities homeless people on the street
Sleeping rough and searching rubbish bins for thrown out food to eat.
November the twenty fourth is Federal Election voting day and the days of cleanly fought campaigns is long gone
Twenty first century politics is a dirty game and the grab for power is on
The gap between the haves and the have nots is getting wider by the day
And whoever wins will not help the have nots and that seems sad to say.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Angels War
Forest of dark labyrinth hides
Sighs of twisted olive trees rise
Spanish dungeons filled with devils
She time travels into eternity
Her ragged doll filled with blood
Peasant mother killed by dark riders
Talk too spirits in the forest
Saints without decomposed bodies
Divine kings oppress the masses
Secular man shall shine like heaven
Spinoza, Kant, Hegel, Nietzsche, Marx
Revolutions burning with nihilism
We are the insane offspring of confusion
Welcome to causes to politics and sides
Horned creatures with mauve eyes
Dreams where fairies anoint hope
Mirrors that lead too oblivion
Mercantile visions where fire dances
Starfish red as Jupiter’s angels
Rest in symbols under the glaciers
Run for placid pools of azure innocents
Purple passion fights yellow dwarfs
Sunken ships where ghosts swim
Islands of umbilical incest of non-being
Captains as cruel as torture
Carry out orders of totalitarian worship
State religions with symbols of destiny
Crush the pirates of never never join leaders
Franco, Stalin, Hitler join the denizens
Progress of a perfect union
Utopian knights riding for a fall
Democracy brings capitalism
Freedom to be rich and oppress
Some prosper some get the boot
The third world is stepped on
Train national guards for corporations
Governments set up for profit and trade
Imperialism reigns and prospers
Puppet slave states of peasants
Hawaiian shirts amidst the scorpions
All governments of men are corrupt
We are invaded by strange evil
There is an element here not in the physical
The world is a spiritual place
The world is a battleground
I see a story of good verses evil
We are in the middle with choice
The Angels war
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Pass Away
Watch the world pass away,
As time does, day to day.
Nothing changing as lives move on.
Listen to the sounds the tears make,
As they fall because of everything at stake,
Keep in mind the pain that raises those tears from sorrows eye.
Remember the voices of the people past,
The things they did, the things they said, will always last.
Broken prescripts laying against the backdropp of damp Earth.
Wrap your arms around their ghost,
For to their spirit and memory we toast,
From goblets of their sweet, sour blood we drink.
Embrace their once unreal visions,
As they are now what form our own decisions,
For their dreamed fantasies have now become the future's reality.
Drape yourself in the blanket woven by those preceding,
Lay your head upon the bed, lay, your body bleeding,
Blood of your own deception, your blank and hidden naivety.
Let your silent cries flow like water in a river of truth,
Spread the knowledge of the pasts grief and strife's to the youth,
Teach them how the lives of people have been shaped, molded by tears.
Walk through life with your head held high,
Til one day you too will fade into history and ride to the sky,
Live through what others have provided, teach, learn, and live!
Kneel before the feet of fate,
Begin the future you will create,
Becoming one who came before, another soul of time.
Carry on the weight of people gone,
Move their sight from night to dawn,
Keep them alive with the strength you hold.
Watch the world pass away,
As time does, day to day,
And slowly watch, them fade to gray.
By: Bethany Jane Maxwell
April 5th,2011
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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