EE Cummings

This poem started a fascination with E.E. Cummings which has continued for many years.  I first came across it at school when an inspirational teacher read it to us and we discussed it at length.  Take note, any politicians out there: a teacher chose to read this based on his knowledge and his judgement about what would engage pupils.  He didn’t need a politician to draw up a national curriculum to tell him what to do!
anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn’t he danced his did.
 
Women and men(both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn’t they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain
 
children guessed(but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more
 
when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone’s any was all to her
 
someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream
 
stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with 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 side
little by little and was by was
all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.
 
Women and men(both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain

E.E. Cummings

eecummings

The poetry of E.E. Cummings is in my hinterland.  What’s in yours?

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One thought on “EE Cummings

  1. Cummings definitely is there in mine, too.

    Also A.R. Ammons, whose poem “Dunes”( and its last line, especially) has been with me since I first read it as a college freshman
    :
    Taking root in windy sand
    is not an easy
    way
    to go about
    finding a place to stay.

    A ditchbank or wood’s-edge
    has firmer ground.

    In a loose world though
    something can be started—
    a root touch water,
    a tip break sand—

    Mounds from that can rise
    on held mounds,
    a gesture of building, keeping,
    a trapping
    into shape.

    Firm ground is not available ground.

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