say what? my mom spouts those first two sentences all the time this month yet can't remember the rest of the poem or who wrote it.
so just what is James Russell Lowell trying to say here? why are poets so spazed out in their own universe like they invented some form of LSD before Tim Leary even existed?
....Whether we look, or whether we listen, We hear life murmur, or see it glisten; Every clod feels a stir of might, An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, grasping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers; The flush of life may well be seen Thrilling back over hills and valleys; The cowslip startles in meadows green, The buttercup catches the sun in its chalice, And there 's never a leaf or a blade too mean To be some happy creature's palace;
i mean, did people really sit around on their victorian front porches hiding behind blinds of potted palms reading this stuff?
i think the same thing when confronted with the likes of
DJ Drama ft. Future & Drake - We in This B*tch 1.5
do kids really ride their skateboards down the street with their boxer butts exposed listening to this stuff? do they listen to the words and comprehend them?
i live on a different planet i fear. no longer native to this one.
