E. E. Cummings Poetry

I wanted a place to share my love of E. E. Cummings and his poetry. I'll do my best to post a poem a day along with some fun other things!

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nearer:breath of my breath:take not they tingling

nearer:breath of my breath:take not thy tingling
limbs from me:make my pain their crazy meal
letting they tigers of smooth sweetness steal
slowly in dumb blossoms of new mingling:
deeper:blood of my blood:with upwardcringing
swiftness plunge these leopards of white ream
this pith of darkness:carve an evilfringing
flower of madness on gritted lips
and on sprawled eyes squirming with light insane
chisel the killing flame that dizzily grips.

Querying greys between mouthed houses curl

thirstily.  Dead stars stink.  dawn.  Inane,

the poetic carcass of a girl

apologies

1. Sorry for being MIA. Life happened. Hopefully you understand.

2. When I write poems into the post box myself (rather than finding them on the internet and copy/pasting) a line is added whenever I hit the enter key and I’m not techsavvy enough to fix it, so I apologize for them not being the correct line spacing. So… if there is one space between lines, the computer did it and it’s supposed to be single spaced, but if there are two spaces between lines, it is intended to be double-spaced.

3. Sorry if #2 didn’t make sense. Maybe it will after the post on Friday.

Happy end of May and hope you all had a great weekend.

the dirty colours of her kiss have just

the dirty colors of her kiss have just
throttled
             my seeing blood,her heart’s chatter

riveted a weeping skyscraper

in me

         i bite on the eyes’ brittle crust
(only feeling the belly’s merry thrust
boost my huge passion like a business

and the y her legs panting as they press
proffers its omelet of fluffy lust)
at six exactly
                    the alarm tore

two slits in her cheeks.   a brain peered at the dawn,
she got up

                with a gashing yellow yawn
and tottered to a glass bumping things,
she picked wearily something from the floor

her hair was mussed,and she coughed while tying strings

Anonymous asked: in case you've run out of poems to post - scribd. com/doc/48849870/Cummings-E-E-Complete-Poems-1904-1962 :-)

Thank you for being so thoughtful! I actually have the print version of his complete poems, so I’ll be set to post for a while :)

However, to any of you who may be interested, go ahead and check out the link!

This is a sketch Cummings did. It’s one of my favorite pieces of art ever. 

This is a sketch Cummings did. It’s one of my favorite pieces of art ever. 

This one goes out…

That last post goes out to any of you who might be dealing with the stress of finals week,  spring allergies, or just the stresses of every day life. 

… and if it brought you to tears the first time you read it through, I’m glad I was able to post something that made you feel. 

You are tired, (I think)

You are tired,
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.

Come with me, then,
And we’ll leave it far and far away—
(Only you and I, understand!)

You have played,
(I think)
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and—
Just tired.
So am I.

But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,
And I knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart—
Open to me!
For I will show you places Nobody knows,
And, if you like,
The perfect places of Sleep.

Ah, come with me!
I’ll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,
That floats forever and a day;
I’ll sing you the jacinth song
Of the probable stars;
I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,
Until I find the Only Flower,
Which shall keep (I think) your little heart
While the moon comes out of the sea.

- e.e. cummings

Anonymous asked: what does this poem mean???

Which poem? When the questions show-up in my ask box they aren’t linked to any of my posts.

Tumbling-hair

Tumbling-hair
              picker of buttercups
                                   violets
dandelions
And the big bullying daisies
                             through the field wonderful
with eyes a little sorry
Another comes
              also picking flowers

Tell me about yourself…

It’s been a while since I posted one of these and I’m always interested to hear which e.e. cummings poems stand out to different people. If you have a favorite (I know it’s hard to pick just one!), leave it in the “ask” section because I’d really like to see what you’re all thinking. Or if you just want to tell me something about yourself, something good that happened today, or anything else - that’s fine too!

Thanks again for following!