my 79 year old english teacher just came out to me as bisexual and i am so aghast i can’t tell anyone bc i don’t wanna out him but i NEED TO TALK ABOUT THIS
i was talking about dead poets society and walt whitman and then he just says “you know i had a gay lover when i was younger and we drove across europe together on the back of a motorcycle” EXCUSE ME??????????
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Walt Whitman, leaves of grass
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I am larger, better than I thought; I did not know I held so much goodness.
Walt Whitman; Leaves of Grass
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favourite poems of april
daniel nyikos potato soup
mary oliver when death comes
walt whitman leaves of grass: “whoever you are holding me now in hand”
kazim ali refuge temple
d.a. powell republic
toi derricotte natural birth: “november”
cathy song the age of reptiles
dante émile sharing a cigarette with joan of arc
rigoberto gonzalez other fugitives and other strangers: “the strangers who find me in the woods”
mary oliver new and selected poems: “the summer day”
d.a. powell chronic: “continental divide”
kahlil gibran the seven selves
franz wright night walk
mary oliver the black snake
martha collins day unto day: “over time”
ada limón the bird knows he is going to die and wishes not to (recommended to me by @craigslistening <33)
aish (@sapientes) rubin’s vase
tom pickard nectarine
alicia ostriker song
d.a. powell the expiration date on the world is not quite the same as the expiration date on my prophylactic
james dickey the whole motion: collected poems 1945-1992: “the strength of fields”
everett owens strength from a mountain
denise levertov o taste and see: new poems: “the secret”
david st. john the place that inhabits us: “peach fires”
robinson jeffers their beauty has more meaning
thomas centolella almost human: “the hope i know”
elizabeth willis address: “in strength sweetness
amiri baraka s o s: poems 1961-2013: “tender arrivals”
mary oliver the black walnut tree
stephen spender new collected poems: “song”
support me
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“Low hangs the moon, it rose late, it is lagging—O I think it is heavy with love, with love.”
Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking by Walt Whitman
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In the dooryard fronting an old farm-house near the white-wash’d palings, stands the lilac-bush tall-growing with heart-shaped leaves of rich green, with many a pointed blossom rising delicate, with the perfume strong I love, with every leaf a miracle—and from this bush in the dooryard, with delicate-color’d blossoms and heart-shaped leaves of rich green, a sprig with its flower I break.
Walt Whitman, from "When Lilacs Last in The Dooryard Bloom'd" in Leaves of Grass
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Man finds himself on the earth whether he likes it or not, with nowhere else to go. What then is to become of him? Obviously we can't stand still or we shall be destroyed. Then if there is no room for us on the outside we shall, in spite of ourselves, have to go in: into the cell, the atom, the poetic line, for our discoveries. We have to break the old apart to make room for ourselves, whatever may be our tragedy and however we may fear it.
William Carlos Williams, in his introduction to Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass
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We Two, How Long We Were Fool’d
Leaves of Grass (1891-92)
—Walt Whitman
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I am larger, better than I thought; I did not know I held so much goodness.
Walt Whitman; Leaves of Grass
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