Walt Whitman/A Poet who paints with Words

Walt Whitman(click) 

from google image

Was a wonderful American poet who wrote about war, love, and suffering.  He lived during the civil war in the United States, and saw much tragedy and loss during his life.  He was a big man with a big voice.   One of my favorite poems  by Whitman is Captain  my Captain, a poem about death.  As only artists can Whitman translates the frustration and anguish we all feel about dying. 

O Captain my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies,Fallen cold and dead. Constant Mayer  from google image O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up--for you the flag is flung for you the bugle trills, For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths for you the shores a-crowding, For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here Captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head! It is some dream that on the deck, You've fallen cold and dead. My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still; My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will; The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done; From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won; Exult O shores, and ring O bells! But I, with mournful tread, Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.

New Orleans Inspires Writers and Artists

I was researching artists and writers who have lived and worked in New Orleans when I ran across this article and just love the description of the city.  I wish I could write like this, t is just delicious writing..so much said so succinctly. 

NEW ORLEANS — If cities were people, New Orleans would be the earthy and lovable old uncle who shows up drunk (and with a young thing at his side) at sedate family gatherings, all the while secretly reveling in his open defiance of polite society. It has had that attitude for centuries, way before its label "The City That Care Forgot" was mongrelized into the coarser sound bite of "The Big Easy."

Sprawled over both banks of a crescent formed by the Mississippi River Delta, New Orleans is really not North American at all. Its rhythms, smells, lusty ambience and complacency developed from a delicious mixture of French, Spanish, African, Creole and Cajun cultures spiced with the spirit of the American frontier. In its infancy, pirates, mercenaries, outcasts, drunks, religious fanatics, defrocked priests, gamblers and whores all found haven here and thrived in the warmth of its tolerance. To this day, the place reeks of hedonism, decadence and immorality--qualities long recognized as potent magnets for writers. By Sergio Ortiz of the Los Angeles Times

Writers like Faulkner, Whitman, and O'Henry to name a few, wrote about this wonderful magical city.  It is a gritty earthy city, it is not an easy city in many ways.  The crime rate is high and one must be aware of the neighborhood you are in.  But it is bawdy, it talented, it is fun and it defies all rules that would restrict its freedom to celebrate.  But as one of my friends said when I complained about the crime rate, yes it has always been that way, but that is what makes us unique!