Leaves of
A Collection of Poems by Walt Whitman
Annotated observations by Shauna Volkening
The dirtiest book of all is the expurgated book -Walt Whitman
Leaves of
A Collection of Poems by Walt Whitman
Annotated observations by Shauna Volkening
Leaves of
Poems by Walt Whitman
Annotations by Shauna Volkening
Minneapolis, MN
INK SCRIBBLE PUBLISHING 2017
Copyright Š 2017 by I All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Introduction......................................................................i Beginners.........................................................................1 To You.............................................................................2 I Sit and Look Out...........................................................3 My Picture-Gallery..........................................................4 Whoever You Are Now Holding Me in Hand.................5 Are You the New Person Drawn Toward Me?................7 A Prarie Sunset................................................................8 The Voice of the Rain......................................................9 To a Common Prostitute................................................10 That Shadow, My Likeness............................................11 Index................................................................................ii
Table of Contents
Simplicity is the glory of expression -Walt Whitman
Introduction When we were assigned this project, I was looking forward to read Walt Whitman’s poetry. The only one of his poems that I was actually familiar with was “O Captain! My Captain!” because I had to read it in high school and it is quoted by Robin Williams in one of my favorite films, The Dead Poet Society. I have enjoyed exploring Walt Whitman’s other works. He wrote about a broad range of topics during his time and I liked learning about his point of view on America, nature, and people. The annotations that I have written in this little book are the thoughts that came to my mind while I read these poems. A lot of them related to personal feelings I have about relationships and people in general. I hope you enjoy this mini collection of works by Walt Whitman. -Shauna
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How they are provided for upon the earth, (appearing at intervals,) How dear and dreadful they are to the earth, How they inure to themselves as much as to any what a paradox appears their age,
Beginners
How people respond to them, yet know them not, How there is something relentless in their fate all times, How all times mischoose the objects of their adulation and reward, And how the same inexorable price must still be paid for the same great purchase.
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I think it is amazing how we become beginners so many times in our lifetimes. You begin the day you are born. You begin again when you start school. Each new chapter in your life starts you over as a beginner.
Stranger, if you passing meet me and desire to speak to me, why should you not speak to me? And why should I not speak to you?
To You
I Sit and
I sit and look out upon all the sorrows of the world, and upon all oppression and shame, I hear secret convulsive sobs from young men at anguish with themselves, remorseful after deeds done, I see in low life the mother misused by her children, dying, neglected, gaunt, desperate, I see the wife misused by her husband, I see the treacherous seducer of young women, I mark the ranklings of jealousy and unrequited love attempted to be hid, I see these sights on the earth, I see the workings of battle, pestilence, tyranny, I see martyrs and prisoners, I observe a famine at sea, I observe the sailors casting lots who shall be kill'd to preserve the lives of the rest, I observe the slights and degradations cast by arrogant persons upon laborers, the poor, and upon negroes, and the like; All these—all the meanness and agony without end I sitting look out upon, See, hear, and am silent.
Look Out It is disheartening at times to think about all of the pain and suffering that is in the world. There are many great and catastrophic events that are going on right now; wars, terrorism, human trafficking, poverty, starvation. But there are a lot of seemingly smaller sorrows occurring every day as well. We mistreat those around us. We ignore the ones that need us most. Why is it so hard for us to stop and take a second to look around and truly see what is happening in our world? When are we going to realize that we all need to make that extra effort to care about someone other than ourselves?
My Picture-Gallery In a little house keep I pictures suspended, it is not a fix’d house, It is round, it is only a few inches from one side to the other; Yet behold, it has room for all the shows of the world, all memories! Here the tableaus of life, and here the groupings of death; Here, do you know this? this is cicerone himself, With finger rais’d he points to the prodigal pictures.
Pictures can carry a variety of memories. But what is going behind the smiles? I look at photos of myself that are around my house when I go home, and even though I smile, I remember how I truly felt in some of them. There is sadness there from what was going on during that time that the camera did not capture.
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Whoever You Are Holding Me Now in Hand Whoever you are holding me now in hand, Without one thing all will be useless, I give you fair warning before you attempt me further, I am not what you supposed, but far different. Who is he that would become my follower? Who would sign himself a candidate for my affections? The way is suspicious, the result uncertain, perhaps destructive, You would have to give up all else, I alone would expect to be your sole and exclusive standard, Your novitiate would even then be long and exhausting, The whole past theory of your life and all conformity to the lives around you would have to be abandon'd, Therefore release me now before troubling yourself any further, let go your hand from my shoulders, Put me down and depart on your way. Or else by stealth in some wood for trial, Or back of a rock in the open air, (For in any roof'd room of a house I emerge not, nor in company, And in libraries I lie as one dumb, a gawk, or unborn, or dead,) But just possibly with you on a high hill, first watching lest any person for miles around approach unawares, Or possibly with you sailing at sea, or on the beach of the sea or some quiet island, Here to put your lips upon mine I permit you, With the comrade's long-dwelling kiss or the new husband's kiss, For I am the new husband and I am the comrade.
Or if you will, thrusting me beneath your clothing, Where I may feel the throbs of your heart or rest upon your hip, Carry me when you go forth over land or sea; For thus merely touching you is enough, is best, And thus touching you would I silently sleep and be carried eternally. But these leaves conning you con at peril, For these leaves and me you will not understand, They will elude you at first and still more afterward, I will certainly elude you. Even while you should think you had unquestionably caught me, behold! Already you see I have escaped from you. For it is not for what I have put into it that I have written this book, Nor is it by reading it you will acquire it, Nor do those know me best who admire me and vauntingly praise me, Nor will the candidates for my love (unless at most a very few) prove victorious, Nor will my poems do good only, they will do just as much evil, perhaps more, For all is useless without that which you may guess at many times and not hit, that which I hinted at; Therefore release me and depart on your way.
Relationships are tricky. Beginning love is more complicated than we realize. People often fall in love with the idea of someone without truly knowing who they are. There is also the question of whether it is worth putting feelings on the line for someone who may leave you in the end? How can we be sure that this person will not hurt us in the end? We can’t. And that is why it is so scary. I have a theory, though. If the one who may open your heart to gets any sense that they would hurt you, that is not the one who should give your time and devotion to. Give your heart to the one who goes out of their way to make sure you are never hurt.
Are You the New Person Drawn Toward Me?
Are you the new person drawn toward me? To begin with take warning, I am surely far different from what you suppose; Do you suppose you will find in me your ideal? Do you think it so easy to have me become your lover? Do you think the friendship of me would be unalloy'd satisfaction? Do you think I am trusty and faithful? Do you see no further than this facade, this smooth and tolerant manner of me? Do you suppose yourself advancing on real ground toward a real heroic man? Have you no thought O dreamer that it may be all maya, illusion?
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Developing an interest in someone scares me. I question what they see in me and why they find me worth their time. Why are the motivations behind their intentions? But also, are they worth my time? What makes them think that I should give them my pressure hours if they have nothing to offer me. If you cannot keep a decent conversation or feed my desire for adventure, then why should I focus on you?
Shot gold, maroon and violet, dazzling silver, emerald, fawn, The earth’s whole amplitude and Nature’s multiform power consign’d for once to colors; The light, the general air possess’d by them—colors till now unknown, No limit, confine—not the Western sky alone—the high meridian— North, South, all, Pure luminous color fighting the silent shadows to the last.
A Prairie Sunset
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The Voice of the Rain And who art thou? said I to the soft-falling shower, Which, strange to tell, gave me an answer, as here translated: I am the Poem of Earth, said the voice of the rain, Eternal I rise impalpable out of the land and the bottomless sea, Upward to heaven, whence, vaguely form'd, altogether changed, and yet the same, I descend to lave the drouths, atomies, dust-layers of the globe, And all that in them without me were seeds only, latent, unborn; And forever, by day and night, I give back life to my own origin, and make pure and beautify it; (For song, issuing from its birth-place, after fulfilment, wandering, Reck'd or unreck'd, duly with love returns.)
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The rain has always had a personal meaning to me. I love to beauty of it. Rain refreshes and cleanses the Earth. While it often has a sad association, the rain actually brings me a lot of joy. When I was little, I would go outside and dance in the rain because I loved how it felt on my skin. The world is also so peaceful when it rains. It is like a quiet moment that the world takes for itself to renew its troubled mind.
Be composed—be at ease with me—I am Walt Whitman, liberal and lusty as Nature, Not till the sun excludes you do I exclude you, Not till the waters refuse to glisten for you and the leaves to rustle for you, do my words refuse to glisten and rustle for you. My girl I appoint with you an appointment, and I charge you that you make preparation to be worthy to meet me, And I charge you that you be patient and perfect till I come. Till then I salute you with a significant look that you do not forget me.
To a Common Prostitute
That Shadow That shadow, my likeness, that goes to and fro, seeking a livelihood, chattering, chaffering; How often I find myself standing and looking at it where it flits; How often I question and doubt whether that is really me; —But in these, and among my lovers, and caroling my songs, O I never doubt whether that is really me.
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My Likeness
And your very flesh shall be a great poem -Walt Whitman
Bibliography Whitman, Walt. Leaves of Grass. Project Gutenberg EBook. Release date: August 24, 2008 [EBook #1322]
Index
Beginners.........................................................................1 To You.............................................................................2 I Sit and Look Out...........................................................3 My Picture-Gallery..........................................................4 Whoever You Are Now Holding Me in Hand.................5 Are You the New Person Drawn Toward Me?................7 A Prarie Sunset................................................................8 The Voice of the Rain......................................................9 To a Common Prostitute................................................10 That Shadow, My Likeness............................................11
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