Walt Whitman

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

Walt Whitman Poems

161. Inscription 12/31/2002
162. Shut Not Your Doors, &C. 12/31/2002
163. Patroling Barnegat 12/31/2002
164. Song Of The Broad-Axe 12/31/2002
165. From Paumanok Starting 12/31/2002
166. O Bitter Sprig! Confession Sprig! 12/31/2002
167. Year Of Meteors, 1859 '60 12/31/2002
168. From Far Dakota's Canons 12/31/2002
169. Not My Enemies Ever Invade Me 12/31/2002
170. Other May Praise What They Like 12/31/2002
171. Delicate Cluster 12/31/2002
172. Europe, The 72d And 73d Years Of These States 12/31/2002
173. One Sweeps By 12/31/2002
174. The City Dead-House 12/31/2002
175. O Tan-Faced Prairie Boy 12/31/2002
176. Not The Pilot 12/31/2002
177. Not Heat Flames Up And Consumes 12/31/2002
178. The Dresser 12/31/2002
179. Rise, O Days 12/31/2002
180. The Last Invocation 1/3/2003
181. Behold This Swarthy Face 12/31/2002
182. Joy, Shipmate, Joy! 12/31/2002
183. Sparkles From The Wheel 12/31/2002
184. Chanting The Square Deific 12/31/2002
185. Starting From Paumanok 12/31/2002
186. Hush'D Be The Camps Today 1/3/2003
187. Once I Pass'D Through A Populous City 12/31/2002
188. In The New Garden In All The Parts 12/31/2002
189. Spirit Whose Work Is Done 12/31/2002
190. I Heard You, Solemn-Sweep Pipes Of The Organ 12/31/2002
191. As Toilsome I Wander'D 12/31/2002
192. In Former Songs 12/31/2002
193. Long I Thought That Knowledge 12/31/2002
194. Ethiopia Saluting The Colors 12/31/2002
195. The Artilleryman's Vision 12/31/2002
196. Poem Of Remembrance For A Girl Or A Boy 12/31/2002
197. Italian Music In Dakota 12/31/2002
198. The Runner 12/31/2002
199. Hast Never Come To Thee An Hour 12/31/2002
200. Fast Anchor'D, Eternal, O Love 12/31/2002

Comments about Walt Whitman

  • Aj Meunier (3/22/2012 10:54:00 PM)

    i love witman hes my fave poet

    98 person liked.
    125 person did not like.
  • Silviu Ciocan (1/8/2010 1:46:00 AM)

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

  • 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.

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!

To A Historian

YOU who celebrate bygones!
Who have explored the outward, the surfaces of the races--the life
that has exhibited itself;
Who have treated of man as the creature of politics, aggregates,
rulers and priests;
I, habitan of the Alleghanies, treating of him as he is in himself,
in his own rights,
Pressing the pulse of the life that has seldom exhibited itself, (the

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