photograph by SHVETS production via Pexels
I seize the descending man and raise him with resistless will,
O despairer, here is my neck,
By God, you shall not go down! hang your whole weight upon me.
— “Song Of Myself”
photograph by Brina Blum via Unsplash
A NOISELESS patient spider,
I mark’d where on a little promontory it stood isolated,
Mark’d how to explore the vacant vast surrounding,
It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself,
Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.And you O my soul where you stand,
Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to
connect them,
Till the bridge you will need be form’d, till the ductile anchor
hold,
Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.
— Leaves of Grass
Educational Screen And AudioVisual Guide, 1959
I SING the body electric,
The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them,
They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them,
And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the
soul.
— Leaves of Grass
Doug Cronk, “Supervalu Supermarket…” (1952)
What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I walked down the sidestreets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon.
In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went into the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations!
Allen Ginsberg, A Supermarket in California (excerpt)
The Clash – “Lost in the Supermarket“
Wilhelm von Gloeden, Man (ca. 1900)
Unscrew the locks from the doors!
Unscrew the doors themselves from their jambs!
–Whitman, Song Of Myself
cf. Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division, “Landscape with dirt road and stone wall” (ca. 1900)
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass…
—Whitman, Song Of Myself
Know’st thou the excellent joys of youth?
Joys of the dear companions and of the merry word and laughing
face?
Joy of the glad light-beaming day, joy of the wide-breath’d games?
Joy of sweet music…
—Walt Whitman, A Song Of Joys
“Camerado, this is no book,
Who touches this touches a man…”
–Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass
Person to person and man to man,
I’m back in touch with my long lost friend…
cf. Edward Steichen, On the house-boat–“The Log Cabin” (1908)
A show of the summer softness—a contact of something unseen
—an amour of the light and air,
I am jealous and overwhelm’d with friendliness,
And will go gallivant with the light and air myself.
—Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass
Prelinger Archives, “Roads to Romance: 1949”
Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road.
—Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass
Just as you feel when you look on the river and sky, so I felt…
–Walt Whitman, Crossing Brooklyn Ferry
John Sapiro 