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got fishing, boating, swimming, camping, travel, exploration—all rolled into one package. This trip also drew another estimate from us—it beat, by far, any seashore, It's a photo-enthusiast's dream—there's a new scene around every bend and You'll appreciate traveling light, brother, when you make that first portage!
Table of contents
- Share this article
- The 10 Best Songs of 12222 (So Far)
- Understand teenage slang | Family Lives
- Building a safe, prosperous and respected nation
My voice goes after what my eyes cannot reach,.
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With the twirl of my tongue I encompass worlds and volumes of worlds. Speech is the twin of my vision, it is unequal to measure itself,. It provokes me forever, it says sarcastically,. Come now I will not be tantalized, you conceive too much of articulation,. Do you not know O speech how the buds beneath you are folded?
The dirt receding before my prophetical screams,.
I underlying causes to balance them at last,. My knowledge my live parts, it keeping tally with the meaning of all things,.
The 10 Best Songs of 12222 (So Far)
Happiness, which whoever hears me let him or her set out in search of this day. My final merit I refuse you, I refuse putting from me what I really am,. Encompass worlds, but never try to encompass me,. I crowd your sleekest and best by simply looking toward you.
I carry the plenum of proof and every thing else in my face,. With the hush of my lips I wholly confound the skeptic. To accrue what I hear into this song, to let sounds contribute toward it. I hear bravuras of birds, bustle of growing wheat, gossip of flames, clack of sticks cooking my meals,. I hear the sound I love, the sound of the human voice,. I hear all sounds running together, combined, fused or following,. Sounds of the city and sounds out of the city, sounds of the day and night,. Talkative young ones to those that like them, the loud laugh of work-people at their meals,.
The angry base of disjointed friendship, the faint tones of the sick,. The judge with hands tight to the desk, his pallid lips pronouncing a death-sentence,. The steam whistle, the solid roll of the train of approaching cars,. They go to guard some corpse, the flag-tops are draped with black muslin. It shakes mad-sweet pangs through my belly and breast. Ah this indeed is music—this suits me. A tenor large and fresh as the creation fills me,. The orbic flex of his mouth is pouring and filling me full.
Understand teenage slang | Family Lives
The orchestra whirls me wider than Uranus flies,. I am cut by bitter and angry hail, I lose my breath,. At length let up again to feel the puzzle of puzzles,. Round and round we go, all of us, and ever come back thither,. I have instant conductors all over me whether I pass or stop,. They seize every object and lead it harmlessly through me.
I merely stir, press, feel with my fingers, and am happy,.
Is this then a touch? Flames and ether making a rush for my veins,. Treacherous tip of me reaching and crowding to help them,. My flesh and blood playing out lightning to strike what is hardly different from myself,. On all sides prurient provokers stiffening my limbs,.
Straining the udder of my heart for its withheld drip,. Behaving licentious toward me, taking no denial,. Unbuttoning my clothes, holding me by the bare waist,. Deluding my confusion with the calm of the sunlight and pasture-fields,. They bribed to swap off with touch and go and graze at the edges of me,.
Building a safe, prosperous and respected nation
No consideration, no regard for my draining strength or my anger,. Fetching the rest of the herd around to enjoy them a while,. Then all uniting to stand on a headland and worry me.
The sentries desert every other part of me,. They have left me helpless to a red marauder,. They all come to the headland to witness and assist against me. I talk wildly, I have lost my wits, I and nobody else am the greatest traitor,. I went myself first to the headland, my own hands carried me there. You villain touch!
Unclench your floodgates, you are too much for me. Rich showering rain, and recompense richer afterward. Sprouts take and accumulate, stand by the curb prolific and vital,.
Landscapes projected masculine, full-sized and golden. They neither hasten their own delivery nor resist it,. They do not need the obstetric forceps of the surgeon,. The damp of the night drives deeper into my soul. Only what proves itself to every man and woman is so,. I believe the soggy clods shall become lovers and lamps,. And a compend of compends is the meat of a man or woman,. And a summit and flower there is the feeling they have for each other,. And they are to branch boundlessly out of that lesson until it becomes omnific,. And until one and all shall delight us, and we them.
I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars,. And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and the egg of the wren,. And the running blackberry would adorn the parlors of heaven,. And the narrowest hinge in my hand puts to scorn all machinery,.
And a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels. I find I incorporate gneiss, coal, long-threaded moss, fruits, grains, esculent roots,. And have distanced what is behind me for good reasons,.