Analysis of The Golden Whales Of California
Vachel Lindsay 1879 (Springfield) – 1931 (Springfield)
Part I.A Short Walk Along the Coast
Yes, I have walked in California,
And the rivers there are blue and white.
Thunderclouds of grapes hang on the mountains.
Bears in the meadows pitch and fight.
(Limber, double- jointed lords of fate,
Proud native sons of the Golden Gate.)
And flowers burst like bombs in California,
Exploding on tomb and tower.
And the panther-cats chase the red rabbits,
Scatter their young blood every hour.
And the cattle on the hills of California
And the very swine in the holes
Have ears of silk and velvet
And tusks like long white poles.
And the very swine, big hearted,
Walk with pride to their doom
For they feed on the sacred raisins
Where the great black agates loom.
Goshawfuls are Burbanked with the grizzly bears.
At midnight their children come clanking up the stairs.
They wriggle up the canyons,
Nose into the caves,
And swallow the papooses and the Indian braves.
The trees climb so high the crows are dizzy
Flying to their nests at the top.
While the jazz-birds screech, and storm the brazen beach
And the sea-stars turn flip flop.
The solid Golden Gate soars up to Heaven.
Perfumed cataracts are hurled
From the zones of silver snow
To the ripening rye below,
To the land of the lemon and the nut
And the biggest ocean in the world.
While the Native Sons, like lords tremendous
Lift up their heads with chants sublime,
And the band-stands sound the trombone, the saxophone and xylophone
And the whales roar in perfect tune and time.
And the chanting of the whales of California
I have set my heart upon.
It is sometimes a play by Belasco,
Sometimes a tale of Prester John.
Part II.The Chanting of the Whales
North to the Pole, south to the Pole
The whales of California wallow and roll.
They dive and breed and snort and play
And the sun struck feed them every day
Boatloads of citrons, quinces, cherries,
Of bloody strawberries, plums and beets,
Hogsheads of pomegranates, vats of sweets,
And the he-whales chant like a cyclone blares,
Proclaiming the California noons
So gloriously hot some days
The snake is fried in the desert
And the flea no longer plays.
There are ten gold suns in California
When all other lands have one,
For the Golden Gate must have due light
And persimmons be well-done.
And the hot whales slosh and cool in the wash
And the fume of the hollow sea.
Rally and roam in the loblolly foam
And whoop that their souls are free.
(Limber, double- jointed lords of fate,
Proud native sons of the Golden Gate.)
And they chant of the forty-niners
Who sailed round the cape for their loot
With guns and picks and washpans
And a dagger in each boot.
How the richest became the King of England,
The poorest became the King of Spain,
The bravest a colonel in the army,
And a mean one went insane.
The ten gold suns are so blasting
The sunstruck scoot for the sea
And turn to mermen and mermaids
And whoop that their souls are free.
(Limber, double- jointed lords of fate,
Proud native sons of the Golden Gate.)
And they take young whales for their bronchos
And old whales for their steeds,
Harnessed with golden seaweeds,
And driven with golden reeds.
They dance on the shore throwing rose-leaves.
They kiss all night throwing hearts.
They fight like scalded wildcats
When the least bit of fighting starts.
They drink, these belly-busting devils
And their tremens shake the ground.
And then they repent like whirlwinds
And never were such saints found.
They will give you their plug tobacco.
They will give you the shirts off their backs.
They will cry for your every sorrow,
Put ham in your haversacks.
And they feed the cuttlefishes, whales and skates
With dates and figs in bales and crates :
Shiploads of sweet potatoes, peanuts, rutabagas,
Honey in hearts of gourds:
Grapefruits and oranges barrelled with apples,
And spices like sharp sweet swords.
Part III.St. Francis of San Francisco
But the surf is white, down the long strange coast
With breasts that shake with sighs,
And the ocean of all oceans
Holds salt from weary eyes.
St. Francis comes to his city at night
And stands in the brilliant electric light
And his swans that prophesy night and day
Would soothe his heart that wastes away :
The giant swans of California
That nest on the Golden Gate
And beat through the clouds serenely
Scheme | a bcdcEEbfxfbghgxidi jjdkklmxmnopphoxqxqbrpr x ssttxuujxvxvbncnxlxLEEx wdwxxlxxlxLEEdyyyxzxz1 2 d 2 pxpd3 3 x4 1 4 p a5 d5 ccttbel |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 110110101 11110010 001011101 11111010 1001101 101010111 110110101 0101110010 01011010 0010110110 1011110010 00101011010 00101001 1111010 011111 00101110 111111 111101010 1011101 11110101 11110110101 1101010 10101 01001001001 0111101110 10111101 10111010101 0011111 01010111110 011011 1011101 10100101 1011010001 001010001 1010111010 11111101 00111001010010 0011001101 00101011010 1111101 1101011010 0101111 1110101 11011101 0110101001 11010101 0011111001 111110 11010101 111111 0011110011 01000101 11000111 01110010 0011101 111110010 1110111 101011111 01111 0011101001 00110101 100100101 0111111 101010111 110110101 011101010 11101111 110101 0010011 10100101110 010010111 0100100010 0011101 01111110 011101 011101 0111111 101010111 110110101 01111111 011111 101101 0101101 111011011 1111101 111101 10111101 111101010 0110101 0110111 0100111 11111101 111101111 1111110010 11011 01101101 11010101 111010101000 100111 101001110 0101111 111011010 1011110111 111111 00101110 111101 1101111011 0100100101 01111101 11111101 01011010 1110101 011010100 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 4,256 |
Words | 760 |
Sentences | 45 |
Stanzas | 9 |
Stanza Lengths | 1, 18, 23, 1, 23, 24, 11, 1, 11 |
Lines Amount | 113 |
Letters per line (avg) | 30 |
Words per line (avg) | 7 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 377 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 84 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 3:48 min read
- 106 Views
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"The Golden Whales Of California" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 26 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/37367/the-golden-whales-of-california>.
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