Poems on Whitman

One Grand, Ringing Voice
Evelyn

Zest, like no other,
For books of all kinds
Entranced in museums
Eager for conversation

A printer’s apprentice
Witnessing ideas unfurling into words
On paper with ink and bold writing
Reaching out to people far and wide

Ecstatic emotions erupt
When laying eyes upon
His first published piece
Staring back at him from the page

Matured in his years
He wrote what he felt
Of the life and events
Rapidly spinning about him

Hastily discarding
Rhyme and meter
Free to jot images
Plain and fanciful alike

Heart in hand, out of his pocket
Came “Leaves of Grass”
Jubilation on July fourth, 1855
An everlasting gift to America

Civil war—
Rips and tears a nation
Young souls lay dying in white sheets
No war could harm
This aged man’s steadfast love

Giver of small gifts
Slipping spoons of food into
Helpless mouths here and there
Comforter to weary spirits

On his way to meager pay
A glance up and a bowed head
Giving respect unto his captain Lincoln
Pass in the morning—
A pair of heavy hearted Americans

“Drum Taps” born
From realizations of wartime
“Oh captain! My captain!”—
Whitman mourns
Likewise we mourn

Inspirational
Resounding
Ringing throughout the nation
One of a kind
Influential
In and after his time--—
Dear old
Walt Whitman





Changing
By Hannah


Changing the face
of poetry forever

With words
Free and flowing
Never to return

Grey-Blue war sent him
Searching, Searching, Searching

Helping poor dying souls
Have a bit of sunshine
In an hour of need

“O Captain, My Captain”
his fearful trip now done
horrific yet victorious

Poems pouring out
Thence and evermore

Endlessly,
Walt Whitman.