POET OF DEMOCRACY by Walt Whiteman

The old book (Poet of Democracy, A biography by Babette Deutshse )purchased by me long back on footpath, lying now in my old book treasure, caught my attention and I remembered immediately the joy and inspiration I got from those poems. I thought, how he upheld the necessity of Democracy in those days of aristocratic systems, and created a movement which led finally in birth of nation believing firmly in Democracy and freedom of thought. These thoughts have a great relevance in the present scenario of struggle for democracy in different countries and would prove to be inspiring.
I thought it fit to pass on some of the magnificent poems displaying great philosophical mind, for you to think over.WALT WHITEMAN

Excerpts from Preface
Go, dear friend, if need be give up all else,&
and commence to-day to inure yourself to pluck,
reality, self-esteem, definiteness, elevatedness,
Rest not till you rivet and publish yourself of your own Personality

These lines stirred me so that I started reading Whiteman from cover to cover,
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( from Song of Myself )
Walt Whiteman, a kosmos, of Manhatten the son,
Turbulent, fleshy, sensual, eating, drinking, breeding.
No sentimentalist, no stander above men and women or apart from them. No more modest than immodest.
Unscrew the locks from the doors !

Unscrew the doors themselves from their jambs !

Whoever degrades another degrades me,

And whatever is done or said returns at last to me.

Through me the afflatus surging and surging, through me the current index.
I speak the pass-word primeval, I give the sign of democracy. 

By God ! I will accept nothing which cannot have their counterpart of on the same terms
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I know I have the best of time and space, and was never measured and never will be measured.
I tramp a perpetual journey, (come listen all!)
My signs are a rain-proof coat, good shoes, and a staff cut from the woods,
No friend of mine takes his ease in my chair, I have no chair, no church, no philosophy,
I lead no man to a dinner-table, library, exchange, But each man and each woman of you I lead upon knoll,
My left hand hooking you round the waist, My right hand pointing to landscapes of continents and the public road.
Not I, not any one else can travel that road for you, You must travel it for yourself.
It is not far, it is within reach,
Perhaps you have been on it since you were born and did not know,
Perhaps it is everywhere on water and on land.
Shoulder your duds dear son, and I will mine, and let us hasten forth,
Wonderful cities and free nations we shall fetch as we go.