American Poets

"Song of Myself" is one of the great poems written by the American poet Walt Whitman (1819–1892), included in "Leaves of Grass". Ralph Waldo Emerson praised this poem for its "wit and wisdom". -- The past and present wilt—I have fill'd them, emptied them. And proceed to fill my next fold of the future. Listener up there! what have you to confide to me? Look in my face while I snuff the sidle of evening, (Talk honestly, no one else hears you, and I stay only a minute longer.) Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.) I concentrate toward them that are nigh, I wait on the door-slab. Who has done his day's work? who will soonest be through with his supper? Who wishes to walk with me? Will you speak before I am gone? will you prove already too late? -- Read by Newgatenovelist https://librivox.org/song-of-myself-section-51-by-walt-whitman/ -- My channel "Atum" on YouTube https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC4GrfTi1FYF87_wJnPxaSyA My email [email protected] Donation via PayPal if you see my content worth watching https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/miladsidkyatum -- CREDITS MUSIC Magenta - Sextile -- Photos and vids https://pixabay.com/photos/fantasy-landscape-monumental-statue-3342338/ -- TEXT: https://cooltext.com/Logo-Design-Outline

"I heard a Fly buzz when I died" is a poem by the American Poet Emily Dickinson (1830 – 1886). It is one of her most famous and ambiguous poems, talking about the moment of death from the perspective of a person who is already dead. This death seems to follow standard protocol: the speaker is on their deathbed and surrounded by mourners, and their will is squared away. However, the irritating figure of the fly arrives and undermines the seriousness and gravity of the occasion. Though spoken from the great beyond, the poem offers no easy answers about death, instead casting doubt on religious and social comforts. -- I heard a fly buzz when I died; The stillness round my form Was like the stillness in the air Between the heaves of storm The eyes around had wrung them dry, And breaths were gathering firm For that last onset, when the king Be witnessed in the room. I willed my keepsakes, signed away What portion of me be Assignable,– and then it was There interposed a fly, With blue, uncertain, stumbling buzz, Between the light and me; And then the windows failed and then I could not see to see. -- Read by Lee Ann Howlett https://librivox.org/short-poetry-collection-035/ -- My channel "Atum" on YouTube https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC4GrfTi1FYF87_wJnPxaSyA My email [email protected] Donation via PayPal if you see my content worth watching https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/miladsidkyatum -- CREDITS MUSIC Trieste - Josh Lippi & The Overtimers -- Photos and vids https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:%27At_the_Deathbed%27_by_Edvard_Munch,_1895,_Bergen_Kunstmuseum.JPG Edvard Munch, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Emily_Dickinson_daguerreotype_(cropped).jpg Original image: unknownderivative work: deerstop., Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons https://pixabay.com/videos/aurora-borealis-northern-lights-90877/ https://pixabay.com/photos/fly-bluebottle-garden-insect-bug-2750566/ https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Octave_Tassaert_-_Woman_on_her_deathbed.jpg Octave Tassaert, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons -- TEXT: https://cooltext.com/Logo-Design-Outline ===