"On the last day of the world I would want to plant a tree.” — W.S. Merwin
  • Election Day 2008

    (2)
    Posted on November 4th, 2008sherryGeneral

    Election Day, November, 1884

      If I should need to name, O Western World, your powerfulest scene and show,
      'Twould not be you, Niagara—nor you, ye limitless prairies—nor
          your huge rifts of canyons, Colorado,
      Nor you, Yosemite—nor Yellowstone, with all its spasmic
          geyser-loops ascending to the skies, appearing and disappearing,
      Nor Oregon's white cones—nor Huron's belt of mighty lakes—nor
          Mississippi's stream:
      —This seething hemisphere's humanity, as now, I'd name—the still
          small voice vibrating—America's choosing day,
      (The heart of it not in the chosen—the act itself the main, the
          quadriennial choosing,)
      The stretch of North and South arous'd—sea-board and inland—
          Texas to Maine—the Prairie States—Vermont, Virginia, California,
      The final ballot-shower from East to West—the paradox and conflict,
      The countless snow-flakes falling—(a swordless conflict,
      Yet more than all Rome's wars of old, or modern Napoleon's:) the
          peaceful choice of all,
      Or good or ill humanity—welcoming the darker odds, the dross:
      —Foams and ferments the wine? it serves to purify—while the heart
          pants, life glows:
      These stormy gusts and winds waft precious ships,
      Swell'd Washington's, Jefferson's, Lincoln's sails.
    

    — Walt Whitman, from Leaves of Grass

    I urge you to go and vote.

    Possibly related posts:

      Donne on Sunday
      Wine builds strong bones
      Shawnee!

    Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.

2 Responses to “Election Day 2008”

  1. Hey, cool! I read this poem at the Walt Whitman Tribute reading on May 31st in New Bedford! Glad to see it getting some recognition here! :-)

    Joanie

  2. Hey Joanie – I like the way Whitman’s poem contrasts with the Whittier poem I posted yesterday: the difference between a poet and a versifier.

    A friend just forwarded me these remarks by Robert Pinksy — from the op-ed page of the Boston Globe:

    The poem is not wet or glibly sunny. Whitman chooses to speak of voting day not as beautiful or sacred but as “powerful.” He compares it not to forest glades or meadows but to the fluid, dynamic energy of rivers, geysers and waterfalls and to the immense scale of mountains and prairies.
    The close Cleveland-Blaine election of 1884 included personal attacks, nasty rhetoric, and religious prejudices (“Rum, Romanism and Rebellion” was a slogan). Whitman includes the imperfection with phrases like “good or ill” and “the darker odds, the dross.”
    The underground pressures that propel “seismic geyserloops,” the “paradox and conflict” like a snowstorm of passionate opinions or “stormy gusts” – Whitman marvels at those tremendous forces. He doesn’t praise the electoral process with adjectives or justify it with arguments; instead, he commends the day by invoking the past. The journeys of Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln were powered by this turbulent, often defective energy, says Whitman. We can look back on his observation, over a century ago, and feel encouraged.

Leave a Reply

 
RSS feed

Archives

Categories

Recent Comments

  • Jessie carty: I love creative new ways to share poetry :)
  • Jessie Carty: i only recently wrote a clothesline poem but it is unavoidable isn’t it :)
  • Rebecca Clayton: We’ve still got snow cover, but less and less every day. No ramps have come up yet on this ridge. We don’t like to...
  • Helen Losse: I picked two daffodils from our yard yesterday. Daffodils hang their humble heads. I love that.
  • Deb: So glad you have color in your world now!!

Theme Switcher

What I'm Doing...

  • In the dark of the moon, a deep black sky, the dipper tips a libation over our roofbeam. 11 hrs ago
  • The eastern horizon glows like the embers of a sacred fire. Chattering songbirds call for day. To the south, a dove mourns. 1 day ago
  • Drizzle is a miserable word. The heavens lower, my mood is dour. A little spring and I would sing. The sun would turn me carefree as a bird. 3 days ago
  • I open the back door and the wren flies at shin level. Is she nesting on the porch? Our cats are old but not that old. 5 days ago
  • More updates...

Powered by Twitter Tools

 
my 'read' shelf:
 my read shelf

Sherry's favorite quotes


"Art is not about itself but the attention we bring to it."— Marcel Duchamp

Artistic Support

Sherry Chandler has received professional development funding and a Professional Assistance Award through the Kentucky Arts Council, the state arts agency, supported by state tax dollars and federal funding from the National Endowment for the Arts. Kentucky Arts Council Sherry has also received an Artist Enrichment grant from the Kentucky Foundation for Women. kfw
CURRENT MOON