. For the past months I have been reading Walt Whitman. It has been a bit hit and miss to be honest, highs and not so highs. Some poets just speak to you more than others. Technically they can be amazing but the fit isn’t consistently tailored to everyone. This is how it is with Walt and me. The body fits but the sleeves are too long if you see what I mean.
I loved the Song of Myself and The Sleepers very much especially the lines:

‘I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love, if you want me again look for me under your boot soles.’

‘I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of stars’ ( very poetic Carl Sagan-ish).

‘(It seems to me that every thing in the light and air ought to be happy, whoever is not in his coffin and the dark grave let him know he has enough.’
.
And of course:
‘Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes)’

Anyways, poetry does not get enough love in my humble opinion. It is a different reading experience from novels.. a little slim poetry book can take months to read. The joy is not the first read or the second, but the 100th, when the words and meanings become a rhythm in your head. Wonderful wonderful stuff. If I had to choose only novels or poetry to read for the rest of my life it would be poetry.