e.e. cummings  

julietofverona 44M/44F
178 posts
12/6/2005 9:50 am

Last Read:
3/21/2006 2:38 pm

e.e. cummings

you said Is
there anything which
is dead or alive more beautiful
than my body,to have in your fingers
(trembling ever so little)?
Looking into
your eyes Nothing,i said,except the
air of spring smelling of never and forever.

....and through the lattice which moved as
if a hand is touched by a
moved as though
fingers touch a girl's
Do you believe in always,the wind
said to the rain
I am too busy with
my flowers to believe,the rain answered

rm_adultmusic 60M

12/6/2005 2:38 pm

Julie...I should have guessed you are an e.e. cummings lover....

one of my favorites

Thy fingers make early flowers of
all things.
thy hair mostly the hours love:
a smoothness which
(though love be a day)
do not fear go amaying.

thy whitest feet crisply are straying.
thy moist eyes are at kisses playing,
whose strangness much
says: singing
(though love be a day)
for which girl art thou flowers bringing?

To be thy lips is a sweet thing
and small.
Death. Thee i call rich beyond wishing
if this thou catch,
else missing.
(though love be a day
and life be nothing, it shall not stop kissing).

julietofverona 44M/44F
67 posts
12/6/2005 3:41 pm

adultmusic -

so lovely, thank you for sharing. i love his use of paranthetical statements and the power of repetition, and every word is written as though it is wrung from his heart. i'm glad to find another that loves his work.

Become a member to create a blog