Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Ken Pepiton Jan 2020
Whitman printed 795 copies of the first edition of Leaves of Grass, but the book did not sell particularly well. About 200 copies of the 1855 edition are known to survive today.Apr 6, 2011
From How+many+copies+of+Leaves+of+Grass+were+sold on Google.

Hello Poetry is a great boon for serious poets to be read. Good Job, HP
notification of fire evacuation 
     slated to occur 
April 12th, 2018 (between the hours 
     of 9:00 am and 12 pm) did spur
me to validate Google asper,
 
that direct object heave ving, 
     his pro noun sub bull, verb bose, 
ingenious American historical figure 
     attired in tailored clothes

careful, sans his just keen 
     liberal mien pro
     claiming maxim necessity to doze
when body politik needs to *** juiced up

     and doth need restorative source 
     analogous to drained battery expose
zing lack of electricity 
     mechanisms need did tubby supplied 
     (in one direction) flows

accorded stealing thunder and lightening 
     from Zeus where prominence glows  
vis a vis via leaving 
     his tell tale fingerprints 
     upon flame inextinguishable hose

imprimatur of renown Founding Father, 
     a one man gifted born
improved quality of life 
     during Colonial American stage 

     buttressing forlorn
during his deux score and four years 
     fledgling United States heed add horn
bequeathing blueprints 

     (functional contraptions, 
     posthumous patents procured 
     after populace did mourn
     gadgets kickstarting leveraging more novel 

     Ongepatshket prescience, 
     quietly revolutionary, 
     strikingly timesaving), 
     utilitarian value shorn
tattered stitched timeless totemic tenets torn 
     unimagined visionary watershed worn,
where underworld webbed wide world burned 
with thermal coupling that churned
ferocious infernos 
     describing how Hades learned

tubby managed 
     to maximize efficiency 
zealousness zeroed Zyder Zee 
     in said Netherlands

and hellish hot house turned
into a near utopia (More
     or less nsync) with Doubting Thomas's,
where many mortals yearned

to escape corrupt fat cats, sans
     those condemned to mortality
     found minimally a mew
zing, and doggedly trudged 10,000 leagues

     under the sea, entombing
     jewels for vernacular speaking Josephine shew
wing scars from fire 
     that threatened Philadelphians thorough

lee hence, forcing many civilians 
     to dive vining Davy Jones's locker pre view 
     in 1736 after swallowing embalming fluid 
     ha I did "FAKE" you
     tubal heave poetic pablum from human zoo!
afteryourimbaud Oct 2017
Kudos to Kaepernick.

I just cannot drown all my beliefs and ideas, even if it contradicts my flesh and soul. When I heard that not standing up to the tune; that has always succeeded on sweeping all of the messes underneath the sad reality, to be deemed as subversive, I know that Rosa would definitely clench onto the seat tighter than ever.

Kneel, my friend, kneel.

To drag our body out there, all over the precious hills and fields, while acting as if the scale has always been set fairly beneath you all this time, will hurt you more than myself. How can a mere matter of things decide our future, our destiny? We shall shape our fate, you shall shape your own fate, and to be judged on the perception biasedly built in the name of order for thousands of years, is a situation that should not be endured by anyone or anything in a tiny dot within this vast universe.

Kneel, my friend, kneel.

And for that, I cannot stand proudly and profess my love to you as of now, even though I will always wear my heart on my sleeve for you to see. To be cheated, to be manipulated, to be deemed as surplus, by those at the tip of the plateau, that cunningly asked us to forget all the tangles and wrangles for the love of this sacred land, while unashamedly distribute everything off the land, off the ocean amongst them, is the last thing that we should allow to happen. I am one of those people that are not able to put on the mask on top of our meant-to-be honest faces, to say hail to the thief is worse than the eternal grief. I have never dreamed of burying the hatchet with them, not even for a second and if I ever do it, I shall be condemned and dismissed for forgetting the roots, the fons et origo of mine. To love you does not mean to stand still to the soulless melodies, to love you does not mean to bow down to the meaningless piece of cloth that has overseen countless infiltration and bombing over the years.

Kneel, my friend, kneel.

To love you is to fight for the rights of many, by any means, even by not standing up. When black is no longer the symbol of miserable, filth and calamity, we shall then breath with ease, stand on our feet and fully embrace the real meaning behind all those majestic words.

Kudos to Kaepernick.
Àŧùl Nov 2016
She had kissed me as I slept near her father,
More than now I have not felt any farther.
She pursues her dreams self-focussed,
And she has moved on in that life of hers,
My best wish is that only her I wished.
She so dedicatedly chases all her dreams,
Mine she was the only dream I ever pursued.

That kiss was more gratituos than sensuous,
She had woken me up for an active kiss.
Those wee hours I cannot forget ever,
Because just like a surreal dream it was,
She became a one night angel for me.
Those moments one could never forget,
She is the new generation – maybe she can.
I refuse to become next generation when it comes to love.
If I am supposed to be alone all my life, then so be it.
I am not going to move on when I was not at fault until I am granted justice.

HP Poem #1239
©Atul Kaushal
Rockie May 2015
Kudos to you for being a soldier.
Kudos to them for fighting for their rights.
Kudos to us for not being afraid (or being afraid for all the right reasons).
Kudos for the children.
Kudos for the adults.
Kudos for the people of earth for surviving yet another day.

— The End —