Daily Whitman



  The Lord advances, and yet advances,
  Always the shadow in front, always the reach'd hand bringing up the

  Out of this face emerge banners and horses—O superb! I see what is coming,
  I see the high pioneer-caps, see staves of runners clearing the way,
  I hear victorious drums.

  This face is a life-boat,
  This is the face commanding and bearded, it asks no odds of the rest,
  This face is flavor'd fruit ready for eating,
  This face of a healthy honest boy is the programme of all good.

  These faces bear testimony slumbering or awake,
  They show their descent from the Master himself.

  Off the word I have spoken I except not one—red, white, black, are
      all deific,
  In each house is the ovum, it comes forth after a thousand years.

  Spots or cracks at the windows do not disturb me,
  Tall and sufficient stand behind and make signs to me,
  I read the promise and patiently wait.

  This is a full-grown lily's face,
  She speaks to the limber-hipp'd man near the garden pickets,
  Come here she blushingly cries, Come nigh to me limber-hipp'd man,
  Stand at my side till I lean as high as I can upon you,
  Fill me with albescent honey, bend down to me,
  Rub to me with your chafing beard, rub to my breast and shoulders.


Posted on 18/07/2015, in literature, poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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