Think only what concerns thee and thy being;
Dream not of other worlds, what creatures there
Live, in what state, condition or degree,
Contented that thus far hath been revealed
Not of earth only but of highest Heav’n. (8.174-8)

. . . but to know
That which before us lies in daily life,
Is the prime wisdom; what is more, is fume,
Or emptiness, or fond impertinence,
And renders us in things that most concern
Unpractised, unprepared, and still to seek. (8.192-7)

. . . but in these
I found not what methought I wanted still; (8.354-5)

. . . here passion first I felt,
Commotion strange, (8.530-1)

. . . Let it suffice thee that thou knows’t
Us happy, and without love no happiness. (8.620-1)

The tax which will be paid for the purpose of education is not more than the thousandth part of what will be paid to kings, priests, and nobles who will rise up among us if we leave the people in ignorance.

-Thomas Jefferson, third US president, architect and author (1743-1826)

I mind how once we lay such a transparent summer morning.
How you settled your head athwart my hips and gently turn’d over upon me,
And parted the shirt from my bosom-bone, and plunged your tongue to my bare-stript heart,
And reach’d till you felt my beard, and reach’d till you held my feet.

– Walt Whitman, from #5, “Song of Myself,” Leaves of Grass

Whitman is talking about his soul in this passage, not a lover, and it is an excellent example of the blatant eroticism he applies to different aspects of human and American life.

During his introduction to Whitman, our professor told us about a graduate seminar he attended with a few other graduate students. They each had to present on one subject of the seminar and one (un)lucky female student drew Leaves of Grass. He remembered her name—it was something silly and innocent-sounding like Emily Bateman. She’d never encountered Whitman before and it must have swept her up. She breathlessly began her presentation with this memorable phrase: “Have you ever been fucked by a poem?!”

Oh, Emily Bateman.

I prefer to be true to be true to myself, even at the hazard of incurring the ridicule of others, rather than to be false, and incur my own abhorrence.

– Frederick Douglass, Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, An American Slave, Written by Himself, 1845

Reminded me of this quote from Lao Tzu:

At the center of your being you have the answer; you know who you are and you know what you want.

In the woods, we return to reason and faith. There I feel that nothing can befal [sic] me in life,—no disgrace, no calamity, (leaving me my eyes,) which nature cannot repair. Standing on the bare ground,—my head bathed by the blithe air, and uplifted into infinite space,—all egotism vanishes. I become a transparent eye-ball. I am nothing. I see all. The currents of the Universal Being circulate through me; I am part or particle of God.

– Ralph Waldo Emerson, “Nature”

How strange, to read this 19th century American writer (perhaps the 19th century American writer) and find this nugget of Buddha.

No finer, greater gift in the world than that . . .
when man and woman possess their home, two minds,
two hearts that works as one. Despair to their enemies,
a joy to all their friends. Their own best claim to glory.

– Homer, The Odyssey, Book 6: The Princess and the Stranger

I love that, even in this mushy passage, Homer always manages to inject something about bringing despair to one’s enemies (in the sweetest way imaginable)! Calls to mind Conan’s answer about what is best in life:

To crush your enemies, to see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentations of their women.

Homer put it better.

We do have Prayers, you know, Prayers for forgiveness,
daughters of mighty Zeus . . . and they limp and halt,
they’re all wrinkled, drawn, they squint to the side,
can’t look you in the eyes, and always bent on duty,
trudging after Ruin, maddening, blinding Ruin.
But Ruin is strong and swift—
She outstrips them all by far, stealing a march,
leaping over the whole wide earth to bring mankind to grief.
And the Prayers trail after, trying to heal the wounds.
And then, if a man reveres these daughters of Zeus
as they draw near him, they will help him greatly
and listen to his appeals. But if one denies them,
turns them away, stiff-necked and harsh—off they go
to the son of Cronus, Zeus, and pray that Ruin
will strike the man down, crazed and blinded
until he’s paid the price.

– Homer, The Iliad, Book 9: The Embassy to Achilles

Eros once more limbslackener makes me shudder
sweetbitter irresistible creeping

– Sappho, Poems and Fragments, translated by Stanley Lombardo

My favorite fragment of the bunch.

The shackles, therefore, which shall not be knocked off as the conclusion of this war, will remain on us long, will be made heavier and heavier, till our rights shall revive or expire in a convulsion.

– Thomas Jefferson, Notes on the State of Virgina, “Query XVII. Religion”

Jefferson wrote this in regards to religious freedom but I found it resonated with me in regards to the state of national security in this country since 9-11, healthcare, and education.

For this reason Monday burns like oil
at the sight of me arriving with my jail-face,
and it howls in passing like a wounded wheel,
and its footsteps towards nightfall are filled with hot blood.

– Pablo Neruda, “Walking Around”

Yes, it’s Monday and finals week. I have survived today only slightly-scathed … there’s a bit more scathing to do Tuesday and Thursday and then I’ll be done! My cap and gown are hanging by the front door and need just a little steaming before I can graduate with a couple AA degrees.

I’m going to be sad to leave Cuesta College. It’s been such a nice place to grow in. One of my English professors asked me today if I’d be back in the Fall. I said I was going to Cal State LA to finish my bachelor’s and then I’d get my master’s and then maybe I’d be a colleague of his next time he saw me