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Whimpering and truckling fold with powders for invalids, conformity goes to the fourth-remov'd, I wear my hat as I please indoors or out.21 I am the poet of the Body and I am the poet of the Soul, The pleasures of heaven are with me and the pains of hell are with me, The first I graft and increase upon myself, the latter I translate into new.I do not say these things for a dollar or to fill up the time while I wait for a boat, (It is you talking just as much as myself, I act as the tongue of you, Tied in your mouth, in mine it begins.I beat and pound for the dead, I blow through my embouchures my loudest and gayest for them.The earth by the sky staid with, the daily close of their junction, The heav'd challenge from the east realflow 2012 c4d r14 plugin that moment over my head, The mocking taunt, See then whether you shall be master!
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This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers, Darker than the colorless beards of old men, Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths.The smoke of my own breath, Echoes, ripples, buzz'd whispers, love-root, silk-thread, crotch and vine, My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the passing of blood and air through my lungs, The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore.Is he waiting for civilization, or past it and mastering it?Easily written loose-finger'd chords-I feel the thrum of your climax and close.The young men float on their backs, their white bellies bulge to the sun, they do not ask who seizes fast to them, They do not know who puffs and declines with pendant and bending arch, They do not think whom they souse with spray.8 The little one sleeps in its cradle, I lift the gauze and look a long time, and silently brush away flies with my hand.Would you learn who won by the light of the moon and stars?52 The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me, he complains of my gab and my loitering.That I could forget the trickling tears and the blows of the bludgeons and hammers!