Walt Whitman

(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892 / New York / United States)

Comments about Walt Whitman

  • Rookie Caneesha Bartlett (4/8/2012 4:53:00 PM)

    I will always love his beauty and such truthful poetry

    176 person liked.
    205 person did not like.
  • Rookie Aj Meunier (3/22/2012 10:54:00 PM)

    i love witman hes my fave poet

  • Rookie Silviu Ciocan (1/8/2010 1:46:00 AM)

    ...and Borges read and like very much Whitman.

  • Rookie - 188 Points Poet Hunter (7/6/2009 12:19:00 AM)

    'For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you' - Walt Whitman was way ahead of his time when he wrote 'Leaves of Grass' and it seems, for some, he is still way ahead of the times. Great poet! !

  • Rookie Ben Dover (3/11/2008 7:56:00 AM)

    nice beard..wanker
    go walt

  • Rookie Indigo Hawkins (2/15/2008 4:25:00 PM)

    Whitman is such a hedonist. I love him for it.

  • Rookie - 0 Points Riquetta Elliott (10/10/2007 10:44:00 AM)

    Walt Whitman is a genuine poet because he writes his expression freely about his sentiments. He don't have to rhyme to make his poetry meaningful. He has a free verse to make it meaningful and understanding.

  • Rookie - 136 Points Zubyre Parvez (1/22/2007 12:15:00 PM)

    I love Walt Whitman, he writes with the grand air and he encompasses variety, he isn't staring down a microscope though he has the attentiveness of any detail-orientated person. It's his emotional heart centre at work ant its very magical. It's that which makes his writing expansive and gives us a feeling of exuberance. He's not an intellectual, but a Lover.

    Alot of contemporary poetry since the classics seems homely and nice, domestic etc, but its really the grand stuff such as Eternity that gives the classical poets their grand airs. And their poetry lasts...they are concerned with the foundations and posterity and the long term...they care about life after them and they care about their forefathers, their country, their people, they just love, that's all.

    There's been a trend in the contemporary poets to be banal, like Phillip Larkin, and its a direct product of being in a godless world, and the literati push for the banal and disordered thinking of the modernists and postmodernists, so that now the national poets who work towards unity, spirituality and grand narratives (something healthy and good) are pushed to the sidelines. Yet post-structuralism and so much modern theory has destroyed the traditional sublime arts which are limitless in their level of beauty and art can is a pursuit of perfection.
    I dunno but Rumi mighta reached a level of beauty in his poetry that musta been supreme this side of the galaxy!

    walt whitman was a national poet and he was a traditional sage. He preserved the forms of his forefathers, and he is writing within a tradition, he has a strong sense of place and he is connected to the larger picture and yet his individuality is very pronounced.
    He has his launchpad his womb of history and ancestory, and he flies his rocket.
    Goethe was a rooted traveller and explorer of life so is Whitman.

  • Rookie Lonely Eye (3/3/2006 2:49:00 PM)

    the more knowing we have of whatever it may be perpetuates the unknown to which we must look to discover
    as when it is life that has been lived to its utmost we shall graciously enter into death for not the end but the beginning of what is unknown

  • Rookie Alicia Hodkin (12/8/2005 11:02:00 AM)

    At the beginning of the poem, Whitman is filled with anguish and depression. He's so depressed and deperate that it's causing pain. He's pouring out all the emotion that's built up inside of him. Since he's been in anguish he takes a good look at himself and doesn't even recognize who he's become. During the day he acts as though it's a mundane way of life, but in the night, when no one's looking, his emotion is desperately pouring out like the ocean.

Best Poem of Walt Whitman

O Captain! My Captain!


O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.


O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up--for you the flag is flung--for you the bugle trills; 10
For you bouquets and ...

Read the full of O Captain! My Captain!

Portals

WHAT are those of the known, but to ascend and enter the Unknown?
And what are those of life, but for Death?

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