Walt Whitman

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

Walt Whitman Poems

121. We Two Boys Together Clinging 12/31/2002
122. Walt Whitman's Caution 12/31/2002
123. Lo! Victress On The Peaks 12/31/2002
124. A Song Of Joys 12/19/2014
125. The Ship Starting 12/31/2002
126. The Sleepers 12/31/2002
127. The Ox Tamer 12/31/2002
128. This Dust Was Once The Man 12/31/2002
129. The Centerarian's Story 12/31/2002
130. Spirit That Form'D Theis Scene 12/31/2002
131. Long, Too Long, O Land! 12/31/2002
132. Locations And Times 12/31/2002
133. Spain 1873-'74 12/31/2002
134. Inscription 12/31/2002
135. Solid, Ironical, Rolling Orb 12/31/2002
136. When I Peruse The Conquer'D Fame 12/31/2002
137. Sing Of The Banner At Day-Break 12/31/2002
138. No Labor-Saving Machine 12/31/2002
139. Now List To My Morning's Romanza 12/31/2002
140. With Antecedents 12/31/2002
141. France, The 18th Year Of These States 12/31/2002
142. There Was A Child Went Forth 12/31/2002
143. What Weeping Face 12/31/2002
144. The Indications 12/31/2002
145. I Heard You, Solemn-Sweep Pipes Of The Organ 12/31/2002
146. The Base Of All Metaphysics 12/31/2002
147. Scented Herbage Of My Breast 12/31/2002
148. Not Heaving From My Ribb'D Breast Only 12/31/2002
149. States! 12/31/2002
150. From Paumanok Starting 12/31/2002
151. O Bitter Sprig! Confession Sprig! 12/31/2002
152. Not My Enemies Ever Invade Me 12/31/2002
153. Savantism 12/31/2002
154. From Far Dakota's Canons 12/31/2002
155. Mediums 12/31/2002
156. Other May Praise What They Like 12/31/2002
157. Recorders Ages Hence 12/31/2002
158. Tests 12/31/2002
159. Song Of The Exposition 12/31/2002
160. The Mystic Trumpeter 12/31/2002

Comments about Walt Whitman

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

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

    97 person liked.
    148 person did not like.
  • 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! !

  • Ben Dover (3/11/2008 7:56:00 AM)

    nice beard..wanker
    go walt

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

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

  • 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.

  • Zubyre Parvez 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.

  • 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

  • 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.

  • Amanda Patrick (12/8/2005 11:01:00 AM)

    In the poem, 'Tears, ' Whitman is very depressed. He talks about crying on the shore of the beach and just letting himself go. He doesn't know who he is anymore. He talks about how he is calm during the day and doesn't show his inner feelings, and how at night he becomes very depressed again without any one knowing.

  • Amanda Patrick (12/8/2005 10:44:00 AM)

    When I read the poem, 'Sparkles From The Wheel', I thought whitman was saying how something so little can turn out to be so beautiful. For example, in the line when he says, 'The scene, and all its belongings-how they seize and affect me! '

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!


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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