“If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.”
― Leaves of Grass
― Leaves of Grass
“I have just realized that the stakes are myself
I have no other
ransom money, nothing to break or barter but my life”
―
I have no other
ransom money, nothing to break or barter but my life”
―
“My life had stood--a Loaded Gun--
In Corners--till a Day
The Owner passed--identified--
And carried Me away--
And now We roam in Sovereign Woods--
And now We hunt the Doe--
And every time I speak for Him--
The Mountains straight reply--
And do I smile, such cordial light
Upon the Valley glow--
It is as a Vesuvian face
Had let its pleasure through--
And when at Night--Our good Day done--
I guard My Master's Head--
'Tis better than the Eider-Duck's
Deep Pillow--to have shared--
To foe of His--I'm deadly foe--
None stir the second time--
On whom I lay a Yellow Eye--
Or an emphatic Thumb--
Though I than He--may longer live
He longer must--than I--
For I have but the power to kill,
Without--the power to die--”
―
In Corners--till a Day
The Owner passed--identified--
And carried Me away--
And now We roam in Sovereign Woods--
And now We hunt the Doe--
And every time I speak for Him--
The Mountains straight reply--
And do I smile, such cordial light
Upon the Valley glow--
It is as a Vesuvian face
Had let its pleasure through--
And when at Night--Our good Day done--
I guard My Master's Head--
'Tis better than the Eider-Duck's
Deep Pillow--to have shared--
To foe of His--I'm deadly foe--
None stir the second time--
On whom I lay a Yellow Eye--
Or an emphatic Thumb--
Though I than He--may longer live
He longer must--than I--
For I have but the power to kill,
Without--the power to die--”
―
“I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runway sun, I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love. If you want me again look for me under your boot soles. You will hardly know who I am or what I mean. Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged, missing me one place search another, I stop somewhere waiting for you”
― Song of Myself
― Song of Myself
“I don't do anything with my life except romanticize and decay with indecision.”
― The Book of Martyrdom and Artifice: First Journals and Poems, 1937-1952
― The Book of Martyrdom and Artifice: First Journals and Poems, 1937-1952
Trevor’s 2025 Year in Books
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