EyeamWaltWhiteman

EyeamWaltWhiteman


This is closer to the tribute then the paroday

eye have intended both to coincide with

JOhns* thrust into the online lieberry

of this vast subjected poet.*Walt Whitman.

*John (Jesus)Crisis Burroughs of Cleveland

this poem is for you OH sir.

Once more upon mye time.

For ewe.

For Megan.

For John.

“A Dialogue.”

"Better than to prostrate under her foot, better than to prostrate under her smile,

Better than to dream to sleep to lust for her in heat, better than to sleep to die still wanting her is sweet."

But you can't expect to attain the highest eros at one bound from the depths of Philistia from the depths of no pain found. You can't do better for the present than to come in and stretch your energetic self on the other half of the window seat she sits so close and smiles. Isn't it delicious? Isn't fantasy so funn. What better apology for idler? Here is where we learn. Here you can breath the air and look at the fresh grass mowed in Elyrias yard, while you read a poet and cut a lecture to the central corp. He tells you how in another country,perhaps New Mexico, he felt what you are feeling now,no doubt as he watched the Lady smile so big she smiles. that is the best part of the pleasure, to know that love is only human, and that all men have had it in common, from Adam down on eve.

"Go on, my theoritic poet friend , let Megan learn,

by GOD let Megan pen."

But what makes you think the essence poetry distils can't be extracted from every object as her smile is not extracted from her mouth she has to place it there she has to want to smile? Why should one thing leave its type in the world of ideas, and not another even more similar to love! Trust me, beauty is everywhere, if we only had the genius to see it while you OH sir have photograped her smile. If a man has the ability to make us feel the fitness, the necessity, the beauty of common things,the love in my heart is now displayed there there where eye can see it on her face; he is a poet of the highest type. If some objects seem to you poetic rather than others, if ewe can be apostrophised and Gerry is unmentionable, it's because habit makes it easier to idealize them while Megan reigns. This beauty has been pointed out so often that we know it by heart eye have no problem picking her out of the crowd. But what merit is to repeat the old tricks, and hum the old tunes as eye play the old devil and smile? You add nothing to the beauty of the world eye see without a frown. You see no new vision unless you look close upon her face. You are the author of nothing but several million poems in this race, but merely an apprentice in the poetic guild is small CharlaX, a little poet sucking the honey from Megans lipps with which great poets have sweetened words. You are inspired by tradition and judged by convention of your peers tell me your famous. Yet this very convention must have been inspired at first by Cleveland. The real objects about a man must have impressed him and he must have found his camera tripod fit to communicate his impression of my holy love. These words in that way became poetic, because her poetry is in her face and smile and afterwards any man who used them was an artist needing love.

"I do not call the ewe unworthy because she is still the mother shippe and something else,

And the GIrlfriend in the schools ever studies the gamut, yet trills pretty well to me

And the look of the other females shames stillness out of me."

I stand and look at them long and long.

They do not sweat and whine about their condition,

They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,

They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God,

Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things,

Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago,

Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth."

Except eye CharlaX and Jesus Crisis and Walt Whiteman.

*smile its finished now*