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Mad for Poetry

The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad for life, mad for talking, mad for poetry.

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Author: Samantha Evans

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What Am I, After All? By Walt Whitman

What am I, after all, but a child, pleas’d with the sound of my own name? repeating it over and over;I stand apart to hear,…

September 27, 2019
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Weave In, Weave In, My Hardy Life By Walt Whitman

Weave in! weave in, my hardy life!Weave yet a soldier strong and full, for great campaigns to come;Weave in red blood! weave sinews in, like…

September 27, 2019
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We Two, How Long We Were Fool’d By Walt Whitman

We two, how long we were fool’d!Now transmuted, we swiftly escape, as Nature escapes;We are Nature, long have we been absent, but now we return;We…

September 27, 2019
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We Two Boys Together Clinging By Walt Whitman

We two boys together clinging,One the other never leaving,Up and down the roads going, North and South excursions making,Power enjoying, elbows stretching, fingers clutching,Arm’d and…

September 27, 2019
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Warble Of Lilac-Time By Walt Whitman

Warble me now, for joy of Lilac-time,Sort me, O tongue and lips, for Nature’s sake, and sweet life’s sake, and death’s the same as life’s,Souvenirs…

September 27, 2019
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Wandering At Morn By Walt Whitman

Wandering at morn,Emerging from the night, from gloomy thoughts, thee in my thoughts,Yearning for thee, harmonious Union! thee, Singing Bird divine!Thee, seated coil’d in evil…

September 27, 2019
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Walt Whitman’s Caution By Walt Whitman

To The States, or any one of them, or any city of The States,Resist much, obey little;Once unquestioning obedience, once fully enslaved;Once fully enslaved, no…

September 27, 2019
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I Celebrate Myself By Walt Whitman

I I CELEBRATE myself; And what I assume you shall assume; For every atom belonging to me, as good belongs to you.  I loafe and invite my…

September 27, 2019
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Voices By Walt Whitman

Now I make a leaf of Voices, for I have found nothing mightier than they are,And I have found that no word spoken, but is…

September 27, 2019
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Visor’d By Walt Whitman

A mask, a perpetual natural disguiser of herself,Concealing her face, concealing her form,Changes and transformations every hour, every moment,Falling upon her even when she sleeps.

September 27, 2019

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Mad For Poetry

Mad For Poetry

Poesia Poetry Journal! Have a Read.

  • Issue #1 – Mad for Poetry / Pazzi per la Poesia

Mad for Poetry

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