My dear, my love is building a building around you my love is building a magic, a discrete tower of magic, where I can still conjure your image, bring you back, after I have summoned your little voice with your own delicious words Sir, I can not begin to count the poetry and prose your verse has provoked from me, how much credit I lay humbly at your feet Thou shall not worship false idols, or so they say, but, oh, sweet Edward, you do give me the shakes Over time and tide and death, you have maintained my ardor Love, i slowly gather of thy languorous mouth the thrilling flower.
Yours oh that i could give this book every star, star in the starry sky every gasp whisper and wonder, every dream of a dream unheard of, sentences, the roar of my bleating beating heart every blinking winking of my parabolic eyelashes, my moon wrists skyscraper calves bridged feet and the city of wonder that he has at one time never time discovered my little mouth in open joy knows not the path to the sly slippery of his genius He that questions language knows its secrets.
anyone lived in a pretty how town with up so floating many bells down spring summer autumn winterhe sang his didn t he danced his did.
Women and men both little and small cared for anyone not at allthey sowed their isn t they reaped their samesun moon stars rainchildren guessed but only a fewand down they forgot as up they grewautumn winter spring summer that noone loved himby when by now and tree by leafshe laughed his joy she cried his griefbird by snow and stir by stillanyone s any was all to hersomeones married their everyoneslaughed their cryings and did their dance sleep wake up and then theysaid their nevers they slept their dreamstars rain sun moon and only the snow can begin to explain how children are apt to forget to rememberwith up so floating many bells down one day anyone died i guess and noone stooped to kiss his face busy folk buried them side by sidelittle by little and was by wasall by all and deep by deepandbythey dream their sleepnoone and anyone earth by aprilwish by spirit and if by yes.
Women and men both dong and ding summer autumn winter springreaped their sowing and went their camesun moon stars rain
I love e.
cummings poetry There is nothing like it I can hardly review something so amazing, to be honest there s time for laughing and there s time for crying for hoping for despair for peace for longing a time for growing and a time for dying a night for silence and a day for singingbutthan all as yourthan eyestell me there is a time for timelessness e.
And there s a time to shut up and just appreciate some amazing poetry.
somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond by E E Cummingssomewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyondany experience,your eyes have their silence in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,or which i cannot touch because they are too nearyour slightest look easily will unclose methough i have closed myself as fingers,you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens touching skilfully,mysteriously her first roseor if your wish be to close me, i andmy life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,as when the heart of this flower imaginesthe snow carefully everywhere descending nothing which we are to perceive in this world equalsthe power of your intense fragility whose texturecompels me with the color of its countries,rendering death and forever with each breathing i do not know what it is about you that closesand opens only something in me understandsthe voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses nobody,not even the rain,has such small handsI was so ravished by this poem when i first came across it sometime in highschool, i think that i kept a copy of it tacked to my bedroom wall for a good 10 years thereafter Then, some years went by, the poem from my wall now tucked away at the bottom of a hope chest buried with all my other dreams and romances until one day one lucky day i happened across a snippet of an ee cummings poem in an introduction to a book i was reading this may or may not have been a novel by the great Tad Williams i will have to get back to you on that one though, because i could be wrong anyway, the quote was, listen there s a hell of a good universe next door let s go so i ran to the bookstore, found this book, leafed through it and went home to contemplate why spending this amount of money for a book was ridiculous it didn t take long for me to change my mind i like to splurge and i like to be ravished.
This compilation is one of my favorites and I peruse it often It ll take me a lifetime to digest all of Mr Cummings wonderful poetry.
At The Time Of His Death In , E E Cummings Was, Next To Robert Frost, The Most Widely read Poet In America Combining Thoreau S Controlled Belligerence With The Brash Abandon Of An Uninhibited Bohemian, Cummings, Together With Pound, Eliot, And William Carlos Williams, Helped Bring About The Twentieth Century Revolution In Literary Expression He Is Recognized On The One Hand As The Author Of Some Of The Most Beautiful Lyric Poems Written In The English Language, And On The Other As One Of The Most Inventive American Poets Of His Time In The Worlds Of Richard Kostelanetz, The Major American Poet Of The Middle Twentieth Century of all the collections of e e s worksthis is the finestcomplete, of course, why wouldn t it be as is the sea marvelousfrom god shands which sent her forthto sleep upon the worldand the earth withersthe moon crumblesone by onestars flutter into dustbut the seadoes not changeand she goes forth out of hands andshe returns into handsand is with sleep.
love, the breakingof your soul uponmy lips i used to read this book on the floor of the bookstore in Singing River Mall in Gautier Mississippi cuz i had no money to buy it then one Christmas my friend Andreabought it for me i have not gotten tired of a single poem reading his poetry is like reading it for the first time every time fiercly original startlingly beautiful.
i cant say enough about this man and his talent.