maggie and milly and molly and may maggie and milly and molly and may went down to the beach(to play one day) and maggie discovered a shell that sang so sweetly she couldn’t remember her troubles,and milly befriended a stranded star whose rays five languid fingers were; and molly was chased by a horrible thing… Continue reading E.E. Cummings
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… Continue reading E.E. Cummings
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 the places nobody knows, And, if you like, The perfect places of Sleep. — E.E. Cummings, from “You Are Tired (I Think),” Etcetera: The… Continue reading E.E. Cummings
in time of all sweet things beyond whatever mind may comprehend, remember seek (forgetting find) and in a mystery to be (when time from time shall set us free) forgetting me, remember me. — E.E. Cummings, “in time of daffodils,” E. E. Cummings: Complete Poems, 1904-1962, Revised, Corrected, and Expanded Edition (Liveright, 1994) a
[sometimes i am alive because with] sometimes i am alive because with me her alert treelike body sleeps which i will feel slowly sharpening becoming distinct with love slowly, who in my shoulder sinks sweetly teeth until we shall attain the Springsmelling intense large togethercoloured instant the moment pleasantly frightful when, her mouth suddenly rising,… Continue reading E.E. Cummings
kiss me a little: the air darkens and is alive – o live with me in the fewness of these colours; — E.E. Cummings, from “XLVIII,” ViVa. (Liveright; 2nd ed. Edition, October 17, 1997) Originally published 1931.
ix nearer: breath of my breath: take not thy tingling limbs from me: make my pain their crazy meal letting thy 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 dream in the glad flesh of my fear: more… Continue reading E.E. Cummings