Read as a private message it works in roughly similar ways. Now the whistling is less playful and the barbed wire is overcrowded too. Corridor and hallway apparently refer to passageways between defined spaces, indoors or outdoors, figuratively connecting the unthought spaces of incarceration and the nominally free. The next lines read:. What keeps us captive?
Poems of Accord and Satisfaction by Jill Withrow Baker · denlotilili.gq
What would it mean to be free? The latter question finds no answers in poetry, but rather in the change of society. Poetry can make the present situation thinkable, in part by giving names to common forms of experience that otherwise go unremarked. Heaven Is All Goodbyes does this by drawing attention to the alienated forms of sociality presently available, while maintaining a tough commitment to the sociality of speech and, beneath that, language.
Recurrent references to cigarettes, labor, police, and prisons initially appear to be emblems of working-class solidarity, but those references operate alongside similarly prevalent references to unfinished or interrupted conversation and irregular irruptions of dialogue. Eisen-Martin blends prose and verse. Individual poems typically alternate staccato, clause-based lines, interpolated dialogue untagged , and tight enjambed stanzas positioned near page margins.
Altogether, they invoke the peculiar temporality of working-class life. Represented objects such as cigarettes alongside rhetorical tendencies to subordinate the sentence to the list, the litany, and other organizing forms of thought create little pockets for breath, little pockets of life within the suffocating texture of the unliving, moments best conceived as insolated seeds of time yearning for legibility as chronological progression, if not progress. Eschewing the singular voice or focalizing consciousness, the poetry instead features collectivities of different scales — the family, the neighborhood, the guild — drawing out the rhythmic feel of the attachments and common desires, not necessarily articulate, for alternative ways of living.
Put differently, these poems limn a speculative architecture of what common life could be. Come duly to the divine power to speak words! I see brains and lips closed, tympans and temples. Do you not see how it would serve to have such a body. The towering feminine of thee? The mothers fit for thee? Yearning for thee harmonious Union! From these your future song may rise with joyous trills, Destin'd to fill the world.
The Bourgeois and the Boulevard
Orient, You undertone of rivers, roar of pouring cataracts, You sounds from distant guns with galloping cavalry, Echoes of camps with all the different bugle-calls, Trooping tumultuous, filling the midnight late, bending. Hearest those shouts of a conquering army? The lowing cattle, bleating. Arabs, Again, at Eleusis, home of Ceres, I see the modern.
To you a new bard caroling in the West, Obeisant sends his love. Cathedral, Or, under the high roof of some colossal hall, the. Haydn, The Creation in billows of godhood laves me. Thee, Report myself once more to Thee. Thee, Light rare untellable, lighting the very light, Beyond all signs, descriptions, languages; For that O God, be it my latest word, here on my.
Or with your mother and sisters? These also flow onward to others, you and I flow onward, But in due time you and I shall take less interest in. To think there will still be farms, profits, crops, yet for. The trees have, rooted in the ground! And all preparation is for it—and identity is for it—. And those appear that are hateful to me and mock me. I do not doubt that wrecks at sea, no matter what the. Space, but I believe Heavenly Death provides for. When shows break up what but One's-Self is sure? A huge sob—a few bubbles—the white foam squirting. Are souls drown'd and destroy'd so? Is only matter triumphant?
By thee fact to be justified, blended with thought, Thought of man justified, blended with God, Through thy idea, lo, the immortal reality! Through thy reality, lo, the immortal idea! By vision, hand, conception, on the background of the.
I define thee, How can I pierce the impenetrable blank of the future? I feel thy ominous greatness evil as well as good, I watch thee advancing, absorbing the present, tran-. East, To thy immortal breasts, Mother of All, thy every. Freedom, Set in the sky of Law.
Spiritual World! The Present holds thee not— for such vast growth as. South, O'er Mississippi's endless course, o'er Texas' grassy. O quick mettle, rich blood, impulse and love! O all dear to me! O dear to me my birth-things—all moving things and. I coast up the Carolinas, I see where the live-oak is growing, I see where the. O longings irrepressible! O I will go back to old. City of hurried and sparkling waters!
How much of genius boldly staked and lost for it! What countless stores of beauty, love, ventur'd for it! How all superbest deeds since Time began are traceable. How all heroic martyrdoms to it!
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- Poems of Accord and Satisfaction;
How, justified by it, the horrors, evils, battles of the. How the bright fascinating lambent flames of it, in every. O I think it is I—I think. I know what it is to receive the passionate love of. I do not believe any one possesses a more perfect or. Illinois, Ohio's, Indiana's millions, comrades, farmers, soldiers, all. O hasten flag of man—O with sure and steady step,. I see Freedom, completely arm'd and victorious and very.
I see men marching and countermarching by swift. His daring foot is on land and sea everywhere, he. Are all nations communing? Is humanity forming en-masse? This incredible rush and heat, this strange ecstatic fever Your dreams O years, how they penetrate through me! I know not whether I sleep or wake; The perform'd America and Europe grow dim, retiring. My handsome tan-faced horsemen! Western States, or see freedom or spirituality, or. Aliaska, Of what the feuillage of America is the preparation for—.
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To be conscious of my body, so satisfied, so large! To be this incredible God I am! To have gone forth among other Gods, these men and. How the water sports and sings! Surely there is something more in each of the trees,. I take your strong chords, intersperse them, and cheer-. And little souvenirs of camps and soldiers, with my love, I bind together and bequeath in this bundle of songs.
O air and soil! O my dead, an. I sung, and the songs of life and death, And the songs of birth, and shown that there are many. I announce the great individual, fluid as Nature, chaste,. Is there a single final farewell? To Foreign Lands. To Thee Old Cause. One's-self I Sing. In Paths Untrodden. As I Ponder'd in Silence.