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I am the mash'd fireman with breast-bone broken, Tumbling walls buried me in their debris, Heat and smoke I inspired, I heard the yelling shouts of my comrades, I heard the distant click of their picks and shovels, They have clear'd the beams away, they. The beards of the young men glisten'd with wet, it ran from their long hair, Little streams pass'd all over their bodies. Having pried through the strata, analyzed to a

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hair, counsel'd with doctors and calculated close, I find no sweeter fat than sticks to my own bones. I dilate you with tremendous breath, I buoy you up, Every room of the house do I fill with an arm'd force, Lovers of me, bafflers of graves. Broad muscular fields, branches of live oak, loving lounger in my winding paths, it shall be you! There is no stoppage and never can be stoppage, If I, you, and the worlds, and all beneath or upon their surfaces, were this moment reduced back to a pallid float, it would not avail the long run, We should surely bring up again where.

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Apart from the pulling and hauling stands what I am, Stands amused, complacent, compassionating, idle, unitary, Looks down, is erect, or bends an arm on an impalpable certain rest, Looking with side-curved head curious what will come next, Both in and out of the game. (This day I am jetting the stuff of far more arrogant republics.) To any one dying, thither I speed and twist the knob of the door. Eleves, I salute you! The authors of poetry and other material appearing on DayPoems retain full rights to their work. Smile, for your lover comes. 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. None obey'd the command to kneel, Some made a mad and helpless rush, some stood stark and straight, A few fell at once, shot in the temple or heart, the living and dead lay together, The maim'd and mangled dug in the dirt, the new-comers. Of the turbid pool that lies in the autumn forest, Of the moon that descends the steeps of the soughing twilight, Toss, sparkles of day and dusk-toss on the black stems that decay in the muck, Toss to the moaning gibberish of the dry limbs. You are also asking me questions and I hear you, I answer that I cannot answer, you must find out for yourself. And what is life?




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Have you outstript the rest? 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. Your facts are useful, and yet they are not my dwelling, I but enter by them to an area of my dwelling. Long enough have you dream'd contemptible dreams, Now I wash the gum from your eyes, You must habit yourself to the dazzle of the light and of every moment of your life. And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves. Deep anal legetøj bachardy gay maleri info live oral huske sex show Luca æra homoseksuelle mp3 cute jap teen amatør Hjemmelavet homoseksuel mand røv sorte knepper teenagere gratis trailere af sort bøsseporno teenage porn nøgenbilleder Øst Europa bøsse porno. Be at peace bloody flukes of doubters and sullen mopers, I take my place among you as much as among any, The past is the push of you, me, all, precisely the same, And what is yet untried and afterward is for you, me, all. Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?