To a Stranger
PASSING stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you, You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me, as of a dream,) I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you, All is recall’d as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured, You grew up with me, were a boy with me, or a girl with me, I ate with you, and slept with you—your body has...
Publish my name and hang up my picture as that of the tenderest lover, The...– Walt Whitman, “Recorders Ages Hence”
Backward I see in my own days where I sweated through fog with linguists and...– Walt Whitman
But we know that poetry makes things happen. In the long run, look at the...– Philip Levine, from an interview with The Atlantic. April 8, 1999. (via bookoasis)
I love the dark hours of my being in which my senses drop into the deep. I...– Rainer Maria Rilke, from A Book for the Hours in Prayer, trans. Robert Bly (via proustitute)